Teutonic Knights

by William Urban

  The real issue was power – if the Teutonic Knights held Pomerellia and Danzig, they could bring crusaders to Prussia no matter what the king’s current policies were, and they could raise troops and taxes from that land to support their operations on the eastern frontier; if the Polish king held Pomerellia, he could reduce Prussia to a dependency. Since the military order considered possession of Pomerellia necessary for survival, the grand masters gave this issue their highest priority. For the king, in contrast, possessing Pomerellia had few advantages other than in bringing the Teutonic Order to heel; the number of knights and taxpayers in that land would increase his power and wealth only marginally. Therefore it was an issue which he could deal with later.

  Had the Polish kingdom never suffered military disasters at the hands of the Mongols in the 1240s, Pomerellia would probably have ended up in Piast possession – not only by right of inheritance (and the Teutonic Order suffered in this way for its vow of celibacy), but because the Piast dukes would have been strong enough to force the Teutonic Order to share in the fruits of the holy war right from the beginning, before it was firmly established in East Prussia. At the minimum the Masovian dukes would have taken Culm and named favourably-inclined prelates for the four Prussian bishoprics, and it is unlikely that any ambitious dynasty of any nationality would have been able to refrain forever from attempting to extend its control over the rest of the order’s lands. Since Duke Conrad and his heirs controlled the water routes in Masovia that led toward Lithuania and into Volhynia, they were committed to defending those lands against pagan attacks. Additional early commitments in Prussia would likely have involved them even more deeply in the future conflicts with Lithuania.

  This was not Poland’s destiny, however. Since the Polish kingdom suffered one defeat after another, all Poles could do was to bemoan the lost opportunities. All patriots could do was await the day when the kingdom reawakened, when king, important nobles, clergy, knights, and gentry could work together again for the good of the commonwealth and the good of Christendom. At the mid-point of the thirteenth century that seemed far away, but by the end of the century it seemed within reach.

  The Unification of Poland

  The unification of the Polish kingdom did not come swiftly or easily. It came about, in fact, almost by accident, as branches of the widespread Piast dynasty ceased to produce sons. The line that held the duchy of Cracow (and the crown) ended with the death of Boleslaw the Pious in 1279. Leszek the Black, a grandson of Conrad of Masovia, became king. Leszek proved himself to be a capable leader by defeating Rus’ians in battle, then crushing the Sudovian Prussians in 1282, and finally using Hungarian and Cuman warriors to capture Cracow in 1285. He survived a devastating Mongol invasion in 1287, only to die without issue the following year. With him died the immediate hopes of restoring Polish power and prestige.

  Henryk of Silesia moved quickly to claim Cracow. Although his relatives supported Boleslaw of Masovia, Henryk had the bigger army and was closer to Cracow, and therefore he held the southern part of the kingdom easily. But Henryk was not popular – culturally he was less Polish than German. Orphaned early in life, he had saved himself from his Silesian relatives only by asking Ottokar of Bohemia to act as his guardian. He had grown up at the Bohemian court and his army had formed a third of the Czech force that was defeated by Rudolf von Habsburg in 1278 at the decisive encounter in which King Ottokar lost his life; but Henryk did not hesitate to seek out the victor of that contest and swear allegiance to him. After returning to Silesia, he brought in more German settlers and made the German influence at his court more dominant than before. Many Poles were offended by this and feared that under Henryk Poland would become a mere appendage of the Holy Roman Empire. To judge from Henryk’s will, however, this fear seems to have been exaggerated. When he died suddenly in 1290 in the midst of negotiations with the pope for his coronation, he left instructions to give Cracow to Przemysł of Great Poland, and Silesia to his cousin Henryk, with the intent that this latter territory would return to the crown later. Unfortunately, not everyone agreed to this formula. Ladislas the Short (Władysław Łotietek, 1261 – 1333) of Kujavia protested, and so did Wenceslas II (Vaclav, 1271 – 1305) of Bohemia, who began a contest for the throne that lasted, with interruptions, almost two decades.

  The Czech king was far more powerful than his opponent and by 1292 had occupied all of southern Poland. The north was held by Przemysł, who was the heir of Mestwin of Pomerellia as well as of the dukes of Great Poland. Przemysł acted first on the idea of reviving the kingship by having himself crowned by the archbishop of Gniezno in 1295, but his reign was short – he was assassinated within a year, in what may have been a failed kidnapping. Although no guilty party was ever discovered, many suspected that the dukes of Brandenburg were behind the plot, the motive being possession of Pomerellia. After the confusion had quieted down, Ladislas the Short held the late king’s lands and pretensions. In the meantime, the vassals of Pomerellia became the de facto rulers; the foremost of these was Swenza (Święca, Schwetz) of Danzig and Stolp and his son, Peter.

  By this time it was clear to everyone that the reunification of the Polish kingdom was but a short time off. The Prussian masters had to think about what this would mean for them. Their relationship with the Piast dukes had varied considerably over the years, but in general it had been friendly and mutually helpful. Moreover, in many ways the Teutonic Order had helped bring about the favourable changes that were now occurring in the kingdom. By protecting the frontier from pagan attack, the Teutonic Knights had helped stabilise the country, so that the dukes could concentrate on badly needed internal reforms. By bringing a steady stream of crusaders across Silesia and Great Poland, they had helped stimulate the local economy; this aided in the development of a middle-class that paid taxes and provided services, thus encouraging further development of internal trade and manufactures. The roads and bridges were improved so that communication became easier and more dependable throughout the kingdom.

  Following the example of those churchmen who had settled Germans on the land in Silesia, Pomerellia, and Prussia, the dukes began an internal colonisation of their own, using Polish as well as German peasants. More important, they relaxed the laws that kept most of the peasantry in bondage. The newly freed peasants worked harder and were more productive than serfs, and this had a good effect on the economy, which in turn raised the ducal incomes. The numerous Polish knights profited from this, too. However, as they developed a sense of their importance they expressed their growing self-confidence and ambition in a jingoistic patriotism that included strong anti-German sentiments. This naturally worried the leaders of the Teutonic Order, because such vocal hostility had to affect their relations with the Piast dukes.

  All the forces that were moving in the direction of a national rebirth in Poland could be harnessed for use in various ways by anyone lucky and skilful enough to unify the country and crown himself its king. The Teutonic Knights would have been frightened by the prospect of having a powerful German prince as a neighbour, but the prospect of having an unpredictable and quarrelsome Piast on the throne must have been particularly unsettling. Especially if that Piast was Ladislas the Short. Well-known to the knights of the order, he, in turn, knew them well. Neither trusted the other, yet neither wanted to begin a feud.

  Ladislas was a man of moods but of consistent policy. His abrasive personality often stood between him and his goals, but his perseverance and combativeness won the hearts of many of Poland’s knights and gentry. For many years this was unimportant to the Prussian masters, since Ladislas’ ambitions caused him to look south, not north. Involved in many intrigues over many years, he had relatively little to do with the Teutonic Order for long periods of time; this meant that he made few efforts to undermine the crusade in Prussia in those decades when the outcome was still in doubt. Considering this, and considering that Ladislas would probably not succeed in his ambitions, the Prussian masters resisted the temptation to mix
into Polish affairs, although they could have been of great assistance to Ladislas’ enemies.

  Ladislas, in fact, relied on the Prussian masters to protect his most vulnerable lands from attack. When the Lithuanians saw that Ladislas had stripped Great Poland of knights to make war in Silesia, they attacked Kalish. This was a daringly deep raid into Poland, and unless Ladislas gave up his pretension to the crown, he had to rely on the Teutonic Order to halt another dangerous invasion. Similarly Ladislas employed the Teutonic Knights against his Brandenburg foes.

  Pomerellia Up for Grabs

  While Ladislas the Short and Henryk of Silesia were contending for the crown in the south, the dukes of Brandenburg had moved into Pomerellia again, claiming that land for themselves. In the late 1260s Duke Mestwin had sought their aid against his brother and the Teutonic Knights. The price was Mestwin becoming a vassal of the ambitious dukes. The feudal relationship, however, was rarely a quiet one. There was a quarrel in 1272, during which the Brandenburgers had occupied most of the duchy, but after failing to capture Danzig the dukes had declared themselves satisfied with a settlement that confirmed their status as Mestwin’s overlords. Later, when Mestwin willed his lands to his Piast relatives, the Brandenburg dukes were not strong enough to make valid their right to dispose of escheated lands. In 1295 Przemysł made a brief visit to Pomerellia but was able to heal only a few of the many angry feelings left by Mestwin’s quarrels with the bishops, abbots, and vassals. Przemysł’s death the following year brought renewed chaos to the north – his daughter, who inherited a claim to his lands, was married to Wenceslas II; this made the Bohemian monarch the leading candidate to be king of Poland, and Wenceslas immediately moved to occupy Cracow. Meanwhile, Leszek the Black and Ladislas the Short each raised claims to Pomerellia, and Henryk of Silesia tried to seize Great Poland. It was under these dizzying circumstances that the Swenza family rose to prominence, and it was no surprise that they recognised Wenceslas II as king and worked closely with his Brandenburg supporters, just as they did with Wenceslas III during his short reign (1305 – 6).

  There was no way for the Swenzas to foresee that in 1306 Ladislas the Short would become king, nor even to anticipate that his short visit to Pomerellia that year would be such a disaster – Ladislas, wanting to punish the Swenzas for their disloyalty (and perhaps confiscate their lands in order to pay his expenses), ordered their arrest on charges of treason. The frightened nobles appealed to Brandenburg, whose aged duke soon occupied all Pomerellia except Danzig, and in Danzig only the citadel held out. The town, with its many German merchants, surrendered without fighting.

  As the siege continued, the royalist commander at Danzig twice asked Ladislas to come to his aid, but he was told that since no rescue could be expected, he should seek aid from the Teutonic Knights. He did so. That fateful request was to mark the end of the first great era of crusading in Prussia, the era when all the enemies of paganism customarily co-operated. Nobody seems to have foreseen that the quarrel between the Prussian master and the king would endure as long as it did, but in retrospect it seems so logical that some historians have viewed the ensuing events as premeditated aggression.

  This suspicion is associated with the change in the order’s leadership. Conrad Sack retired in early 1306 on grounds of health. His last campaign had been a winter attack on Gardinas – his men had clambered over the walls under the cover of a snowstorm and had overwhelmed the sleepy garrison, but they had been unable to take the keep. His successor, the well-born Sieghard von Schwarzburg, the castellan of Culm, resigned after only a few months. The electors then chose Heinrich von Plötzke, a notable warrior who had been sent to Prussia by the grand master only a few months before.

  Master Sieghard had sent a garrison to join the embattled royalist Pomerellians in Danzig. There was nothing particularly notable about this. This action and the little that followed immediately from it were considered so insignificant at the time that the chroniclers, Peter von Dusburg and Nicholas von Jeroschin, did not interrupt their narratives to mention it. But it was an important step. From that moment on, the Teutonic Order was deeply enmeshed in the Pomerellian-Polish issues; afterward, the more Heinrich von Plötzke learned about Ladislas’ plans for Pomerellia, the less willing he was to turn the province over to him.

  The Teutonic Knights take Danzig and Pomerellia

  Heinrich von Plötzke, acting on Ladislas’ request, drove the Brandenburg forces out of Danzig in September of 1308. The citizens apparently welcomed the new occupying force at first, but became very impatient when no movement could be discerned in returning authority to royal administrators. In November the citizens staged an abortive uprising in which considerable blood was spilled – most of it belonging to the German merchants and artisans who had settled the city and made it into a mercantile centre more important than Elbing or Thorn.

  The Teutonic Knights faced an unpleasant choice after putting down the revolt – to evacuate the hostile city and give up any hope of being paid for their services, or to finish the job in such a way as to make negotiations with Ladislas easier. Heinrich chose the latter – he captured Dirschau and every other stronghold in possession of the Brandenburgers. Not long afterward he presented a bill for services rendered – 10,000 Marks. Ladislas was as lacking in money and tact as he was in stature, and he refused to pay. Also, there was an implication that he expected the order to serve him whenever he summoned it. The refusal to pay the order for its services was a mistake on Ladislas’ part that set back Polish unification for many years and brought about the fateful confrontation of Poland and the Teutonic Order that was so bothersome to him and his successors.

  Somehow the lesson of Riga, which the Teutonic Knights had made war against since 1298, was lost. Perhaps this was the result of pride. Ladislas probably could not imagine himself being treated like a mere archbishop of Riga. Perhaps, like many successful people, he had come to rely upon his remarkable luck and his demonstrated knack for escaping dangerous situations. He had not got as far as he had by deferring to powerful opponents or accepting meekly whatever happened. Like all successful Piasts, he relied on persuasion, personality, intimidation, and finally force, escalating the pressure as each stage failed to produce the desired results.

  Master Heinrich announced that he would keep Pomerellia in his possession until the matter could be settled.21 His diplomats contacted the Brandenburg dukes, who in 1309 sold their claims of sovereignty to the Teutonic Order. The price was 10,000 Marks. That was as good a claim to possess a land as most rulers had; there was, after all, no ‘ethnic identity’ to most states – one was subject to a ruler, who usually cared little what the language or ethnic background of the taxpayers or vassals was. To be sure, people were aware of ethnicity, but class status was more important. The crisis of 1307 – 10 committed the Teutonic Knights to holding Pomerellia permanently.

  This was the Prussian master’s answer to what he saw as a threat from a unified Polish kingdom. Heinrich would not allow Ladislas to misuse his knights and abuse their friendship, nor to insinuate a claim of sovereignty over them; instead, they would use the resources of West Prussia (as Pomerellia is best known in the English-speaking world) and the alliance of Brandenburg to defy him. With the taxes and warriors of West Prussia added to their own, and the supply lines to Germany guaranteed, the Teutonic Knights believed that they could defeat any Polish army sent against them. For many decades this was indeed the case.

  The action was wrong and, worse – as the proverb goes – it was a mistake. But that was true only in retrospect. At the time and for many decades thereafter the Teutonic Knights thought that the entire process had been properly handled, that it was a stroke of genius. Master Heinrich could justify the act to himself, to his membership, and to most impartial European nobles. Certainly the order had acted to the letter of the law, which was more than many rulers did in expanding their territories. This was an era when the letter of the law was thought more important than the spirit, and th
e question of national ties was usually considered irrelevant – dynasties went from country to country, and provinces were won and lost, bought and sold, without any concern for the wishes of the inhabitants. The nationalism of the times was that of the knighthood more than of any other group, and at this moment the West Prussian knights and gentry looked upon Ladislas the Short as an oppressor. By all these accepted standards, the Teutonic Knights had acted responsibly and nobly. But here was a case that was soon to be outside accepted standards. The Polish knights and nobles did not acquiesce as expected; they stood behind Ladislas and his successors in demanding the ‘return’ of a province that had been only loosely connected to the historical kingdom through most of the thirteenth century. Polish national feeling made Pomerellia a test case of patriotism, and the general anti-German feelings of the time became centred on the Teutonic Order. As West Prussia became a point of contention, neither the Polish kingdom nor the Teutonic Knights were able to deal effectively with problems on their eastern frontiers.

  Polish hostility would make it impossible for the Teutonic Knights to win the crusade against the Samogitian and Lithuanian pagans, but we might bear in mind that even if the Teutonic Knights had foreseen the long-term implications of their action, they had no good alternative to the response they made to Ladislas’ short-term challenge. Moreover, Prussia was now becoming more central to the order’s activities than before. Two decades after the loss of Acre to the Saracens, the German convents had reluctantly concluded that the chances of returning to the Holy Land were slim. They decided to concentrate their resources on supporting the perpetual crusade against the Baltic pagans.