4
Between the twelfth and seventeenth centuries, Latin Christians became fixated on locating a mythical distant king who they believed was called Prester John. He was said to reside somewhere in the ‘East’ and would aid in the Latin Christian fight against the Muslims of the Holy Land. The name of Presbyter Iohannes, initially described as a Nestorian and ‘king of kings’ of 72 lesser kings, first appeared in Otto of Freising’s De Duabus Civitatibus (1157) in relation to a letter supposedly sent to the Byzantine emperor in 1145.1 Versions of the prester’s legendary letter circulated throughout the medieval Mediterranean and survive in at least 469 manuscripts in 20 languages, truly displaying the cultural and political phenomenon that he became.2 The prester’s association with Ethiopia has long been established in scholarship. Yet, his location in Ethiopia is not the whole history of the African Prester, especially in the myth’s earlier incarnations, with the prester’s prior association with Nubia being largely evaded by historians.3 During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, two parallel myths developed regarding the location of Prester John, the first regarding Nubia and the other regarding Ethiopia, which, whilst overlapping to some degree, largely remained distinct.4 The migration of Prester John from Nubia to Ethiopia is further representative of the primacy of each kingdom at varying times in Latin Christian discourse. This chapter will not relate the history of Prester John in Ethiopia per se but will focus on the conditions which enabled the migration of Prester John from Nubia to Ethiopia. As with many of the later Latin Christian-Ethiopian relations, the myth of Prester John was another with an earlier history associated with Nubia that was only later transferred, despite the overwhelming rejection by Ethiopians themselves, to Ethiopia.
Even though a complete history of Prester John will not be retold here, it is important to situate the presence and significance of the myth before comparative discussion of the Latin Christian and Nubian and Ethiopian perspectives of the period between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries can be fully addressed. Whilst the idea of an African Prester John was not as prominent in Latin Christian discourse as it would become between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries, its earliest incarnations cannot be overlooked as possible motivations behind Latin Christian interest in both Nubia and Ethiopia from the thirteenth century. How integral the African Prester John myth was to Latin Christian engagement with either Nubia or Ethiopia before c. 1400 – the first attempted Latin Christian correspondence with this mythical, but importantly by then increasingly Ethiopian, ruler – remains questionable. Nevertheless, there are many elements of the earlier myth which should not be overlooked, notably the clear changing discourse between the prester’s location in Nubia to Ethiopia when viewed alongside the broader events related in the following chapters.
The Belief in an African Prester John
Initially, Prester John and his kingdom were mostly associated with somewhere in Asia, before Latin Christians migrated their discourse of Prester John into Africa.5 However, it may be said that the mythical figure, at least partly, originated in Africa. For instance, the name ‘John’ (Iohannis) was attributed to the Ethiopian ruler noted by Roger of Howden in the late twelfth century. It had been proposed by Constantin Marinescu as early as 1923 that there was a correlation between the Gəʿəz word ğan (sometimes spelt žan), meaning ‘majesty’, as in the Ethiopian royal greeting ‘your majesty’ (ğanhoy: ጃንሆይ), and the Venetian name Gian (or Zane), or John. He proposed that the Venetians in Egypt misunderstood Ethiopians addressing the majesty of their monarch with the personal name of ‘John’, thus, resulting in the growing rumours of a ruler named Prester John.6 Certainly, no comparable reason for an Asian ‘John’ exists if the name was indeed not just an offhand creation in the first place. Significantly, Roger of Howden’s text said nothing of a prester. No Ethiopian ruler is known to have had any form of the name ‘John’ during this period, whether as a personal, throne, or regal name, suggesting that this was indeed likely a misinterpretation of the Gəʿəz word ğan. The myth behind Prester John had many influences and any recurring news of an African ruler named ‘John’ likely did little to quell Latin Christian interest in an early African Prester John. Unlike in Asia, however, the Latin Christians did not know of a specific individual on which to base their prester characterisation, such as how they came to associate the prester with the khans of the Mongols. Importantly, Latin Christians never documented arriving at his supposed court, such as they had in Asia from the 1240s.7 The African influence on the early development of the myth of Prester John remains notable but was rarely made explicit by contemporaries in favour of the ‘real’ Prester John who resided in Asia. Nevertheless, the development of what may be described as the proto-Prester John of Nubia from the early thirteenth century should be viewed in parallel to the Prester John of Asia. His later relocation to Ethiopia was the product of both origins.
The migration of Prester John from Nubia to Ethiopia was aided by the fact that the rulers of both kingdoms shared the principal traits that the prester was said to possess: being a priest-king and having subordinate ‘kings’ under him. Most importantly, both Nubia and Ethiopia had contemporary or near-contemporary rulers who were said to have had these traits. In the case of priest-kings, Yemreḥanna Krestos, ruler of Ethiopia in the twelfth century, was, for example, according to his fifteenth-century gaḍl, an ordained priest prior to his coronation and was said to celebrate mass during his reign, as well as ruling according to the ‘Apostolic Canons’.8 The Coptic priest Abū al-Makārim, writing in the latter half of the twelfth century, similarly described the Ethiopian (those of the al-Ḥabaša) rulers as priests (kahna, كهنة) more generally.9 In comparison, certain Nubian kings, possibly reflecting a wider adoption of the Byzantine model of rulership in addition to other Byzantine Christian influences since the sixth century, were described as being akin to priest-kings.10 Indeed, Abū al-Makārim also referred to the 13 kings of Nubia (al-Nūba) as priests (kahna).11 This statement was seemingly specifically reporting on the contemporary late twelfth-century reign of the Nubian ourou Moüses Georgios who was said to be one such priest-king.12
Equally, both kingdoms had political systems that could have been (mis)understood as having ‘sub-kings’ to external observers. Dotawo was subdivided into both kinglets and eparchs, with the most powerful being the so-called ‘Lord of the Mountain’ in Arabic sources (الصاحب الجبل, al-ṣāhib al-jabal) – the Songoj (ⲥⲟⳟⲟⳝ) of Nobadia (or Migi) in Old Nubian sources – the eparch who oversaw trade and political relations in Lower Nubia, notably those with Egypt, on behalf of the ourou.13 Nubian rulers do not appear to have had any particular title that would have portrayed an essence of being a ‘king of kings’ in itself, unlike, for example, in Ethiopia, which had nəgusä nägäśt (ንጉሠ፡ነገሥት). Surviving Old Nubian sources merely employ the singular ourou or basileu[s] (ⲟⲩⲣⲟⲩ/ⲃⲁⲥⲓⲗⲉⲩ) in reference to its rulers, both when written by the ourou himself and by those writing to or discussing him. Any embellishment of his power is expanded upon separately in any given text, rather than being universally represented by an ideologically expansive singular title, such as basileús basiléōn (Βασιλεύς βασιλέων) or ourou ourouguna (ⲟⲩⲣⲟⲩ ⲟⲩⲣⲟⲩⲅⲩⲛⲁ) akin to nəgusä nägäśt. It may be possible that the ourou of Dotawo was viewed as the subjugator of the three former states of Nobadia, Makuria, and Alwa, and therefore was literally a ‘king of kings’ by external observers, especially given the fact that, for instance, external Arabic sources continued to describe Nubia in terms of Nobadia, Makuria, and Alwa, rather than a united Dotawo. Nubian rulers, especially in the late twelfth century, are known to have listed these former kingdoms amongst their subordinate lands, too, despite Nubian rulers beginning to consistently project their power as ourou of a united Dotawo more generally.14 Significantly, ourou Moüses Georgios, as well as being a contemporary priest-king, is also known to have projected himself as ‘basileús of the Alwans, Makuritans, Nobadians, the Damalt (?), and the ʾAksumites’ (ⲃⲗ̄ⲥ̄ ⲏⲙⲱⲛ ⲁⲣⲟⲩⲁ⸌ⲇ⸍ ⳤ ⲙⲁⲕⲟⲩⲣ⸌ⲧ⸍ ⳤ ⲛⲟⲃⲁⲇⲓⲟⲛ ⲋ ⲇⲁⲙⲁⲗ⸌ⲧ⸍ ⳤ ⲁⲝⲓⲱⲙⲁ) in a letter to the Coptic patriarch in 1186.15 Current evidence does not allow us to ascertain whether Latin Christians would have been aware of such projections of power with certainty, but rumours would not have had to have jumped too far to view Nubian rulers literally as ‘kings of kings’. In contrast, in addition to Ethiopian rulers being more explicit in their projections of their power in their titles, Ethiopia, particularly following the rise of the Solomonids, had strong regional governors who exchanged their loyal service for land (known in Ethiopia as the gʷəlt), most notably epitomised by the coastal Bäḥr Nǝguś, whose office later increased in power during the reign of Zärʾa Yaʿǝqob (r. 1433–68) and increasingly oversaw Ethiopian exploits in regard to the Red Sea.16 The regional nägäśt were subject to the nəgusä nägäśt.
Prester John, both as a priest-king and as a ‘king of kings’, was therefore readily able to be attributed to either kingdom as far as his supposed traits were concerned. Yet, Nubia’s role in the myth’s development remains often overshadowed. Not only was Prester John first associated with Nubia, but Nubia also found itself being the home of a proto-Prester John myth concerning a powerful unnamed ruler who would aid in the Christian fight from the Fifth Crusade (1217–21). This alternative figure was not referred to as Prester John directly, though the figure did develop a parallel narrative of a mythical ruler which would later serve to cement Nubia’s role in the prester’s early African identification. This first appearance of a powerful unnamed Nubian king who appeared akin to a proto-Prester John was said to desire to rise up, destroy Mecca, and scatter the bones of the Prophet Muḥammad.17 A century later, Nubia was explicitly being recorded as the home of Prester John. Any understanding of the role of Prester John in Latin Christian-Ethiopian relations cannot dismiss his earlier importance attributed to Nubia. The later Latin Christian myth of an Ethiopian Prester John merely developed on its Nubian foundations. After all, it was not coincidental that Ethiopia did not initially feature in the legend of the proto-prester following his first indirect associations with Africa during the Fifth Crusade given the overwhelming absence of Ethiopia in Latin Christian discourse in comparison to Nubia prior to the mid-fourteenth century.
The Nubian (Proto-)Prester John
The rumours of a powerful Nubian king within Latin Christian discourse first circulated during the Fifth Crusade and noted by Oliver of Paderborn, a German preacher who participated in the crusade, in his Historia Damiatini (wr. c.1220–2). According to Oliver, a book written in Arabic by a man said to be neither a Christian, Muslim, nor Jew began to circulate amongst the Fifth Crusaders during their siege of Damietta, which foretold that a Christian Nubian king (regem Christianorum Nubianorum) would rise up and destroy Mecca and scatter the bones of the Prophet Muḥammad before further relating that if Damietta was captured and the Nubian king appeared, Christianity would defeat the forces of Islam.18 A contemporary prophecy in the Book of Clement added weight to this as it stated that when Easter fell on 3 April, the king of the East and king of the West would meet in Jerusalem – coincidently this would happen in 1222 as the rumours of the Nubian king were circulating.19 Bernard Hamilton has suggested that the importance placed on this prophecy can ultimately be understood as the primary cause for the defeat of the Crusaders as, due to their keen desire to complete the prophecy, they ignored the Nile floods during their expedition towards Cairo to disastrous effect.20 Who exactly began the rumours of the Nubian king is unknown, though there is no evidence that Nubians had any role in disseminating them.21 In any case, the rumours only supported what the Latin Christians had been learning about Nubia elsewhere. The Damietta prophecy can readily be viewed as an early Nubian manifestation of the myth of Prester John, either in full in all but name or as a proto-Prester John. Following the Fifth Crusade, the Damietta prophecy remained an integral discourse regarding Nubia, often being repeated and reiterated by later writers, particularly throughout the fourteenth century.22
An important element of Prester John’s legend was his setting within an apocalyptic background, as was also the case during the Fifth Crusade. Mordechai Lewy has argued that both Nubian and Ethiopian kings, without distinction, contributed to apocalyptic narratives in Latin Christendom, whilst Lutz Greisiger has identified an earlier specifically Nubian king motif in Eastern apocalypses, particularly in association with the power of Kūš (ܟܘܫ).23 Indeed, the apocalyptic discourse of Prester John had important parallels in the role assigned to the Ethiopian nǝguś during the fourteenth century, such as in the Kəbrä nägäśt, which likely did little to inhibit any later Latin Christian association of the prester with Ethiopia.24 Moreover, it was not just the Latin Christians who believed in a powerful Eastern ruler. For instance, the rumours and understandings of an Eastern ruler by Eastern Christians, especially by the Syrian Jacobite Christians, centred on Nubia, or, more precisely, Kūš. In addition to the fact that Nubia’s biblical narrative was assured in Latin Christian discourse, the belief that Kūš would stretch out its hand to God (Psalm 68:31) was a universal Eastern Christian passage. Significantly, it is notable that the text of the Syriac Pešīṭtā Bible regarding Psalm 68:31 also took on an apocalyptic meaning, more so than it did in either its Latin or Greek manifestations. As far as the Syrian Jacobite Christians were concerned, whilst the line as Kūš tašlem ‘īdā l-ʿalâhā (ܘܟܘܫ ܬܫܠܡ ܐܝܕܐ ܠܐܠܗܐ) can be translated the same as it is in Latin, it could also be understood more forcefully as ‘Kūš will yield the power of God’.25 Nubia, or Kush, had maintained a position of power in the eyes of Eastern Christians for centuries. A belief in Nubia as a world power, as suggested by Jürgen Tubach, can be traced back to the likes of Mānī’s Kephalaia (c. 400 CE), which detailed the four world powers as Rome, Persia, Kush, and China.26 Whether this Kush was attributed to Meroë or ʾAksum may have switched over time; certainly, the place of Kush as one of the world powers was known to be replaced by ʾAksum by some in later centuries, as depicted in the early eighth-century fresco at Quseir Amra in Jordan.27 Nevertheless, the primary association of Kush and Nubia, as detailed in Chapter 1, only served to associate such narratives with Nubia, even if, occasionally, Nubia was overshadowed by Ethiopia.
The seventh-century Apocalypse of Pseudo-Methodius, originally composed in Syriac and long known in Latin Europe through Latin and Greek translations, further suggests that an understanding of a Nubian Prester John may have been the result of Syriac exegesis. Throughout the text of Pseudo-Methodius in both Latin (Aethiopia) and Greek (Αἰθιόπια), along with its Syriac versions (ܟܘܫ: Kūš), ‘Ethiopia’ was readily applied to Nubia. Chapter 9 of the Apocalypse contains a passage which relies heavily on the notion of ‘Ethiopia’ stretching out its hand to God as proclaimed in Psalm 68:31. The text explicitly states that certain members of the clergy are mistaken in associating the king of Kūš/Aethiopia with the end of times. Instead, the text narrates that the Psalm was actually referring to the king of the Byzantines as a descendant of the king of Kush/Ethiopia.28 Earlier in the chapter, the text claims that the kings of Byzantium were the descendants of Byzas, who had married Chuseth (Χουσὴθ/ܟܘܫܬ (Kūšat)), daughter of Phol, king of ‘Ethiopia’, after gaining dominion over Kush – hence Chuseth’s name – and whose union ultimately produced the dynasties of both Byzantium and Rome.29 Whilst notions of an ‘Ethiopian’ lineage in Latin and Greek dynasties do not seemingly influence Latin Christian attempts at relations with Nubia, the beliefs of other clergy, as stated by the text, are most of note here if this belief remained active in some circles as the text continued to circulate. Most importantly for its potential influence on the Prester John myth in Latin Christendom, at least 96 of the 196 manuscripts of six Latin recensions, either in part or in full, as identified by Marc Laureys and Daniel Verhelst, are dated between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries, highlighting the contemporary phenomenon that the Apocalypse was.30 Even if the Syriac discourse of a king from Kush may not have been as strong as it once was, such as during the original composition of the Apocalypse when such rumours concerned its creator, the contemporary manuscript copies may have ignited Latin Christian interest in such a Nubian ruler.
Moreover, the notion of a distant Christian ally was also circulating in translations of other Eastern texts, such as the late thirteenth-century Latin translation of the Syriac Legend of Baḥīrā.31 Coupled with the Eastern Christian textual memory of the eighth-century Nubian ourou Kyriakus who sent an army into Egypt following the persecution of Copts, the legendary status of Prester John appears to have been predicated upon adaptations of these earlier, notably Syriac, discourses regarding Nubian rulers.32 Significantly, as Barbara Roggema has highlighted, the earliest known Latin Legend of Baḥīrā does appear to have been translated from a Syriac text, thus emphasising the role of direct informants who likely associated Nubia with apocalyptic narratives.33 Similarly, the continual circulation of the Eastern legend of the Nubian ourou Kyriakus should be especially noted for the fact that he was said to rule 13 kingdoms and, furthermore, was known as ‘the great king’ (al-malik al-ʿazīm: الماك العظيم) who ruled to the southern extremities of the earth and was unchallenged by any other ruler whilst in their territory, whilst also being reiterated as the fourth of the great kings of the world.34 Dissemination of these Eastern Christian narratives amongst the Latin Christians of the Holy Land would have lent itself to further supporting the apocalyptic narrative that underpinned Prester John and would aid to explain the early murmurings of his location in Nubia.
Despite the dissemination of the Damietta prophecy, Nubia was not directly linked to Prester John for a century. Although a copy of the original text is unknown, it would appear that the first attribution of Nubia to Prester John was by Giovanni da Carignano, who described the land of the early fourteenth-century ‘Ethiopian’ embassy as being ruled by Prester John, which, for reason of its reference to ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon noted in the final chapter, should be dated to between 1314 and the date of Carignano’s death in 1329–30.35 The embassy’s retrospective Ethiopian association will be discussed later and should not detract from the original Nubian identity of the embassy, and by extension its reference to Prester John, in the text here. If this was the case and, more importantly, was determined by the Nubian delegation themselves as the text relates, it also provides the only possible evidence that Nubians were aware of their association with the prester. What the Nubians thought of this, however, is not known. Much like the case of an Ethiopian embassy to Portugal in 1509 detailed later in this chapter, it may be the case that the Nubians used their association with the Prester John myth to attempt to achieve greater success in the outcome of their embassy. In addition to Carignano’s text, the Mirabilia (wr. c. 1330) of Jordanus Catalani, a Catalan Dominican missionary, described Prester John as the ruler of the land of Ethiopia – a land which is later described as exceedingly great (in excessu est magnum) and with a Christian population of at least three times that of Latin Europe.36 Most of the text is fanciful, aligning with the Wonders of the East genre in which ‘Ethiopia’ was the home of dragons, giant flying birds, unicorns, sweating cats whose scent was collected, large venomous serpents, and gryphons.37 Two specific descriptions, however, are suggestive of a Nubian identification despite the text most commonly being associated as evidence of an Ethiopian Prester John in scholarship.38 The first is a reference to three adjoining mountains in this ‘Ethiopia’, most likely a confused understanding of the two mountains of the Bāb al-Nūba (the ‘Gate of Nubia’) depicted on medieval maps, with the second being a reference to an annual tribute from the Egyptian sultan to this Prester John, seemingly being a manipulated or confused understanding of the Baqṭ exchange between Nubia and Egypt.39 By his own admission, Jordanus Catalini had not visited Ethiopia, but he had been informed by so-called ‘trustworthy people’, including having apparently seen and known many people from the land.40 The veracity of this statement should be questioned as such claims were a common literary device designed to support an author’s legitimacy, yet the specific information provided by Jordanus, despite its relative scarcity, cannot discount some use of regional, if not Nubian, informants whose information may have been distorted. Certainly, Jordanus’ account of Indian toponyms attests to intimate knowledge gained directly from Indians in comparison, for instance.41
The first surviving direct mention of Prester John as a Nubian appeared in the work of Jacopo of Verona (fl. 1335), which labelled the king of Nubia as Prester John, whilst also attributing him powers otherwise associated with Ethiopians, such as his alleged control over the Nile.42 Jacopo’s separation between Nubians and Ethiopians (Jabes; an understanding of Ḥabaš[a]) does suggest that he intentionally attributed his Prester John to Nubia whether he intended to conflate him with the Ethiopian ruler’s supposed power over the Nile or not. Most notably, these texts predate any surviving notice locating Prester John in Ethiopia proper, which only serves to highlight the initial primacy of Nubia over Ethiopia as the preeminent powerful kingdom in north-east Africa in Latin Christian discourse. By the mid-fourteenth century, however, Ethiopia was beginning to replace Nubia in Latin Christian discourse, thus explaining the somewhat limited direct references to a Nubian Prester John during the rise of his Ethiopian counterpart. That said, a Nubian Prester John did not disappear immediately. For example, a Prester John of Nubye was later recalled by Jean of Bethencourt, a French explorer who wrote his l’Histoire de la Conquête des Canaries in the early fifteenth century following his conquest of the Canaries in 1402, suggesting that notions of the Nubian Prester John did not disappear immediately.43 Moreover, the influence of the Nubian Prester John in late-fourteenth-century Latin Christian discourse was still prominent. According to John of Hildesheim (d. 1375), for instance, the Templars acquired the diadem of the Wise Man Melchior, king of Nubia and in whose land now resided Prester John, and had brought it to Acre around the year 1200.44 Not coincidently, this identification of Melchior as a Nubian was written during the increased representation of the black Magi in Latin Christian art.45 No evidence, either material or other textual references, is known to support John of Hildesheim’s statement regarding the diadem, however. Nevertheless, whilst the date of 1200 would appear to be early for a relic associated with a Nubian Prester John to be brought to Acre in light of comparable evidence, it is worth combining this event with the hypothesis of David Jacoby, who has posited that relics were possibly used to rank churches along the pilgrimage route within Acre.46 If there is any truth to this story, or even to the strength of its influence to encourage John of Hildesheim to narrate such an event, it would suggest a physical, as well as an ideological, importance to the Nubian Prester John, or at least the connected Melchior, to the Latin Christians. The Nubian Prester John was, in this instance, being incorporated into a broader narrative which could, importantly, provide supposed tangible evidence. Notably, a comparable material or ideological importance was not witnessed regarding the Ethiopian Prester John until the fifteenth century.
It is unknown why the Latin Christian discourse regarding a Nubian Prester John took so long to appear following the dissemination of the much earlier Damietta prophecy. This absence in the sources, however, is also apparent in the discussion of Nubia more generally until the late thirteenth century and may have hinged on the success of returning news from missionaries who had increasingly been encouraged to connect with Nubia since the 1240s. It is also notable that little information regarding contemporary Nubian affairs appears to have circulated in the texts of other possible informants, such as by Muslim writers, until the 1270s which further likely inhibited the knowledge of the Latin Christians which they could have projected the Prester John discourse on to. Whatever the reason for the slow development of the discourse of the Nubian Prester John proper, Nubia’s importance in the foundations of the myth that would become most associated with Ethiopia, both directly and contextually, should not be ignored.
Merging the African Prester Johns and Relocating to Ethiopia
Prester John’s relocation to Ethiopia coincided with the reign of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon and the significance that he had on Latin Christian perceptions of north-east African power, which we will relate in the following chapters, following the expansion of Ethiopia from all sides against Muslim and non-Christian neighbours.47 The vagueness of some of the prester’s supposed traits aided his metamorphosis. In addition to the traits mentioned above, the shift between Nubia and Ethiopia in the Prester John narrative may also be explained as a development of the Fifth Crusade rumours of the Eastern King David which circulated in addition to the Damietta myth of the Nubian king.48 No Nubian or Ethiopian ruler named David is known to have ruled during the period of the Fifth Crusade. However, the relocation of the prester to Ethiopia noticeably coincided with the rise of the Solomonic dynasty after 1270, whose rulers claimed descent from King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba and whose rulers, more importantly, were commonly given the name David in some capacity.49 Whether coincidental or not, Solomonic Ethiopia could equally serve as the location for both King David and as the kingdom powerful enough to conflate with the Damietta myth by the time of the prester’s associations with Ethiopia in the fourteenth century. In contrast, Nubia’s most contemporary ourou David I, of whom little is known, ruled before c. 1155, many decades prior to the Fifth Crusade. The later reign of ourou David II (r. 1268–76) was characterised by subjugation, epitomised by his captivity in Cairo. Did, however, the name ‘David’ still hold power in the eyes of the Latin Christians? It would explain why Sultan Qalāwūn’s treaty with King Alfonso III of Aragon in 1290 made special mention of the fact that the Mamlūks ruled over the territory of David of Nubia (Dāwūd of al-Nūbah) following his capture in 1275/6, despite no other rulers being addressed by name in relation to other conquered lands.50 The specific naming of the ourou would appear intentional and significant as if it held some importance to the Latin Christian audience above the others. Any Nubian or Ethiopian link to the Fifth Crusade King David may be coincidental, but Solomonic Ethiopia’s ruling Davids should not be ignored as a possible contributing factor in influencing where Prester John could be found in Africa, whether that was to direct the changing discourse towards Ethiopia or to reinforce it once he was believed to have been located there.
Another likely key influence behind the prester’s relocation can be found in Islamic discourse. In comparison to the Nubian identification of ‘Ethiopia’/’Kush’ in Christian discourse, Islamic discourse offered narratives of an Ethiopian power that could readily rival that of Nubia. Principally, an Ḥadith known as Dhūl-Suwayqatayn recounted that the ‘one with bow-legs’ from Ethiopia (al-Ḥabaša: الحبشة) would destroy the Ka’ba in Mecca towards the end of time, building upon a briefer extract from the Qur’an (Al-Fīl 105). These references are based on the actions of ʾAbrəha, the sixth-century ʾAksumite viceroy of Yemen, who was said to have marched upon Mecca in the Year of the Elephant in c. 570 CE.51 ʾAbrəha threatened to destroy the Ka’ba in response to the vandalism of the newly built cathedral of Sana’a.52 Whilst not actually a king, the role of ʾAbrəha in Islam can readily be seen as a potential, albeit confused, influence in the narrative of the Nubian king’s power during the Fifth Crusade. It is no coincidence that the rumours regarding the Nubian king during the Fifth Crusade similarly contained the apocalyptic notion that he would destroy Mecca, notably reflecting a contemporary Dhūl-Suwayqatayn. Importantly for the Islamic narrative’s dissemination within Latin Christendom outside of the Holy Land, the Qur’an had been translated into Latin in the 1140s by Robert of Ketton. Problematically for aiding any further reconstruction of the dissemination of such narratives, few accompanying translations of Ḥadiths survive and none appear to refer to Dhūl-Suwayqatayn. For instance, the Ḥadiths translated in the Toledan Collection which contains Ketton’s Qur’an do not feature any related to ʾAbrəha. Without wider circulated knowledge it would have been unlikely that Latin Christians would have associated the Latin translation of Sura 105 naming an hominum elephantis to a powerful African in isolation, let alone attribute an Ethiopian identification to the growing myth of Prester John.53 Nevertheless, it cannot be dismissed that such understandings of this Ḥadith had become known elsewhere via Muslims, former Muslim converts, or Eastern Christians, which would have further provided a source for a narrative concerning a comparable powerful Ethiopian ruler to accompany other contemporary discourses as the Nubian Prester John remained elusive.
Once news of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon’s expansion of Solomonic Ethiopian territory filtered through to Latin Christians, Ethiopia became a ready replacement for the home of Prester John. The first insinuation of an Ethiopian identification of Prester John is found in the itinerary of Symon Semeonis in 1323, though this is far from explicit either. Semeonis noted that Prester John resided up the Nile in Upper India.54 Problematically, the single surviving manuscript creates challenges for interpretation, but it is notable that he was not explicitly associated with other passages concerning Nubia (Danubia) in the text. With Prester John being locatable in relation to the Nile, it would appear that this ‘India’ may well have been, in fact, Ethiopia. In any case, Prester John cannot be said to have been directly only attributed to Ethiopia, without any additional primary accompanying listing of Nubia, until the 1360s. An Ethiopian Prester John, who also is described as a king, appears in Johannes de Marignolli’s Relatio of his travels (c. 1360s), in which he explicitly links the prester to the land of Abasty.55 Ethiopia’s early absence in the Prester John discourse can readily be attributed to its lack of stature in Latin Christian discourse more broadly, whether as a result of a lack of knowledge or the continued preference for Nubia. Ethiopia only rose to prominence in the Prester John myth as Nubia appeared to no longer offer itself as a suitable candidate for being the prester’s land following further Mamlūk aggression. Notably, competition between the African Prester Johns during the fourteenth century only appeared following the arrival of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon to the Ethiopian throne in 1314 and his period of expansion, which made the nǝguś internationally renowned, particularly in Latin Europe. The significance of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon’s reign in Prester John discourse aids to explain why Marco Polo did not describe an Ethiopian Prester John whilst relating his travels to Rustichello da Pisa in 1298, despite dedicating a sizeable portion of his narrative to the power of the contemporary Ethiopian ruler of a land he called Abasce. Moreover, in Polo’s text, Nubia is insignificant, commonly appearing only once in passing, despite the continuing primacy of Nubia in the discourses of his contemporary writers. Instead, Polo favours the power of Abasce.56 Yet, narration of the great power of the Ethiopian ruler did not connect him to Prester John, who Polo continually connected to the Mongols throughout his work. Indeed, later translations of his travels sought to actively address this discrepancy and inserted Nubian and Ethiopian associations with the prester instead, as can be witnessed in a Catalan copy, for example.57
The significance of the process of the relocation of Prester John from Nubia to Ethiopia on contemporary maps and portolans has often eluded much explicit discussion in scholarship. Instead, his location in both Nubia and Ethiopia has primarily been treated as the product of the same discourse of Prester John in Africa and the discrepancy is largely blamed on the confusion of individual cartographers.58 However, when viewed against the backdrop of two distinct intellectual discourses within Latin Europe, the pictorial presentation of Prester John residing in, at first, Nubia and then later Ethiopia should not be viewed as an insignificant confusion. It has long been claimed that Giovanni da Carignano’s map of c. 1314–29, often wrongly dated to 1306, presented Prester John in Ethiopia.59 However, from the surviving images of the now destroyed manuscript, which was bombed during World War Two, no evidence can be gleaned for any association between Prester John and the map’s Terra Abaise. Additionally, no validity to this stated fact can be supported by de la Flamma’s copying of Carignano’s now lost separate Ystoria Ethyopie, which suggests that this would not have been the case on his map, especially as, as argued in the final chapter of this book, this text should be associated with Nubia, not Ethiopia.60 Another map to be attributed with an Ethiopian Prester John is the Angelino Dulcert map of c. 1339, but this, despite the direct link made in scholarship, does not even depict Ethiopia and solely clearly presents Nubia despite the reference to ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon (called Senap on the map). Prester John is described as the ruler of Nubia and Ethiopia, but his singular location in Ethiopia is not explicit; if anything, even though news of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon was gaining traction in Latin Europe, Nubia was not to be easily replaced as the kingdom of primary importance as the location of the Prester.61 Towards the end of the century, a shift can be witnessed in Latin European cartography in line with textual descriptions. For example, Prester John is not only identified as Ethiopian on the 1375 Catalan Atlas but also explicitly described as not being Nubian. A legend on the map states that the ‘[Muslim] king of Nubia’ was constantly at war with the Christians of Nubia, who, in turn, were subject to the emperor of Ethiopia and of the lands of Prester John.62 However, the influence of the Nubian Prester John on Latin Christian cartographical discourse was not replaced immediately. For instance, the Borgia world map (c. 1430) labels Nubia as being the land of Prester John, whilst further relating how the kingdom stretched from the Straits of Gibraltar to the River of Gold in West Africa.63 In contrast, Prester John – the king of Abbassia – played a central role in Fra Mauro’s world map (c. 1450) which relied on separate information gained from Ethiopian informants to overstate Ethiopia’s, and the prester’s, power within the wider African continent. Whilst Nubia does still feature on the map, it is of overwhelming insignificance in relation to Ethiopia.64 It is not the concern here to further relay the presence of Prester John in Ethiopia on subsequent maps, but it should be stated that cartographical discourse similarly aligned with textual discourse which at first placed emphasis on Nubia and only later shifted focus to include Ethiopia, albeit at a slightly slower pace.
Cementing the Prester’s Ethiopian Identification
It was not just news of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon’s expeditions of expansion that helped to cement Prester John’s Ethiopian identity either. Ethiopia’s self-identification as the ‘Ethiopia’ of scripture in the fourteenth century effectively adopted the identification of Prester John, too, at least in the eyes of the Latin Christians. For example, the fourteenth century witnessed a revival of apocalyptic literature in Ethiopia which attested to the meeting of the Ethiopian and Roman rulers. The Kəbrä nägäśt, above all, particularly attended to the revelations of the meeting of a Roman and Ethiopian ruler.65 Similarly, other texts further made reference to this, such as the Ethiopic version of Pseudo-Shenoute (fl. c. 1330), which also ends with passages involving the apocalyptic meeting of the Ethiopian and Roman rulers.66 Specifically regarding Ethiopia’s growing role in Latin Christian discourse, the text narrated the Ethiopian ruler as having received gifts from the Roman ruler following Ethiopia’s threats to Mecca and its ruler’s desire to control Jerusalem.67 The Ethiopian ruler in these narratives could readily be perceived as being akin to what Prester John was hoped to be, though there is no direct evidence that this particular narrative was known by any contemporary Latin Christians. More importantly, the hoped-for meeting of Prester John with rulers in Latin Europe was the ultimate desire, and Ethiopian narratives only served to fuel what Latin Christians desired. Whilst Ethiopia did not link itself to Prester John during this early period, as Ethiopians increasingly explicitly described themselves as ‘Ethiopians’ to Latin Christians throughout the fourteenth century, it was all Latin Christians needed to identify Ethiopia as the home of the prester.
Almost no Ethiopian sources engage with the name of Prester John and Ethiopian rulers adamantly rejected it. This was the case when four Ethiopian monks, who were sent on behalf of Zärʾa Yaʿǝqob to the Council of Florence in 1441, outright dismissed the idea that their ruler was called Prester John, for example.68 There is one notable exception to the Ethiopian dismissal of the narrative, but there may have been a particular motive for it. Ethiopia’s ambassador to Portugal in the early sixteenth century, Mateus, did identify himself as the ambassador of Brest Jūān (جوان برست) in the opening of four surviving letters to the Portuguese, notably to Dom Manuel, written in Arabic, following his stay in Lisbon and his return to Ethiopia. It is unclear whether this identification was Mateus’ initiative, not least because of the use of the non-Arabic anbašadūr (انبشدور) to imitate the Portuguese embaixador, ‘ambassador’, which would suggest that addressing the mythical figure in a way that the Portuguese would best understand was of particular concern, or whether he had been under orders from ətege ʾƎleni, who had originally sent him in 1509 and directed Dom Manuel to listen to Mateus as if his words were those directly of the nǝguś, to adopt this identification from the beginning.69 Significantly, the choice of this identity was instead of Mateus identifying himself as the ambassador of ʾItyoṗya – Prester John and Ethiopia were synonymous. In the margin of one letter, Mateus explicitly emphasises that Prester John was the malik al-Ḥabaša.70 Ethiopian rulers were certainly aware of their association with Prester John, but how often or to what extent they potentially used this to their advantage on occasion is unknown, particularly in order to achieve their objectives during the diplomatic relations which followed 1402. The evidence is unclear, and direct evidence only survives in these Arabic letters of Mateus, but Ethiopia’s association with Prester John likely only increased the ability of Ethiopian rulers to achieve their objectives, whether the myth of the prester was engaged explicitly or tacitly by others if the occasion called for it. Nothing else can be said as known other Ethiopian evidence either does not mention the myth or dismisses any Ethiopian association with the prester.
Significantly, the 1402 embassy arrived within the context of four decades of the shifting of Latin Christian discourse which began identifying Prester John as explicitly Ethiopian from the 1360s. Knowledge of Ethiopia’s supposedly mythical control over the Nile floods also appeared to reach Latin Europe around this time. The myth had circulated in Arabic texts since the late eleventh century but only became recorded in a Latin Christian text in 1335, though initially associated with Nubia. Nevertheless, the myth increasingly became associated with Ethiopia similarly from the 1360s.71 Importantly, this belief in the power of the Ethiopian ruler to control the Nile went on to become a key element in Latin Christian discourse, particularly following the arrival of the 1402 embassy.72 Elsewhere, the forged letter supposedly sent from Wǝdǝm Räʿad (r. 1299–1314) to Charles IV, written sometime after 1355 when Charles IV succeeded to become Holy Roman Emperor, to legitimise an Ethiopian origin for the 1300–c. after 1314 embassy to Castile and Avignon further highlights the growing importance of Ethiopia in Latin Christian discourse, especially as the embassy had been claimed in the letter to have been sent from Prester John.73 The letter’s attempt to forefront Ethiopia in Latin Christian discourse is significant, especially in the form of a forgery, which, in the words of Giles Constable, would have been created by someone who would have ‘attune[d] their deceits so closely to the desires and standards of their age’.74 The creation of such a forgery would suggest a wider consciousness amongst its potential audience and shows an intimate awareness by its creator of the need to place Wǝdǝm Räʿad as the ruler of Ethiopia for the time of the embassy to legitimise the legacy of Prester John’s new Ethiopian identity. This replacement of Nubia by Ethiopia in the Prester John narrative can further be witnessed in the anonymous Libro del conoscimiento (wr. c. 1378–1402). As noted by Nancy Marino, the three cross flag attributed to Nubia on Dulcert’s 1339 map was also assigned to the land of Prester John in the Libro, though any connections between the texts are commonly rejected irrespective of the Libro also sharing many other traits with Dulcert’s map.75 On Dulcert’s map, Prester John was clearly located in Nubia. However, Prester John ruled over both Nubia and Ethiopia in the Libro, but the fact that the text projects the power of Ethiopia much more than it does for Nubia further evidences the increasing weight being placed on Prester John’s Ethiopian profile. The knowledge of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon in the Libro is clear, as the Ethiopian ruler is named Abdeselib, an understanding of the Arabic translation (ʿAbd aṣ-Ṣalīb) of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon’s throne name, Gäbrä Mäsqäl – ‘servant of the cross’ – and yet again emphasises the importance that news of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon’s activities had on shaping Latin Christian discourse concerning the identity of Prester John.76
The shift towards an Ethiopian Prester John also took on a new development. In 1400, Henry IV of England (r. 1399–1413) wrote directly to the ‘magnificent and powerful prince, king of Ethiopia, or Prester John, our friend in beloved Christ’ (magnifico et potenti Principi, Regi Abassice, sive Presbytero Johanni, amico nostro in Christo dilecto), which is the first known attempted correspondence between a Latin Christian ruler and Ethiopia.77 There is no evidence that this letter ever reached Ethiopia or if it was even a legitimate attempt at communication. For instance, it may simply have been an attempt to project Henry as a strong character on the international stage following his succession to the English crown as a result of usurping Richard II in the previous year.78 Henry’s letter is further somewhat surprising given that English sources detailing contemporary events in Ethiopia are rare and that, apart from this one scenario, English rulers were not known for their attempts to contact Prester John, either before or indeed in the following decades. In any case, the arrival of the 1402 Ethiopian embassy to Venice and subsequent gift exchanges emphasised that the Ethiopian ruler was reachable, whilst, in comparison, Nubia’s Prester John remained elusive.79 Further letters to the Ethiopian Prester John followed in 1406 and 1407 by Charles VI of France and Konrad of Jungingen, Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights, respectively, as diplomatic relations began to be sought following the 1402 embassy.80 Once Ethiopian embassies arrived in Latin Europe from 1402, the Latin Christians believed that they had finally reengaged with the prester – at least in the eyes of the Latin Christian commentators who attributed the early fourteenth-century embassy to Ethiopia. The prester remained located in Ethiopia until intensive interactions with the Portuguese led to the dwindling of the myth into obscurity in the seventeenth century.81 Despite Ethiopia’s overwhelming rejection of its association with Prester John, its relations with Latin Europe during the fifteenth century were governed by Ethiopia’s ability to navigate its image within Latin Christendom for its own ends, which was arguably epitomised by the exploits of Ethiopia’s ambassador Mateus from 1509.
The history of Africa’s Prester John includes much more than merely its Ethiopian incarnation. Nubia’s role in the development of the African Prester John, especially as the source of the later Ethiopian Prester, should no longer remain elusive in future discussions. Instead, significantly, the competition between Nubia and Ethiopia in fourteenth-century Latin Christian discourse led to competing African Prester Johns. Prester John was said to reside in Nubia when Nubia was the prime focus of the Latin Christians in their crusading endeavours. As Nubia’s perceived power declined and it increased in obscurity, not only did Ethiopia replace Nubia in Latin Christian discourse more generally, but this was also reflected in the location of Prester John. Therefore, the history of the Ethiopian Prester John, which has gained the most attention in scholarship, was entwined with his Nubian predecessor like many other elements narrated in this book. Whilst both kingdoms were important in the development of Prester John in Africa, there was a distinct difference between the earlier Nubian and later Ethiopian narratives. The Nubian Prester John, despite its earlier proto-Prester John manifestation since the Fifth Crusade, grew out of the arrival of the early fourteenth-century (1300–c. after 1314) Nubian embassy, whereas the Ethiopian Prester John, which developed following news of ʿÄmdä Ṣǝyon’s military exploits, served as the motivation to facilitate future embassies with Ethiopia. Noticeably, the two African Prester Johns served different political and symbolic roles. The Nubian Prester John remained mythical, whereas the Ethiopian Prester John became reachable. What Nubians made of their association with the Prester John myth is unknown, whilst Ethiopians do mostly appear to have actively rejected the identification. Whatever the ideological and textual influences behind Prester John’s relocation to Ethiopia by the Latin Christians, this development certainly post-dated that of his initial proto- and direct identification with Nubia.
Notes
1. Otto of Freising, ‘De Duabus Civitatibus’, Book VII Ch. 33, pp. 363–7 (text); Otto of Freising, The Two Cities, trans. Mierow et al., pp. 443–4 (trans.).
2. Brewer, Prester John, pp. 316–9.
3. R. Lefevre, ‘Riflessi etiopici nella cultura europea del medioevo e del rinascimento – parte seconda’, Annali Lateranensi, 9 (1945), pp. 331–444; J. Richard, ‘Les premiers missionaires latins en Éthiopie (XIIe–XIVe siècles)’, in Atti del convegno internazionale di studi etiopici, Roma 2–4 Aprille 1959 (Rome, 1960), pp. 323–9; Taddesse Tamrat, Church and State, pp. 250–67; M. Abir, Ethiopia and the Red Sea: The Rise and Decline of the Solomonic Dynasty and Muslim-European Rivalry in the Region (London, 1980); C. F. Beckingham, ‘Ethiopia and Europe 1200–1650’, in The European Outthrust and Encounter: The First Phase c.1400–c.1700: Essays in Tribute to David Beers Quinn on his 85th Birthday, eds. C. H. Clough and P. E. H. Hair (Liverpool, 1994), pp. 77–96; W. Baum, Äithiopien und der Westen im Mittelalter: Die Selbstbehauptung der christlichen Kultur am oberen Nil zwischen dem islamischen Orient und dem europäischen Kolonialismus (Klagenfurt, 2001); M. Salvadore, ‘The Ethiopian Age of Exploration: Prester John’s Discovery of Europe, 1306–1458’, JWH, 21 (2010), pp. 593–627; B. Weber, ‘Vrais et faux Éthiopiens au XVe siècle en Occident? Du bon usage des connexions’, Annales d’Éthiopie, 27 (2012), pp. 107–26; A. Kurt, ‘The Search for Prester John, A Projected Crusade and the Eroding Prestige of Ethiopian Kings, c.1200–c.1540’, JMH, 39.3 (2013), pp. 1–24; Salvadore, African Prester John; A. Knobler, Mythology and Diplomacy in the Age of Exploration (Leiden, 2017), pp. 30–56; V. Krebs, ‘Fancy Names and Fake News. Notes on the Conflation of Solomonic Ethiopian Rulership with the Myth of Prester John in the Late Medieval Latin Christian Diplomatic Correspondence’, Orbis Aethiopicus, 17 (2021), pp. 89–124.
4. For an opposing view, see, for example, M. Lewy, Der Apokalyptische Abessinier und die Kreuzzüge: Wandel eines frühislamischen Motivs in der Literatur und Kartografie des Mittelalters (Berlin, 2018). Lewy does not see a particular distinction between Nubia and Ethiopia in Latin Christian discourse.
5. On the myth, see most recently Brewer, Prester John; Knobler, Mythology. On the movement of Prester John, see B. Hamilton, ‘Continental Drift: Prester John’s Progress Through the Indies’, in Prester John, the Mongols and the Ten Lost Tribes, eds. C. F. Beckingham and B. Hamilton (Aldershot, 1996), pp. 237–69; W. Baum, Die Verwandlungen des Mythos vom Reich des Priesterkönigs Johannes: Rom, Byzanz und die Christen des Orients im Mittelalter (Klagenfurt, 1999); C. Rouxpetel, ‘La figure du Prêtre Jean: les mutations d’une prophétie Souverain chrétien idéal, figure providentielle ou paradigme de l’orientalisme médiéval’, Questes, 28 (2014), pp. 99–120. On the specifically African context, see, amongst others, R. Lefevre, ‘Riflessi etiopici nella cultura europea del medioevo e del rinascimento’, Annali Lateranensi, 8 (1944), pp. 9–89; F. Relaño, The Shaping of Africa: Cosmographic Discourse and Cartographic Science in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe (Aldershot, 2002), pp. 51–74.
6. C. Marinescu, ‘Le prêtre Jean. Son Pays. Explication de son Nom’, Académie Roumaine, Bulletin de la Section Historique, 10 (1923), pp. 101–3.
7. For more on this period of Mongol-Latin Christian interaction, see P. Jackson, The Mongols and the West, 1221–1410 (Abingdon, 2018).
8. Il Gadla Yemreḥanna Krestos, ed. and trans. P. Marrassini (Napoli, 1995), pp. 30–2, 45–8 (text), 69–70, 81–3 (trans.); 44 (text), 80 (trans.); M.-L. Derat, ‘Roi prêtre et Prêtre Jean: analyse de la Vie d’un souverain éthiopien du XIIe siècle, Yemreḥanna Krestos’, Annales d’Ethiopie, 27 (2012), pp. 127–43.
9. Churches and Monasteries, ed. and trans. Evetts, pp. 132–3 (text), 286 (trans.).
10. For examples, see U. Monneret de Villard, Storia della Nubia cristiana (Rome, 1938), pp. 98–9; Ruffini Medieval Nubia, pp. 245, 248. On Byzantine priest-kings, see G. Dagron, Emperor and Priest: The Imperial Office in Byzantium, trans. J. Birrell (Cambridge, 2003).
11. Churches and Monasteries, ed. and trans. Evetts, pp. 125 (text), 272 (trans.).
12. Giovanni Ruffini similarly posits that Moüses Georgios may be the source for Abū al-Makārim’s comments: Ruffini Medieval Nubia, 248.
13. L. V. Žabkar, ‘The Eparch of Nubia as King’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies, 22.4 (1963), pp. 217–19; B. Hendrickx, ‘The “Lord of the Mountain”: A Study of the Nubian Eparchos of Nobadia’, Le Muséon, 124.3–4 (2011), pp. 303–55.
14. Moüses Georgios seems to have been particularly keen to display this power – for example, DBMNT no.610; Łajtar and van der Vliet, ‘Rich Ladies of Meinarti’, pp. 47–8.
15. DBMNT no.610; W. Y. Adams, Qasr Ibrîm: The Late Mediaeval Period (London, 1996), pp. 228–9 (trans.).
16. Regrettably, the majority of Ethiopian evidence dates from the fifteenth century, but elements of these better recorded later governmental divisions may be understood to have existed since the establishment of Solomonic rule, if not earlier: D. Crummey, ‘Abyssinian Feudalism’, Past and Present, 89 (1980), pp. 115–38; Merid W. A., ‘Military Elites in Medieval Ethiopia’, JES, 30.1 (1997), pp. 31–73.
17. M. Gosman, ‘La Legende du Pretre Jean et la Propagande auprès des Croises devant Damiette (1218–1221)’, in La Croisade, réalités et fictions: Actes du colloque d’Amiens, 18–22 mars 1987, ed. D. Buschinger (Göppingen, 1989), pp. 133–42; B. Hamilton, ‘The Impact of Prester John on the Fifth Crusade’, in Fifth Crusade in Context, eds. Mylod, Perry, Smith, and Vandeburie, pp. 53–67.
18. Oliver of Paderborn, ‘Historia Damiatini’‚ ed. Hoogeweg, Ch. 35, pp. 231–2 (text); Oliver of Paderborn, Capture of Damietta, trans. Gavigan, pp. 89–90 (trans.).
19. Oliver of Paderborn, ‘Historia Damiatini’‚ ed. Hoogeweg, Ch. 56, 259 (text); Oliver of Paderborn, Capture of Damietta, trans. Gavigan, 113 (trans.). The circulation of such apocalyptic prophecies during the Fifth Crusade was relatively widespread: Lewy, Der Apokalyptische Abessinier, pp. 130–88.
20. Hamilton, ‘Continental Drift’, 246.
21. Benjamin Weber has suggested that it may have been instigated by one or more Copts: Weber, ‘Damiette, 1220: La cinquième croisade et l’Apocalypse arabe de Pierre dans leur contexte nilotique’, Médiévales, 79 (2020), pp. 69–90.
22. For example, the Damietta prophecy was invoked almost verbatim by Marino Sanudo in his Liber Secretorum, which he presented to Pope John XXII in 1321. Another treatise, the 1332 Directorium ad Passagium Faciendum attributed to Pseudo-Brocardus, likewise made reference to the prophesy heard at Damietta. Similarly, it could also be argued that the prophecy also influenced Ottokar aus der Gaal’s early fourteenth-century historical poem the Österreichische Reimchronik where he poetically speaks of the Künig von Ethyopia as wanting to avenge the defeat of the Christians. The prophecy was again told by John of Ypres, writing before his death in 1383, in his Chronico Sythiensi Sancti Bertini whilst abbot of Saint-Bertin: Marino Sanudo Torsello, Liber secretorum, ed. Bongars, Book III Part XI Ch. 7, pp. 207–8 (text); Marino Sanudo Torsello, Book of Secrets, trans. Lock, 329 (trans.); Pseudo-Brocardus, ‘Directorium ad Passagium Faciendum’, in RHC Doc. Arm. II, De tercio motivo ad passagium faciendum, 388; Ottokar aus der Gaal, ‘Österreichische Reimchronik’, in MGH Dt. Chron., V.i, v.52840–53243, pp. 705–12; Iohannes de Ypra, ‘Chronicon S. Bertini’, in Recueil des historiens de la France, t. XVIII, Anno 1218, pp. 607–8.
23. Lewy, Der Apokalyptische Abessinier; L. Greisiger, ‘Ein nubischer Erlöser-König: Kūš in syrischen Apokalypsen des 7. Jahrhunderts’, in Der Christliche Orient und seine Umwelt, eds. S. G. Vashalomidze and L. Greisiger (Wiesbaden, 2007), pp. 189–213. For another example, see J. P. Monferrer Sala, ‘Tradición e intertextualidad en la apocalíptica cristiana oriental. El motivo de los reyes de Etiopía y Nubia en el “Apocalipsis (árabe) del Ps. Atanasio” y sus testimonia apocalyptica’, Al-Qantara, 32.1 (2011), pp. 199–228.
24. See Derat, ‘Roi prêtre et Prêtre Jean’; M. Giardini, ‘The Quest for the Ethiopian Prester John and Its Eschatological Implications’, Medievalia, 22 (2019), pp. 55–87.
25. F. J. Martinez, ‘The King of Rūm and the King of Ethiopia in Medieval Apocalyptic Texts from Egypt’, in Coptic Studies: Acts of the Third International Congress of Coptic Studies, Warsaw, 20–25 August 1984, ed. W. Godlweski (Warsaw, 1990), 253. This is also noted in Knobler, Mythology, 34. Kūš should, however, originally be read as Nubia rather than Ethiopia.
26. J. Tubach, ‘Die Tradition von den vier Weltreichen im christlichen Nubien’, in Die koptische Kirche in den ersten drei islamischen Jahrhunderten: Beiträge zum gleichnamigen Leucorea-Kolloquium 2002, ed. W. Beltz (Halle, 2003), pp. 199–209.
27. A. Musil, Kusejr ‘Amra und Schlösser östlich von Moab, vol. 2 (Vienna, 1907), pl. XXVI.
28. Apocalypse Pseudo-Methodius: An Alexandrian World Chronicle, ed. and trans. B. Garstad (Cambridge, Mass., 2012), Ch. 14, pp. 64–5 (Greek text and trans); 134–5 (Latin text and trans.); Die Syrische Apokalypse des Pseudo-Methodius, ed. G. J. Reinink (Leuven, 1993), pp. 44–5 (Syriac text).
29. The queen’s name is also notable for associations with Kush: Apocalypse Pseudo-Methodius, ed. and trans. Garstad, Ch. 9, pp. 28–33 (Greek text and trans); 100–5 (Latin text and trans.); Die Syrische Apokalypse, ed. Reinink, pp. 17–20 (Syriac text).
30. M. Laureys and D. Verhelst, ‘Pseudo-Methodius, Revelationes: Textgeschichte und kritische Edition. Ein Leuven-Groninger Forschungprojekt’, in The Use and Abuse of Eschatology in the Middle Ages, eds. W. Verbeke, D. Verhelst, and A. Welkenhuysen (Leuven, 1988), pp. 112–36.
31. J. Bignami-Odier and G. Levi Della Vida, ‘Une version latine de l’apocalypse syro-arabo de Serge-Bahira’, Mélanges d’archéologie et d’histoire, 62 (1950), 145.
32. Seignobos, ‘Stratigraphie d’un récit’.
33. B. Roggema, The Legend of Sergius Baḥīrā: Eastern Christian Apologetics and Apocalyptic in Response to Islam (Leiden, 2009), pp. 215–18.
34. For example: History of the Patriarchs of the Coptic Church of Alexandria III: Agathon – Michael I (766 AD), ed. and trans. B. T. A. Evetts, in Patrologia Orientalis, vol. 5.1. (Paris, 1910), pp.145–6 [399–400] (text and trans.).
35. Bausi and Chiesa, ‘The Ystoria Ethyopie’, pp. 18–21 (text and trans.).
36. C. Gadrat, ed. and trans., Une Image de l’Orient au XIVe siècle: Les Mirabilia Descripta de Jordan Catala de Sévérac, edition, traduction et commentaire (Paris, 2005), pp. 259, 265 (text), 287, 293 (trans.).
37. Gadrat, ed. and trans., Une Image de l’Orient, pp. 261 (text), 289 (trans.).
38. For example, see Hamilton, ‘Continental Drift’, 252; Relaño, Shaping of Africa, 55; Gadrat, ed. and trans., Une Image de l’Orient, 182; Kurt, ‘Search for Prester John’, 300.
39. ‘In this Ethiopia there are two mountains of fire [with] a mountain of gold between them’ (In ista Ethiopia, sunt duo montes ignei et in medio mons aureus unus), and ‘It is said that the sultan of Egypt gives a tribute of five hundred thousand ducats each year to this emperor’ (Isti imperatori soldanus Babilonie dat omni anno de tributo quingenta milia duplarum, ut dicitur): Gadrat, ed. and trans., Une Image de l’Orient, pp. 261 (text); 289 (trans.). On the Bāb al-Nūba in Latin European maps, see Seignobos, ‘Nubia and Nubians in Medieval Latin Culture’.
40. De tercia autem Yndia, dicam que non vidi, eo quod ibi non fui. Verum a fide dignis audivi mirabilia multa. Jordanus again reiterates that he cannot say any more having not visited the land himself (Alia de Ethiopia narrare nescio, eo quod non fui ibi), though he claims that he had met many people from there (Multos vidi et habui notos de partibus illis): Gadrat, ed. and trans., Une Image de l’Orient, pp. 259, 261 (text), 287, 289 (trans.).
41. For example, in two letters of 1321 and 1324 Jordanus wrote of his experience in Thane (Thana) and Bharuch (Parocço, Parrhot): J. Quétif and J. Échard, Scriptores ordinis praedicatorum recensiti, notisque historicis et criticis illustrati, vol. 1 (Paris, 1719), pp. 549–50; Annales Minorum Seu Trium Ordinum A S. Francisco Institutorum, ed. L. Wadding, vol. 6 (Rome, 1733), pp. 359–61. His Mirabilia described the islands of Sri Lanka (Sylen) and Java (Jana, Java), Champa (Champa, in Cambodia – a later reference to kings in Chopa may be a mistranscription of the same), and the kingdoms of Malabar (Molebar), Kodungallur (Singuyli), Kollam (Columbum), Mylapore (Molepoor), Telangana (Telene), Goa (?, Maratha. Goa had been known by some as Mahassapatam on account of it being the city of the temple of the Hindu goddess Mahalasa), and Bhatkal (Batigala): Gadrat, ed. and trans., Une Image de l’Orient, pp. 254–8 (text), 283–7 (trans.). Regrettably, Jordanus does not provide a similarly rich geography of his Ethiopia.
42. Liber Peregrinationis, ed. Monneret de Villard, Ch. 2, 32.
43. Jean de Bethencourt, Le Canarien, ed. Gravier, Ch. 56, pp. 90–4 (text); Jean de Bethencourt, The Canarian, trans. Bontier and Le Verrier, 99 (trans.).
44. John of Hildesheim, ‘Historia trium regum’, ed. E. Köpke, in Mitteilungen aus den Handschriften der Ritter-Akademie zu Brandenburg, 1 (1878), pp. 10–11, 14.
45. On this artistic development, see P. H. D. Kaplan, The Rise of the Black Magus in Western Art (Ann Arbor, 1985), pp. 19–78; L. Bisgaard, ‘A Black Mystery. The Hagiography of the Three Magi’, in Medieval History Writing and Crusading Ideology, eds. T. M. S. Lehtonen and K. Villads Jensen (Helsinki, 2005), pp. 120–38.
46. D. Jacoby, ‘Pilgrimage in Crusader Acre: The Pardouns dAcre’, in De Sion exibit lex, ed. Hen, pp. 105–17.
47. On his expansion, see Taddesse Tamrat, Church and State, pp. 132–45.
48. Lettres de Jacques de Vitry, 1160/1170–1240, évêque de Saint-Jean de Acre, ed. R. B. C. Huygens (Leiden, 1960), 141–53; Oliver of Paderborn, ‘Historia Damiatini’‚ ed. Hoogeweg, Ch. 55, 258 (text); Oliver of Paderborn, Capture of Damietta, trans. Gavigan, pp. 112–13 (trans.).
49. The clearest example is the reign of Däwit II (r. c. 1379–1413). Yemreḥanna Krestos was also said to be called David. According to the letter sent by Yǝkuno ʾÄmlak to Sultan Baybars in 1274, which is only known to survive in Arabic texts, the letter was delayed because King (malik) David had died and his son had become king. Stuart Munro-Hay had confused this mention to refer to the contemporary Nubian ourou David – Munro-Hay splits this ruler into David I and David II – but David’s captivity in Cairo in 1276 would suggest a punishment for his exploits at ʿAidhāb and that this was not a second ruler, thus the ourou not dying prior to the letter of Yǝkuno ʾÄmlak. Munro-Hay’s explanation would also mean that the texts portray Ethiopia as being at war with Nubia, which there is no evidence of. Instead, the Ethiopian David’s death should be viewed as a regal name for Yǝkuno ʾÄmlak’s father; indeed, Yǝkuno ʾÄmlak was referred to as the son of David in some later Ethiopian texts: al-Mufaḍḍal, Histoire des Sultans Mamlouks, ed. and trans. Blochet, II:384 [220] (text and trans.); S. Munro-Hay, ‘Kings and Kingdoms of Ancient Nubia’, RSE, 29 (1982–3), pp. 118–19; G. W. B. Huntingford, ‘“The Wealth of Kings” and the End of the Zāguē Dynasty’, BSOAS, 28.1 (1965), pp. Plate IV (text), 14 (trans.).
50. Ibn ͑Abd al-Ẓāhir, Tašrīf, 156.
51. The march most likely happened around a decade earlier: M. Charles, ‘The Elephants of Aksum: In Search of the Bush Elephant in Late Antiquity’, JLA, 11.1 (2018), pp. 170n16.
52. The two most important collections of the Al-Sihah al-Sittah both relate the episode: The Translations of the Meanings of Sahīh al-Bukhārī, ed. and trans. M. Muhsin Khan, 9 vols. (Riyadh, 1997), II:383 (text and trans.); The Translations of the Meanings of Sahīh Muslim, ed. and trans. N. al-Khattab and H. Khattab, 7 vols. (Riyadh, 2007), VII:306 (text and trans.). See also: L. Conrad, ‘Abraha and Muhammad: Some Observations Apropos of Literary ‘Topoi’ in the Early Arabic Historical Tradition’, BSOAS, 50.2 (1987), pp. 225–40; E. van Donzel, ‘Abraha the Abyssinian in Islamic Tradition’, Aethiopica, 12 (2009), pp. 48–57.
53. T. Bibliander, Machumetis Saracenorum principis, eiusque successorum vitae, doctrina ac ipse Alcoran (Basel, 1543), 187. Also see T. E. Burman, Reading the Qur’an in Latin Christendom, 1140–1560 (Philadelphia, 2007).
54. Itinerarium, ed. and trans. Esposito, Ch. 41, pp. 66–7 (text and trans.).
55. Johannes de Marignolli, ‘Relatio’, Ch. 1, in Sinica Franciscana: Volumen I: Itinera et Relationes Fratrum Minorum Saeculi XIII et XIV, ed. A. van den Wyngaert (Rome, 1929), 532.
56. Marco Polo, Description, eds. and trans. Moule and Pelliot, Ch. 193, pp. I:434–40.
57. See I. Reginato, ‘El Preste Joan i Etiòpia/Núbia a la redacció catalana del Milió’, Mot so razo, 14 (2015), pp. 7–24.
58. For example, Lewy, Der Apokalyptische Abessinier.
59. For example, this is asserted as fact in: Brewer, Prester John, 321.
60. This region of the map was already badly damaged before its destruction, but it is unlikely that it contained any information to contradict de la Flamma’s, and thus Carignano’s, text: A. E. Nordenskiöld, Periplus: An Essay on the Early History of Charts and Sailing-Directions: With Numerous Reproductions of Old Charts and Maps, trans. F. A. Bather (Stockholm, 1897), pl. IX.
61. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, CPL GE B-696 (Rés).
62. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MSS Espagnol 30.
63. Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, MS Borgia XVI.
64. Falchetta, Fra Mauro’s World Map.
65. A. Caquot, ‘Le nom du roi de Rome dans le Kebra Nagast’, in Guirlande pour Abba Jérome: Travaux offerts à Abba Jérome Gabra Musé par ses élèves et ses amis réunis, ed. J. Tubiana (Paris, 1983), pp. 153–66; A. Caquot, ‘L’Ethiopie dans les Révélations du Pseudo-Méthode et dans le livre éthiopien de la gloire des rois’, Revue de la Société Ernest Renan, 39 (1989–1990), pp. 53–65; A. Caquot, ‘Le Kebra Nagast et les Révélations du Pseudo-Méthode’, in Études éthiopiennes: Actes du a Xe conference internationale des études éthiopiennes, Paris 24–28 août 1988, ed. C. LePage (Paris, 1994), pp. 331–5.
66. A. Grohmann, ‘Die im Äthiopischen, Arabischen und Koptischen erhaltenen Visionen Apa Shenute’s von Atripe’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft, 67 (1913), pp. 248–65 (text and trans.).
67. Grohmann, ‘Die im Äthiopischen’, pp. 260–3 (text and trans.).
68. B. Nogara, ed., Scritti Inediti e Rari Di Biondo Flavio (Rome, 1927), 23; Krebs, ‘Fancy Names and Fake News’.
69. The four letters were written to Dom Manuel between 1514 and 1518 and are currently held at the Arquivo Nacional Torre do Tombo in Lisbon: ANTT, Colecção de cartas, Núcleo Antigo 891, mç. 1, n.° 39; ANTT, Colecção de cartas, Núcleo Antigo 891, mç. 1, n.° 40; ANTT, Colecção de cartas, Núcleo Antigo 891, mç. 1, n.° 41; ANTT, Colecção de cartas, Núcleo Antigo 891, mç. 1, n.° 42. Copies of certain correspondence from ʾƎleni to Manuel, such as that which have been preserved in a chronicle held in ʾAksum, however, do not invoke Prester John in any form, though it does direct Manuel to listen to the words of Mateus as if they were the nǝguś’ own: Sergew Hable Sellassie, ‘The Ge’ez Letters’, pp. 554–8.
70. Lisbon, Arquivo Nacional Torre do Tombo, Colecção de cartas, Núcleo Antigo 891, mç. 1, n.° 39.
71. Liber Peregrinationis, ed. Monneret de Villard, Ch. 2, 32; Johannes de Marignolli, ‘Relatio’, Ch. 1, in Sinica Franciscana I, ed. van den Wyngaert, 532. On the myth, see E.-D. Hecht, ‘Ethiopia Threatens to Block the Nile’, Azania: Archaeological Research in Africa, 23 (1988), pp. 1–10; S. Munro-Hay, Ethiopia and Alexandria, pp. 157–60; R. Pankhurst, ‘Ethiopia’s Alleged Control of the Nile’, in The Nile: Histories, Cultures, Myths, eds. H. Erlich and I. Gershoni (Boulder, 2000), pp. 25–37; H. Erlich, The Cross and the River: Ethiopia, Egypt and the Nile (Boulder, 2014), pp. 35–8; V. Krebs, ‘Crusading Threats? Ethiopian-Egyptians Relation in the 1440s’, in Croisades en Afrique, ed. Weber, pp. 245–74. Despite the growing role of Ethiopia in Latin Christian discourse, Ethiopia did not necessarily replace Nubia as the subject of this myth immediately with Philippe de Mézières in his c. 1389 epic Le songe du vieil pelerine, for instance, confusing Ethiopia’s alleged control of the Nile and wrongfully attributing this ability to the king of Nubie: Philippe de Mézières, Le songe du vieil pelerin, eds. Blanchard, Calvet, and Kahn, Book I Ch. 9, pp. I:221–2.
72. John of Sultaniya’s record of the 1402 embassy to Venice in c.1404, for example, notes the Ethiopian ruler’s power over the Nile: A. Kern, ‘Der “Libellus de Notitia Orbis” Iohannes III (De Galonifontibus) O. P. Erzbischofs von Sulthanyeh’, Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum, 8 (1938), Ch. 17, pp. 120–1. On the later Latin Christian importance placed upon the blockading of the Nile, see B. Weber, ‘Bloquer le Nil pour assécher l’Égypte: un ambitieux projet de croisade?’, in Croisades en Afrique, ed. Weber, pp. 215–44.
73. Lettera inedita del presto Giovanni all’imperatore Carlo iv, ed. Del Prete, pp. 9–22.
74. See G. Constable, ‘Forgery and Plagiarism in the Middle Ages’, Archiv für Diplomatik, Schriftgeschichte, Siegel- und Wappenkunde, 29 (1983), pp. 1–41, quote on 1.
75. El libro del conoscimiento, ed. and trans. Marino, pp. xxx–xxxi.
76. El libro del conoscimiento, ed. and trans. Marino, pp. 60–3 (text and trans.).
77. Royal and Historical Letters during the Reign of Henry the Fourth, King of England and of France, and Lord of Ireland, vol. 1, ed. F. C. Hingeston (London, 1860), pp. 421–2.
78. C. Given-Wilson, Henry IV (New Haven, 2016), pp. 398–9.
79. For examples of gifts associated with the 1402 embassy, see M. E. Heldman, ‘A Chalice from Venice for Emperor Dāwit of Ethiopia’, BSOAS, 53.3 (1990), pp. 442–5; M. Mulugetta, ‘A Mechanical Clock from Venice for Emperor Dawit of Ethiopia’, Aethiopica, 13 (2010), pp. 189–92; HPEC III.III, pp. 249–50; Krebs, Medieval Ethiopian Kingship, pp. 23–5.
80. Brewer, Prester John, 284.
81. M. Salvadore, ‘The Jesuit Mission to Ethiopia (1555–1634) and the Death of Prester John’, in World-Building and the Early Modern Imagination, ed. A. B. Kavey (New York, 2010), pp. 141–72.