_Of a great Cure performed by the Armenian monk Sergius, on one of the
Wives of Mangu-khan_.
Sometime after the lady Cota was sick almost to death, and the divination
by lot of the idolaters did her no good. Mangu-khan then sent for the monk,
who indiscreetly engaged to cure her on the forfeiture of his head. On
this, the monk sent for us, and entreated us, with tears, to watch and pray
all night along with him, which we did. He took of a certain root called
rhubarb, which he beat to powder and put among water, along with a little
crucifix, and he used to give of that water to all sick persons, which
griped them by reason of its bitterness, and which they attributed to a
miracle. I proposed to prepare some holy water, according to the rites of
the church of Rome, which hath great power to cast out devils, as I
understood the lady was vexed of a devil[1]. At his request, I consecrated
some holy water, which he mingled with the rhubarb, and left his crucifix
all night in the mixture.
Next morning I and the monk and two Nestorian priests went to the lady, who
was then in a small house behind her great one. She sat up in her bed and
worshipped the cross, laying it honourably by her upon a silken cloth; she
drank of the holy water mixed with rhubarb, and washed her breast, and, at
the desire of the monk, I read the passion of our Lord according to St
John, over her. At length she felt herself relieved, and ordered four
jascots to be brought, which she first laid at the foot of the cross, and
gave three to the monk, offering one to me, which I refused; then the monk
took this likewise, and gave one to each of the priests, keeping two to
himself, so that she gave away forty marks in all at this time.[2] She then
ordered wine, which she gave to the priests, and made me drink thrice from
her hand in honour of the holy trinity. She likewise began to teach me the
language, jesting with me, because I was silent for want of an interpreter.
Next day Mangu-khan, hearing that we were passing, and having learned that
the lady Cota was somewhat better, made us come in, and took the cross into
his hand, asking several questions, which I did not understand, but I did
not see that he worshipped it. The monk, by my suggestion, craved leave to
carry the cross aloft on a lance, and Manga gave permission that it might
be carried in any way we thought fit. Then paying our obeisance to the
khan, we went to the lady Cota, whom we found strong and cheerful. She
still drank the holy water, and we read the passion over her; but those
miserable priests never taught her the articles of our holy faith, neither
advised her to be baptized, nor did they find fault with any kind of
sorcery. For I saw four swords half drawn out of their sheaths, one at the
head of her bed, one at the foot, and one on either side of her door. I
observed likewise one of our silver chalices, probably taken from some
church in Hungary, which hung against the wall, full of ashes, on the top
of which lay a black stone; but these priests not only do not teach them
that such things are evil, but even practice similar things. We continued
our visits for three days, by which time she was restored to perfect
health. During these visits, she continued to rally me on my silence, and
endeavoured to teach me their language.
I honoured the monk Sergius as my bishop, because he could speak the
language, though he was totally uneducated; and I afterwards learnt, when I
came to his own country on my return, that he was no priest, but merely an
adventurous weaver. In many things he acted in a way that much displeased
me, for he caused to be made for himself a folding chair such as bishops
use, and gloves, and a cap of peacocks feathers, with a small gold cross;
but I was well pleased with the cross. He had scabbed feet, which he
endeavoured to palliate with ointments[3]; was very presumptuous in speech,
was present at many of the vain and idolatrous rites of the Nestorians, and
had many other vanities with which I was much displeased. Yet we joined his
society for die honour of the cross, as he got a banner full of crosses on
a cane as long as a lance, and we carried the cross aloft through among all
the tents of the Tartars, singing _Vexilla regis prodeant_, &c. to the
great regret of the Mahometans, who were envious of our favour.
I was informed of a certain Armenian who came, as he said, from Jerusalem
along with the monk Sergius, carrying a silver cross of about four marks
weight, adorned with precious stones, which he presented to Mangu-khan, who
asked what was his petition. He represented himself to be the son of an
Armenian priest, whose church had been destroyed by the Saracens, and
craved his help for rebuilding that church. Being asked how much that might
cost, he said two hundred jascots, or two thousand marks; and the khan
ordered letters to be given him, ordering those who received the tribute of
Persia and the Greater Armenia, to pay him that sum in silver[4]. The monk
continued to carry this cross about with him wherever he went, and the
Nestorian priests became envious of the profit which he derived from its
use.
[1] From the whole of this story, it would appear that the lady Cota was
hysterical from constipation; and that Sergius had the good fortune to
remove the cause by a few doses of rhubarb.--E.
[2] About L. 30, perhaps equal in efficacy to L. 300 of modern days; no bad
fee for administering a dose of rhubarb.--E.
[3] This surely was a sinless infirmity, and needed not to have been
recorded to his dishonour. He was probably afflicted with chilblains,
in consequence of the severity of the Tartarian climate.--E.
[4] L. 1500 in weight, equal at least to L. 15,000 of our modern money; a
most magnificent present to an itinerant beggar.--E.