Prince Constantine’s inspiring success breathed new life into the empire.
Though the full recovery of the Peloponnesian Peninsula was thwarted by Venetian intervention, preparations for a counteroffensive against the Ottomans were gradually taking shape. When the decisive moment arrived, the empire would muster its remaining strength to fiercely resist its fate. But that moment was not yet at hand. Believing this, the conservative faction, led by the long-reigning Manuel II and Chancellor Notaras, refrained from engaging in aggressive military actions.
This cautious stance provoked opposition.
The pro-war faction, primarily composed of young individuals, argued for driving out the Ottomans through an alliance with Western Europe. They warned that if the Ottomans were allowed to consolidate their power, the resulting disparity in national strength would become insurmountable. They advocated for striking while the Ottomans were still vulnerable and emphasized the necessity of church unification to secure Western Europe’s aid.
The prominent figure of this faction was Co-Emperor John VIII.
“Father, you know that only by driving them out can the empire survive. Why, then, do you not vigorously pursue church unification?” John VIII demanded.
“John, while your ultimate goal of church unification is correct, the timing is not yet right. People are incredibly sensitive to issues related to the church and faith, and we must approach with greater caution. More…” Manuel II began.
“There isn’t much time left!” John VIII interjected, raising his voice.
“How long must we wait? With each passing day, they grow stronger, and our strength diminishes. Everyone is in despair and resignation—why else would the young Constantine so willingly take on such a harsh mission?”
“If we lose even what little remains, that will be the end of the empire, my son.”
“We cannot overcome trials by standing idle!” John VIII retorted.
Despite his passionate plea, the aging emperor remained unmoved. Manuel II’s eyes remained calm, unaffected by any argument. Realizing the futility of his persuasion, John VIII bit his lower lip lightly and left the emperor’s office, leaving behind only the old emperor and his aging secretary.
Manuel II gazed at the spot where John VIII had stood and quietly spoke.
“If only he had been born in a better time, he might have made a great emperor.”
“Your Majesty, do not blame yourself. The citizens know that you have done your best.”
“…I feel my strength declining with each passing day. It has been a harsh 20 years…”
Manuel II had knelt and prayed in the Hagia Sophia each time the Ottoman army besieged Constantinople, pleading that the empire would not fall during his reign. The 20 years of relentless struggle that followed had been a solitary battle to save the empire at its end. His countless efforts to revive the empire flashed before him, now approaching their conclusion. Soon, the outcome would be clear—whether it would be the birth of a new empire or its resurrection.
“Now, I only fear that the passion of the young will ruin everything.”
“Your Majesty…”
On this day, the emperor decided to retire.
Before his own retirement, the elderly Sphrantzes had already retired from his position as secretary through death. In the sorrow of losing his long-time friend, the emperor faced the legacy and face of his late companion.
“You must be young Sphrantzes.”
“I am Georgios Sphrantzes, Your Majesty.”
A wind of change was blowing through the empire. In the capital, intense debates between the war party, advocating for a new crusade against the Ottomans, and the conservative faction were ongoing.
Meanwhile, in the Peloponnesus, Morea was unusually unified and bustling around a single figure.
Under the passionate governance of Prince Constantine, Morea was flourishing. Scholars and monks, displaced by the fall of the capital, were soon appointed as officials or granted academic freedom, thanks to the prince’s attention. Utilizing these individuals, the prince worked to establish the once-proud bureaucratic system of the empire throughout Morea. As administrative capabilities were secured, the accumulating resources and manpower were directed toward organizing a regular army.
Additionally, to revitalize Morea’s economy, roads were constructed, and fortresses were built at key points, preparing for the inevitable Ottoman invasion.
To counter the local lords who considered themselves merely ‘Princes of the Empire,’ he adopted his mother’s surname over the imperial Palaiologos. This name became his enduring moniker, and in Morea, Prince Constantine came to be known as Dragaš. However, there remained a lingering regret among the people—the failure to reclaim Achaea.
Perhaps it was divine providence.
Not long after their marriage, Prince Theodore’s wife, Adele, succumbed to a fever. With no close relatives, her Duchy of Achaea naturally passed to Theodore, who then transferred the control of the duchy to Prince Constantine.
This was in 1418.
Previously constrained by Venetian interference, Prince Constantine now returned as the rightful owner, making a triumphant entry. His first act was to expel the Latin archbishop ruling Patras. He then declared that while the lands and governance of the remaining Latin lords would be recognized, imperial law would take precedence, with imperial judges exempt from local jurisdiction.
Thus, the centuries-long reclamation of the Peloponnesus was finally accomplished.
This event occurred when the prince was just fourteen years old.
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