Chapter 97

The heart of medieval European society was, without a doubt, Christianity—specifically, the Catholic Church. The center of community life was the church gathering. The most authoritative intellectuals in every region were the priests. And the most important focal point of local society was, of course… the cathedral.

In a cathedral, a person’s birth is celebrated, and through the sacrament of Baptism, they are established as a member of the Christian faith. Then, in a traditional Catholic cathedral, a person’s coming of age is celebrated with the sacrament of Confirmation. The cathedral is also the space where one participates in the faith community by attending Mass every week. It is where the sacrament of Matrimony is held, officially recognizing the formation of a ‘family,’ the most basic unit of the faith community, and it is where the funeral is held when that person dies.

Thus, a person’s life begins and ends in the cathedral. Thus, a community is maintained and moves through the space of the cathedral.

From the Middle Ages onward, the cathedral could be called the very heart of a European community. This was true for us as well, considering that our chapel in Chesapeake had for a time also served as the council hall and as a meeting place for me and the Apostles. It was only natural. It’s convenient to hold meetings and decide on important community matters in the place where people gather every week. For the same reason, in the original history, the church meetinghouse became the center of the early American pioneer communities.

Therefore, it began very simply.

—“Our population is already approaching seventy thousand. Don’t you think it would be good to have at least one proper chapel building?” 

—“Well… yes, that’s true.” 

—“Mrs. Dare is right. We cannot have priests like Hewitt or Harriot conducting important ceremonies outdoors forever. For example, what if it suddenly starts raining in the middle of Mass…?”

As for how our church is run… well… ‘Haphazardly’ is really the only way to describe it.

Priests and deacons are generally chosen by vote or serve in rotation by drawing lots, though the priesthood is usually filled by those who have learned our doctrine from Hewitt or Harriot. Those who go out to the distant trading posts also need someone to celebrate Mass and deliver sermons, so we send the ones who have studied the doctrine the most to serve as their priests. Or, again, the people at the trading post just vote for one among themselves.

The same goes for the ranks above priest and deacon. Usually, a bishop is elected by a vote among the priests, and sometimes I just pick someone and dispatch them to a faraway post. As for an archbishop… we don’t have one of those yet. With a population of only sixty to seventy thousand, what’s the point? That would be as ridiculous as a five-person club electing a president, vice-president, secretary, treasurer, and auditor. Anyway, the archbishop will probably just be elected by a vote among the bishops later.

…What is this terrible hybrid of Catholicism and Protestantism? Well, since our community has both Catholics and Protestants, this was the result of just mashing everything together. Some people say pastor instead of priest, and some say superintendent instead of bishop, but it doesn’t really matter, so I just let it be. Doctrinal disputes just give me a headache.

Above the elected deacons, priests, and bishops are the Apostles, and at the very top is me. You could say I’m something like the pope of the Nemoists—no, the ‘Namelessism’ denomination. Looking back at that summary, I really did use the words ‘generally’ and ‘haphazardly’ a lot. It seems our church organization is truly run on a whim. Well, it’ll work itself out somehow. It’s not something to worry about right now.

In any case, while the church organization could be left as it is, other important matters could not be handled so carelessly. Although it was slapdash, Namelessism was still a form of Christianity, so everyone administered baptism to new believers. They gave sermons on the contents of the Bible and frequently held Communion. And church events are usually held on Sundays, which means that once a week, the faithful must gather around their priest (…or pastor, or whatever).

For people to gather, there needs to be a place to gather. And that place to gather is a cathedral.

I hadn’t realized it, but it seemed people were heartbroken over calling a shabby hut with a cross stuck on it a cathedral. Especially on the rare occasions when I would stop by and offer a few words of blessing, a sentiment would apparently rise among the people: ‘The angel is giving a sermon, but this place is too shabby!’

And above all…

—“Beauty and grandeur can sometimes kindle a sense of holy reverence. From a practical standpoint as well, we need at least one respectable cathedral.” 

—“…Do you think so too, Hewitt?” 

—“Of course. Why did the Catholics create statues of the saints? Was it not to make it easier to preach to the barbarians?”

Right… I get it. You’re saying we need at least one ‘cool-looking’ building to project dignity and aid in missionary work, right? From that perspective, the grand and decorative elements of cathedrals and churches could be seen as being designed for a highly practical purpose. Once built, they overwhelm people.

And so… the project to build our denomination’s first ‘cathedral’ began.

—“Did you not say we are not to erect graven images! Everything but the holy paintings and the cross must be removed!” 

—“Why… would we get rid of such a good thing? Do you really intend to just show a single cross to the natives who have never encountered Christianity before and say, ‘This is our God’?” 

—“Can that not be explained well enough through a sermon?” 

—“If a sermon alone was enough, we wouldn’t have needed to build a cathedral like this in the first place, would we?” 

—“…Mr. Hewitt, Vicente, that is enough. Are you not ashamed to be seen by the faithful?”

Of course, it was a very eventful process. This was, after all, the early 17th century. The age of religious wars.

…I somehow managed to mediate the conflict between Hewitt and Vicente. We decided to install a ‘crucifix,’ which shows Jesus hanging on the cross, but to exclude all other statues of saints and angels.

Ugh, this is exhausting. I barely suppressed a sigh as I left the meeting hall and looked out at the cathedral’s ‘construction site.’ A year had passed since the topic was first raised… but only the foundation had been laid. A complex and grand building like a cathedral takes a long time just to design, and when they had argued for days on end about whether to even install statues, it would be a miracle if it didn’t take a long time to build.

Still, a warehouse to store the materials and interior decorations for the cathedral had been built, so I went to have a look…

Creeeeak!

“…Are all of these items donated?”

“Yes. For the most part, it seems so.”

Piled up here were all sorts of high-quality materials and religious artworks imported through French merchants. On top of that were jewels and various valuables offered by the native tribes. Donations were pouring in from all over the Americas.

Outside the warehouse window, natives, Englishmen, and Africans were moving back and forth, erecting pillars and the frame. …It seemed that some progress was being made, at least.

***

Henri de Bourbon. Henry IV of France and Navarre. The great founder of the Bourbon dynasty, the hero who ended the long religious civil wars…

“First Minister! Marquis de Rosny! Maximilien! D-dammit…! The finances are on the verge of collapse again! Do we really have to build that canal?”

“Your Majesty, you know this yourself. To collect taxes from that region…”

“Uuuuugh.”

…was currently strapped for cash.

After yet another series of meetings with his most trusted favorite, the First Minister and Minister of Finances, Maximilien de Béthune, the Marquis de Rosny[1], he collapsed into his chair as if to faint. It had been all well and good to become the one and only rightful king of France. However, the fact that this France was a pile of ruins, filled with Catholics and Protestants who wanted to kill him, was not exactly desirable.

That’s right. The situation in France was not good. Over the past few years, he had managed to pull the domestic situation out of the mire, but the civil war had been too long, and spies from Spain and anti-royalist factions were everywhere. Every day was an arduous battle.

‘Could I, too, like that Elizabeth, just throw it all away and enjoy what I can…?’ No, I can’t.

He had a dynasty that was only recently established and children to whom he had to pass on the throne. His starting point was different from that of Elizabeth, who could just live for herself and leave when she was gone.

‘No… who am I envying?’ Was it not Elizabeth’s fault that he was in such a tight spot right now?

The chaos on the British Isles had caused trade with Virginia to shrink, and with it, the various luxury goods that Elizabeth had been funneling directly to the French royal court had also been cut off. Hadn’t the funds he could raise from the nobles plummeted because of that, leading to his current suffering?

Still… he was envious. Wasn’t it because she had her own power that she could make such a bold choice? Didn’t she have the ability and the foundation to win over even the King of Scotland? But he had no such foundation. He had to achieve it with his own two hands, from the ruins…!

As he was thinking this, he clenched his fists and was about to rise and look to the heavens when there was a knock.

Knock. Knock. “Your Majesty, the merchants who have crossed the Atlantic request an audience.”

“…Let them in.”

The King of France corrected his posture, assuming a dignified pose and a graceful expression. There was no trace of the man who had been groaning in agony just moments before. The doors opened, and the merchants Henry IV had dispatched bowed their heads. When he gave a slight nod, they sat politely across from him.

“Your Majesty, the voyage to Virginia was a great success! They are buying up a massive amount of luxury goods there!” 

“Here is the list! The amount of furs and aluminum we have received in return is staggering!”

The merchants were beaming. The thought, ‘I’m struggling while you’re all prospering,’ was irritating, but Henry did not show such amateurish emotion. “Welcome. You are the heroes of our fatherland, France.” He simply smiled quietly and nodded. The merchants chattered on, presenting samples of furs and ingots of aluminum they had brought from the New World. The quality of the furs was indeed excellent, and the precious metal called aluminum shone with a mysterious luster. But it was not such things that caught Henry’s eye.

“Hm? What is that round object?”

“Ah, Your Majesty? Ahh… my apologies. I was wondering why the books were off by exactly 100 livres.”

A small disc, stuck to a nearby metal fitting, had popped out from among the goods the merchants had presented. One side was black, the other white. As Henry IV carefully detached it from the metal ornament, he felt a strange resistance.

“Does it contain a lodestone?”

“Ah, you are correct, Your Majesty! That is the currency used for trade in the land of Virginia! We looked into whether it could be replicated, but it seems we cannot identify the material it is made of…”

“…”

It was light, with a smooth, warm texture like porcelain or ivory. Henry IV, who did not know the word ‘plastic,’ was unable to identify the chip’s nature. He disassembled it, confirmed that a well-processed round lodestone was inside, then put it back together and tucked it into his coat.

With his characteristic good-natured smile, Henry said to the merchants, “It certainly looks difficult to replicate.”

“Indeed. We do not know what technology was used to create it, but even if we were to find out, it is doubtful we could copy it.”

“…”

Exquisite, and strange. Unable to forget the feel of the chip he had pocketed, Henry IV looked over the list of exports to Virginia again. High-quality marble, colored glass, timber, and… …Huh?

He felt a sense of incongruity. A feeling that he was missing something obvious… ah. Henry IV shot to his feet as something dawned on him.

“Luxury goods… you said they ordered many luxury goods?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“What kinds of things?”

“They were mostly religious items. For example, crucifixes, statues of Jesus, and various holy paintings…”

“Yes. That’s it!”

Henry IV automatically rose to his feet. The merchants, who could not remain seated in his presence, also stood, not knowing what was going on. But the man who would trade his religion as lightly as a pair of shoes for the throne, a monarch whose madness was no less than Elizabeth’s, muttered, “It’s all… either Christian… or building materials, isn’t it?”

“Is that so? Let’s see… Oh, you are absolutely right.”

These fools. If this was all they had, he shouldn’t have bothered spending the royal budget to send them. They didn’t notice this? This obvious fact?

A cold sweat trickled down Henry IV’s back. The emperor who rules North America. To be honest… he still hadn’t been able to believe in his existence. He had thought that although numerous natives testified to a being called ‘Nemo,’ it was nothing more than that. He had assumed it was either an English fabrication or that this ‘Nemo’ was just a superstitious object of worship for the natives. Logically, if there were an emperor who controlled North America, how could he not have been discovered over the past several decades?

But… “Various holy paintings, crucifixes, building materials…” All religious items, all building materials.

The English in Virginia, who numbered no more than a few hundred or a thousand, could not have requested all these luxury goods. Especially not such a large amount of useless building materials. If so…

‘At least, tens of thousands.’ Yes. There is a massive community of at least tens of thousands within that land. And it is a community that feels the need to construct a large-scale Christian building. A native emperor who has converted… to Christianity?

“That… it’s not really a fantasy cooked up by the Englishmen?”

“Y-Your Majesty?”

“Be quiet.” My head is complicated enough as it is. Oh, good heavens.

The ‘Emperor’… actually exists? Across that sea, there really exists a powerful Christian empire?