Vanished Kingdoms

by Norman Davies

  Nonetheless, the Kalingrad enclave remains a place of tangible unease. Some still blame external threats. ‘Russia is like a wolf,’ one Kaliningrader has said enigmatically, ‘a wolf that has been trapped by hunters.’22 So far no one has caught sight of the hunters; others underline internal shortcomings. On 2 February 2010 tens if not hundreds of thousands of protesters gathered in central Kaliningrad to demand the removal not only of Governor Boos but also of Vladimir Putin. The placards targeted Putin’s YedRo or ‘United Russia’ Party; ‘Partiya YedRo’, the jingle read, ‘pomoinoye vyedro’ (‘United Russia [is] a bucket of filth’).23 The Kremlin ordered a high-level inquiry, but fresh demonstrations broke out exactly six months later. This time Governor Boos was immediately fired, and replaced by the local YedRo Secretary, Nikolay Tsukanov. Suddenly the air was thick again with ambitious plans. Visions of the Baltic Hong Kong resurfaced as the federal government proposed yet another ‘new economic status’ for the enclave. Governor Tsukanov proposed his home town of Gusev as a centre of expansion parallel to Kaliningrad. The Regional Development Agency announced multi-billion-rouble grants to accelerate stalled projects for a new seaport and a nuclear power station.24 Even the outlook for gay tourism was explored. Then, as if to go back to basics, a Russo-German scheme was unveiled at Zeleniogorsk to prepare an Open Air Museum of the Ancient Prussians.25

  II

  One thousand, two thousand years ago, the land that lies on the southern shore of Europe’s second inland sea was virtually terra incognita. If it was known beyond its own shores at all, it was as the ‘Amber Coast’, the source of the shimmering translucent gold-brown stones which were highly prized for jewellery in the ancient world. The native tribes who lived in the dark forests of the Baltic coastland had few contacts with outsiders. They lived from fishing, hunting and raiding their neighbours. They called themselves Prusai, or Pruzzi – a name that has been traced to an Indo-European root connected with water. Since they would have identified themselves above all with their natural surroundings, there is some basis for thinking of them as the ‘Water Tribes’ or the ‘Lakeland Folk’, or possibly, through the striking configuration of their coastline, as the ‘People of the Lagoons’.26

  The Prusai thrived untouched by civilization until the thirteenth century AD. They were pagan, illiterate, pre-agricultural and, in the eyes of their neighbours, primitive predators. All the great events of early European history passed them by. Hoards of Roman coins, deriving no doubt from the amber trade, indicate that they must have been aware of the wider world,27 yet the Roman Empire rose and declined without altering their way of life. The invading Asiatic nomads rode across the open plains to the south, and the westward passage of Germanic, and later of Slavic tribes, did not penetrate their homeland. The empire of Charlemagne and his successors never reached them; nor did the religion of the Nazarenes, which gradually overtook the north European mainland in the tenth century and Scandinavia in the twelfth.

  Apart from occasional and ambiguous references by early geographers, the first event to bring the Prusai into the historical record occurred in 997. In that year the Czech Prince Vojtech of Prague, a missionary bishop, took ship in the Vistula delta intending to convert them. Instead, he was murdered by his prospective flock. A search party ransomed his body, and brought it back as a holy relic to the newly founded Polish cathedral of Gniezno. Vojtech was better known by his baptismal name of Adalbert, and as St Adalbert of Prussia he was destined to become the heavenly patron of the land which had rejected him.28

  The Prusai formed the westernmost grouping within a larger collection of Baltic peoples, including the Lithuanians and Latvians and who spoke related languages and followed similarly traditional ways of life. The names of their constituent tribes were recorded in Latin forms by the Catholic monks who first accumulated knowledge of the region. Already in the ninth century, the so-called Bavarian Geographer* had recorded the Latin name of Borussia – that is, the land of the Prusai – from which all modern variants of the country’s name are derived: Prussia (Latin and English), Preussen (German), Prusse (French) and Prusy (Polish). Five hundred years later, when the conquest of Borussia by Christian knights was in progress, the priest Peter Dusberger compiled a much fuller list of tribes. Among the Balto-Prussian ethnic group, he noted the Varmians, the Pomesanians, the Natangians, the Sambians, the Skalovians, the Nadruvians, the Bartians, the Sudovians and the Galindians. Each of them possessed their own territory within the expanse lying between the Vistula and Nemanus (Nieman) rivers. The first six on the list were settled on the coast, the others in the interior. There may have been others.

  The geography of Borussia added greatly to its isolation. The coastal strip was bordered by a string of maritime lagoons, which had formed behind long sandy spits and which obstructed easy access to the rivers. The interior consisted largely of the vast lines of morainic stones which marked the stages of retreat of the last northern ice cap. The result was a tangle of fantastically shaped lakes interspersed by winding chains of pine-covered heights. There were no straightforward routes or trails, no safe refuges for intruders. Most of the ground was unsuitable for growing crops. The temptation to mount cattle-raids into the open country beyond the lakes, and to seize the produce of foreign barns, was great.

  By the thirteenth century, however, the Prusai were effectively surrounded on all sides. The area to the west beyond the Vistula had been settled by Western Slavs, notably by the Kashubs, who formed part of the Duchy of Pomerania. To the south lay the Polish Duchy of Mazovia, centred on Warsaw, which during ‘the era of fragmentation’, was enjoying a state of semi-independence. To the east, beyond the Nieman, other Baltic groupings were embarking on adventures of their own that would lead to the states of Livonia and of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.

  The principal motor of change in East Central Europe in that era was the arrival of the Mongol Horde. Streaming out of the Asian steppes, the Mongols destroyed Moscow in 1238, before wreaking death and pillage through what is now southern Poland and Hungary. The resultant insecurity encouraged two developments. One was the establishment of crusading orders to strengthen Christendom’s eastern borders. The other was the mobilization of German colonists to repopulate the devastated districts.

  In its previous phase, Germanic colonization did not affect Borussia. After 1180, when the Slavonic duke of Pomerania, Boguslav III, had sworn fealty to the Holy Roman Empire, settlers from the latter crossed the River Oder and edged along the Pomeranian coast. After 1204, when one of the military orders, the Knights of the Sword (see p. 270n.), established a base at Riga in Livonia and when the Danes built their fort at Tallinn in Estonia, the Northern Crusades* were underway.29 But the Prusai, sandwiched between the advancing colonists on one side and the warring crusaders on the other, remained unscathed.

  Such was the situation in the 1220s, when Conrad, duke of Mazovia, lost patience with the perpetual raiding of the Prusai. Earlier attempts to subdue them with the help a minor Polish crusading order, the Knights of Dobrzyn, had failed, so in exchange for a grant in fief of the district of Chełmno (Kulmerland) the duke called in an outfit of far greater capacity, inviting the Knights of the Teutonic Order to use their fief as a base for containing the Prusai. From what was said later, it seems Conrad envisaged nothing more than a local and limited operation. He would certainly not have anticipated that his guests would soon grow far more powerful than himself.30

  The ‘Order of the Brothers of the Teutonic House of the Virgin Mary in Jerusalem’ had been founded in the previous century as one of several military organizations spawned by the crusader states of Outremer in the Holy Land devoted to converting ‘infidels’. It thrived through control of the port of Acre, but after the Saracen reconquest of Jerusalem in 1187 its knights increasingly gained a living as mercenaries in Greece, in Spain and then in Hungary. Yet its essential ethos and ambitions remained intact. The Teutonic Knights were looking for projects that would sustain a way of life devoted to fighting i
nfidels but free from Europe’s feudal hierarchies.31

  The key figure in their schemes was Hermann von Salza (c. 1179–1239), who ruled the Order for thirty years as grand master, and who possessed connections both at the imperial court and at the Vatican. This was the time when the emperor, Frederick II of Hohenstaufen (r. 1215–50), held sway in Sicily, and when his wars with the Papal States led to his excommunication (see p. 192). Von Salza, whose career began as a knight in the Hohenstaufen entourage, acted as mediator in their disputes, and his familiarity with successive popes gave him a position which he exploited to great advantage. In essence, he contrived to place the Knights under direct papal patronage, and thereby to secure immunity from unconditional loyalty to the various secular rulers in whose lands they operated. The strategy failed in Hungary, whence the Order was expelled in 1225. In Mazovia, it worked to perfection.

  Apart from anything else, Grand Master von Salza was an expert in legal trickery. Each stage of his scheming was supported by fine-sounding documents which gave the Order important rights without corresponding obligations. In 1226, the emperor’s Golden Bull of Rimini stated that the duke of Mazovia should equip the Order to fight the pagans, and that the conquered territory should be Reichsfrei, that is, beyond imperial jurisdiction. In 1230 the Treaty of Kruszwica, supposedly signed both by the Order and by the duke but leaving no later documentary trace, stated that Kulmerland was to be held by the Order in fief from Mazovia. In 1234, the self-contradictory Golden Bull of Rieti of Pope Gregory IX confirmed these arrangements, while also subjecting the Order exclusively to papal authority. Thus, having secured their foothold, the Knights felt that they possessed legal immunity. Any protests by the duke of Mazovia could be ignored. The emperor and the pope were far away, and the throne of Poland was vacant.

  Within a short time, the Teutonic Order created a socio-military machine that could sustain unbroken campaigns of conquest and that turned the frontline in Borussia into the scene of non-stop operations. Both the Order of Dobrzyn and the Order of the Sword were absorbed into it, providing a pool of knights to support a regular army. Recruits appeared from all over Christendom, attracted by the adventure of combat and the lust for land. Peasant colonists, mainly Germans and Flemings, were imported on favourable terms to work the land and to ease the manpower problem. Towns were built, marshes drained, trails cut through the wilderness and trade routes opened up. The amber monopoly was appropriated, taxes collected, troops raised, trained and paid, and the war against the infidels incessantly pursued. The killing, burning and deportation of the native Prusai was pursued in the name of the Faith, and the ‘Black Knights’, who wore a white cloak emblazoned with the black cross, assumed the divine mantle. They and their dependants spoke German, and it was among them that the name of Preussen gained currency.

  The political organization of the Ordensstaat, as it came to be known – the State of the Teutonic Order – was built up in the course of the conquest. To begin with, its headquarters remained in Acre, but then moved to Venice; it did not come to Borussia until 1309. The grand masters were chosen by the Brother-Knights through an electoral committee. Once confirmed by the pope, they served both as commander-in-chief and as chief executive, appointing the subordinate Landmeisters, the provincial governors, and Komturs, the district commanders. Altogether, during the 327 years of the Order’s existence in its medieval form, thirty-five grand masters held office for an average of nine years each. The first of von Salza’s successors was Conrad of Thuringia (1239–40), and the last Albrecht von Hohenzollern (1510–25). The longest serving grand master was Winrich von Kniprode, from 1351 to 1382.

  The conquest of Borussia proceeded over six decades, and was formally completed in 1283. Unfortunately, since the Prusai left no records, the story has only been told from the Order’s perspective. The chief source is the four-volume Chronicon Terrae Prussiae, composed by Peter Dusberger half a century later, probably in Königsberg. Peter saw the Order’s work as a sacred mission, and his Brother-Knights who died in battle assured of a place in Heaven. The pagans, he acknowledged, were also to be admired for their unwavering devotion to their misguided beliefs. Many Christians, he laments, could learn from their example.32

  There can be no doubt that these Northern Crusades were contested with great ferocity on both sides. It was said that captured knights were roasted alive inside their armour. The Prusai, if they resisted conversion, could expect no better. All forms of violence and cruelty were justified. Captives were routinely tortured, settlements systematically razed, and survivors of both sexes were forced into slavery, from which baptism was the only exit. Their huts and homes were cleared to make way for incoming colonists. Large numbers were deported to reservations; others fled to neighbouring Lithuania. Thus did ‘Western Civilization’ advance.

  The Livonian Rhymed Chronicle,* written in the late thirteenth century, described the initial offensive:

  Being on a peninsula, the land is almost surrounded by the wild seas… No army had ever invaded there, and on the [seaward] side no one can fight against it because a wild stream, wide and deep, flows along it… A narrow strip extends towards [Lithuania] and there the Christians came with their stately army. The Christians rejoiced. They found the great forest of the Samites there… [made] of trees so large that they served as a bulwark… The Christians… vowed not to rest till it had been cut in two… Then, when they had… slashed through the forest, the army advanced directly into the land. The Samites learned that they were visited by guests who wished to do them harm.33

  On that occasion, the crusaders had fallen into a trap. Deep in the wilderness, they were ambushed and annihilated.

  As the crusaders progressed, they planted many fortified towns and castles in the wilderness. Elbing, Thorn, Allenstein and Marienwerder were all Teutonic foundations. Königsberg (‘King’s Mountain’) was founded in 1255 on a site sacred to the Prusai called Tvangste. It was named in honour of King Ottakar II of Bohemia, who had participated in the fighting personally. But nothing rivalled the size and grandeur of the Marienburg, the ‘Fortress of the Virgin’, erected from 1274 on the banks of the River Nogat. Four times larger than the royal castle of the English kings at Windsor, it was almost certainly the biggest medieval castle in Europe, and could be approached from the sea. Its vast walls, soaring towers and bristling battlements exude a sense of triumph and permanence. When completed in the early fourteenth century, it became the seat of the Order. By then, the land of the Prusai had been subdued, and the new country of Preussen established.34

  The advance of the Teutonic Order naturally went hand in hand with the power of the Roman Catholic Church which had blessed its activities. The first, missionary, bishop of Borussia, Christian of Oliva (d. 1245), was a Cistercian monk with Polish connections who had worked with the Order of Dobrzyn. But the Teutonic Knights preferred the Dominicans, and in the 1330s, when Bishop Christian was being held for ransom by the Prusai, they made fresh arrangements. A papal legate arrived to mediate, and in 1243 he divided the country into four dioceses: Chełmno, Pomesania, Varmia and Sambia. He placed the new church province under the archbishop of Riga.

  Kulmerland had formed the northern border of the Polish Duchy of Mazovia, and contained the towns of Kulm (Chełmno), Thorn (Toruń), Graudenz (Grudzia˛dz) and Płock. The castle at Dobrzyn had belonged to the eponymous knightly order. Once the lakeland area to the north was cleared of its native inhabitants, it was settled by Polish colonists from Mazovia known as Mazurs, thereby receiving its name of Mazury (Mazuria/Masuren). According to later folklore, Pomesania enshrined the name of Pomeso, son of a legendary king, Vudevuto. It occupied the maritime district to the east of the Vistula. Its principal town Elbing (Elbla˛g) replaced the former port of the Prusai at Truso. Varmia or Emeland was the homeland of a Baltic tribe descended from a legendary chieftain, Varmo. It became the seat of a powerful line of bishops, prince-bishops and, eventually, archbishops. The first of the bishops never assumed office, but the
second and third, Anselm von Meisser and Heinrich Fleming, ruled the see until the turn of the fourteenth century. Their cathedral was built at Frauenburg (Frombork), which in 1310 became the first Prussian city to be incorporated, as was common in the Baltic according to the Law of Lübeck. In due course, Frauenburg would become the home of its cathedral’s canon-astronomer, Nicholas Copernicus.35 Sambia or Samland remained beyond the control of the Teutonic Order until the 1250s. It consisted largely of the maritime peninsula which separates the two principal coastal lagoons – subsequently known as the Frisches Haff and the Kurisches Haff. The city of Königsberg was surrounded by countryside in which the native Old Prussian language persisted long after being suppressed elsewhere.

  The most easterly parts of Borussia were not conquered until the early 1280s. The key moment came with the fall of the island fortress within the ‘Salmon Lake’ of Ełk. German settlers renamed the fortress ‘Lyck’, and the Poles ‘Łe˛g’. But the salmon motif was not forgotten. Nearly 700 years later, when another population transfer took place, the Old Prussian name of Ełk was restored and a salmon reappeared in the town’s coat of arms.36

  Despite the neglect with which the heritage of the Prusai was once treated, enough remnants of their language, Prusiskan, have survived for it to be reconstructed by modern scholars. It is classified as ‘Old Prussian’ to distinguish it from various Germanic dialects, such as Low Prussian, which developed in the province subsequently. It is one of the oldest known forms of Indo-European, and is closest to modern Latvian.37

  Old Prussian was written down in the Latin alphabet from the thirteenth century onwards. The so-called Basel Epigram, which was probably inscribed in the margin of another manuscript by an educated Prussian sent to study in Prague, reads: ‘Kayle rekyse, thoneaw labonache theywelyse. Eg koyte, poyte, nykoyte, penega doyte.’ This has been rendered as: ‘Hello, sir! You are no longer a kind uncle, if you want to drink yourself but don’t give a penny to others.’ The so-called Elbing Vocabulary, dating from c. 1400, records 802 words in their German and Old Prussian versions, and a fifteenth-century fragment records the first line of the paternoster: ‘Towe Nüsze kas esse andangensün swyntins.’ By far the fullest texts are to be found in three catechisms printed in Königsberg in 1545–61 in the hope of converting the last surviving Prusai to Protestantism.38