Alexander Nevsky, Sergei Eisenstein and what really happened

This week we look at the activities of the Teutonic order in Livonia during the 13^th century. The situation in Livonia was profoundly different to Prussia and posed a number of new challenges for the brothers. In Livonia there were the powerful bishops of Riga to contend with who had led the crusade there since its inception in the 1180s. The Hanse merchants who have settled in Riga, Reval and Dorpat are no pushovers. Like in Prussia, the Lithuanians are a formidable force able to inflict painful defeats on the brothers as are some of the Baltic peoples who didn’t enjoy conversion at swordpoint as much as the planners back in Bremen, Marburg and Acre had hoped. And let’s not forget some new neighbors, the Danes in Northern Estonia and the great republic of Novgorod.

In 1240 a great effort gets under way to forcibly convert the orthodox Rus’ian states, including Novgorod that are already under pressure from the Mongols. In their distress the boyars of Novgorod make the second son of the grand duke of Vladimir becomes their military leader, a man we know as Alexander Nevsky. On April 5, 1242 Alexander Nevsky and his men stand on the shore of Lake Peipus staring at a squadron of heavily armored cavalry thundering across the ice towards them… Whilst the riders almost certainly weren’t accompanied by Prokofief’s amazing soundtrack, they may have brought an organ, but that, like everything else about the Battle on the Ice is subject to intense debate, a debate we will examine in this episode.

TRANSCRIPT

Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans Episode 132 – The Battle on the Ice – part of Season 7 “The Teutonic Knights”

First up, a happy new year to all of you. 2023 was a great time here on the History of the Germans. I learned an awful lot about the colonization of the east, the Hanse and now the Teutonic Knights and I hope you enjoyed coming along for the journey. The plan for 2024 is to obviously complete the Teutonic Knights and then revert to the broad chronological story, i.e. resume where we left off last January with the death of emperor Frederick II. We will go through the Interregnum, king Rudolf of Habsburg and then spend some time with one of the most glamorous and – outside Czechia sadly largely forgotten emperors, the Luxemburgers, Henry VII, the blind king John of Bohemia, Charles IV and Sigismund to name a few. I have given up making predictions about how long that will take, given how wrong I usually am.

One prediction I can make though is that this week we look at the activities of the Teutonic order in Livonia during the 13^th century. The situation in Livonia was profoundly different to Prussia and posed a number of new challenges for the brothers. In Livonia there were the powerful bishops of Riga to contend with who had led the crusade there since its inception in the 1180s. The Hanse merchants who have settled in Riga, Reval and Dorpat are no pushovers. Like in Prussia, the Lithuanians are a formidable force able to inflict painful defeats on the brothers as are some of the Baltic peoples who didn’t enjoy conversion at swordpoint as much as the planners back in Bremen, Marburg and Acre had hoped. And let’s not forget some new neighbors, the Danes in Northern Estonia and the great republic of Novgorod.

In 1240 a great effort gets under way to forcibly convert the orthodox Rus’ian states, including Novgorod that are already under pressure from the Mongols. In their distress the boyars of Novgorod make the second son of the grand duke of Vladimir becomes their military leader, a man we know as Alexander Nevsky. On April 5, 1242 Alexander Nevsky and his men stand on the shore of Lake Peipus staring at a squadron of heavily armored cavalry thundering across the ice towards them… Whilst the riders almost certainly weren’t accompanied by Prokofief’s amazing soundtrack, they may have brought an organ, but that, like everything else about the Battle on the Ice is subject to intense debate, a debate we will examine in this episode.

But before we start just a reminder. The History of the Germans Podcast is advertising free thanks to the generous support from patrons. And you can become a patron too and enjoy exclusive bonus episodes and other privileges from the price of a latte per month. All you have to do is sign up at patreon.com/historyofthegermans or on my website historyofthegermans.com/support. You find all the links in the show notes. And thanks a lot to Adrian V., Brett-Wayne C., Ferando M., and Austin H. who have already signed up.

Let’s start with Livonia. Livonia is the name the Teutonic Knights used for what is roughly modern day Latvia and Estonia. It was a misnomer already at the time since Livonia meant the land of the Livs, one of the various peoples that lived in the area, but by no means the only one or even the dominant one. And whilst the Prussians were all Baltic peoples speaking a language related to modern day Latvian and Lithuanian, the inhabitants of Livonia were divided into Baltic peoples, the Semigallians and Curonians to name the largest groups and the Finnic peoples, the Estonians and Livonians who speak Uralic languages related to Finnish. But that is not the only difference between Livonia and Prussia.

We did cover the crusades into Livonia up until the arrival of the Teutonic Knights in some detail in Episode 110 “The Livonian Cities” so I will limit myself to a very brief outline.

First up, the conquest had been led by the bishops and later archbishops of Riga, not by a chivalric order. The man at the centre of this crusade was Albrecht von Buxhoeveden who held the bishopric for 30 years, from 1199 to 1229. I made a terrible mistake in Episode 110 when I called him Albrecht von Buxtehude, following the lead in one of the secondary sources without double checking. Very much my bad and thanks to listener Ulrike C. who pointed this out to me.

Albrecht von Buxhoevden was an excellent organiser, networker and war leader relentlessly travelling between his new capital in Riga and Northern Germany where he was drumming up support. Apparently he did the trip 27 times. His great skill lay in recruiting wave upon wave of crusaders to come to the frozen north to convert the local pagans and then consolidating these gains during the cold winters when ice cut his new diocese off from supplies.

Like Konrad of Masovia would a few decades later, Albrecht realised quite quickly that the second part of that equation was a lot trickier than the first. Lots of men were keen to come on crusade during the years following the death of emperor Henry VI. If you remember, the empire fell into a civil war between the Hohenstaufen and the Welf that lasted for more than a decade. Many imperial noblemen were unsure which side to support. A simple way to avoid that question was to go on crusade. A crusading vow superseded all loyalty as a vassal. And even more important was that a crusader’s land was protected from any attack during his absence. Throw in the absolution for the crimes and violence already committed and going on crusade was an attractive option for many imperial knights and princes. Livonia was a more attractive destination as it was cheaper and less dangerous than the Near East where you may encounter well armed and well trained adversaries, not to mention diseases and foreign food.

The problem with crusaders was that they tended to return home as soon as their promised time on crusade was up.

To create a more stable military presence in Livonia bishop Albrecht pursued three strategies in parallel. The first one was to create his own local force by handing out fiefs to knights who were prepared to stay for good. The second was to establish his own chivalric order, the Livonian Brothers of the Sword. And he had a civil leg to his strategy too. He founded the city of Riga in 1201 and gave the Hanse merchants who settled there the city laws of Hamburg. What he did not do for reasons that I am not sure about was to bring in settlers to colonise the open countryside.

As a consequence of this, Livonia had multiple centres of power. The bishop was at least initially the most important centre. He owned 2/3rds of the land. Then there was the city of Riga that had its own rights and thanks to the trade along the Daugava river became very rich and very powerful very quickly. The vassals the bishop had given the fiefs to were broadly loyal, but like everywhere in medieval europe weren’t necessary always obedient. And there were the Livonian Sword brothers, the chivalric order Albrecht von Bornhoeved had founded.

The challenges the Livonian Swordbrothers were facing

On the one hand they were very efficient and ruthless fighters. They built a string of fortresses along the Daugava from where they could control the Semigallians who lived on the southern shore and protected the trade along the river. They also conquered territory from the Livonians and Estonians on the northern shore of the Daugava as well as expanded further East in the direction of Dorpat – modern day Tartu getting ever closer to Novgorord. There too they erected many new castles, initially in wood and as time went by, in brick. So far so good.

Problems arose because building castles and fighting the Semigallians was expensive. The Sword Brothers needed money, lots of money. The other chivalric orders like the Teutonic Knights could rely on their network of Komturs, of estates and convents back home in Western Europe sending money to cover these costs. The Livonian Sword brothers had very few estates back home in the empire. I have not found a clean description why that was, but part of it may have to do with their attachment to the bishop of Riga. If you remember the way for instance the Teutonic Knights convinced donors to support them was by giving them indulgences in return. Indulgences, just to remind you were “get out of jail free cards” that a sinner could use to wipe out whatever misbehaviour would block their entry into paradise.

The theological argument behind indulgences was that all the saints, apostles and Jesus himself had built up divine grace far in excess of what they needed to get into heaven themselves. That excess divine grace was left back on earth for the church to grant to sinners in exchange for good works. Good works could be going on crusade, paying someone else to go on crusade in one’s stead or just simply giving money or land to the church.

Now here is the rub. The person put on earth to administer this treasure of excess divine grace was the pope and the pope had shared some of it with his bishops and the religious orders, including the chivalric orders, which is why for instance the Teutonic Order could fund itself by issuing indulgences.

Now an order like the Livonian Brothers of the Sword who reported not the pope but to the bishop of Riga had only access to the excess divine grace that the bishop of Riga had at his disposal. And given the so far modest number of martyrs and mystics in Livonia, there wasn’t much indulgence to go around. Donors hence preferred to pass their wealth on to the Templars, the Knights of St. John or the Teutonic Order who had a bigger store of that valuable commodity.

That left the Sword Brothers with a limited set of options. Option 1 was the most prosaic one, trying to improve the financial position by exploiting and gathering more assets in Livonia itself. Option 2 was to try to get out from under the control of the bishop and gain direct recognition by the pope and with that access to his store of divine grace. Option 3 was to build up their own store of divine grace by performing great feats of martyrdom, something they did a lot of but it had the downside of reducing the already moderate number of sword brothers, and finally as last resort, there was option 4, joining an existing chivalric order, specifically the Teutonic Knights.

The Livonian Sword brothers tried all four options in parallel which ended up making their position even worse. They started with option 1 and squeezed their peasants harder and harder which led to a revolt in 1222 which was costly to put down. Then they pressured the bishop to grant them more of the spoils of war. So far the split was 2/3rds of all newly conquered land went to the bishop, 1/3^rd to the Sword brothers. They managed to flip that formula in their favour. But that was still not enough.

So they came up with an audacious plan. North of Livonia another great crusader, King Waldemar of Denmark had mounted an attack against the Estonians. That not only granted him the Dannebrog, the iconic Danish flag which had appeared from the heavens during a crucial battle, but also his own crusader state. That colony and its major cities, namely Reval, modern day Tallinn and Narva was thriving which made the Lithuanian sword brothers believe that it would be the solution to all their problems. So when king Waldemar was otherwise engaged (check episode 111 for details), the Sword brothers took over Estonia.

Far from being the solution to their problems, it became the source of all their woes. Bishop Albrecht had made a deal with Waldemar delineating their respective spheres of influence. The attack by the sword brothers who were nominally his men was a major embarrassment for Albrecht and threatened his position back home in Germany. The pope also did not like the idea of two Christian parties on crusade at war with each other. So the papal legate forced the Sword brothers to give Northern Estonia back to the Danes. Their master agreed and withdrew, at which point the other members of the order ousted the master, elected a new one who instantly returned them to Estonia. Now the papal legate is seriously angry and proposes to the pope to suppress the Livonian Sword Brothers. Ouch..

So, option 1 has not yet yielded much benefit and option 2 – becoming an order recognised directly by the pope- is now of the list. That leaves just two, dying a good martyrs death or joining the Teutonic Knights.

In the interest of self preservation, in 1231 master Folkwin of the Swordbrothers proposed a merger with the Teutonic Knights. Hermann von Salza sent two knights to inspect the situation in Livonia. Their advice was unambiguous. No way should we associate with this rabble. They are completely lacking in discipline and are a rough and ready lot. This verdict has been copied over and over by historians and is taken as gospel. I think it is likely that the Livonian Sword brothers, poor and desperate as they were, had to admit people with let’s say less than perfect table manners. But my money is on the emissaries getting a good sense of the complexities of Livonia and deciding that at that point with the Prussian conquest just starting, it was simply a bridge too far.

For the Livonian sword brothers things are pretty wretched by 1236. They are still short of money and the pope’s legate is going on and on about returning Estonia to the Danes.

The end of the Livonian Swordbrothers

To add to their irritation some Holstein knights show up late for the annual crusading season and demand some action and presto. We are now in that transition period where the Northern crusades go from serious military operations to some sort of medieval adventure holiday. Crusaders who come down to Livonia expect to do a sufficient amount of fighting so that they can tell their friends and family back home that they have done their bit to spread the glad tidings.

So late in the season there is no real strategic target that could be pursued, so the Livonian Brothers decided to take their guests on a short raiding and plundering jolly to Semigallia, the area south of the Daugava that’s separates Livonia from Lithuania. This was a wilderness one entered at one’s peril.

As they were hacking their way through the challenging terrain, master Volkwin of the Swordbrothers realised that they were in a bit of a pickle. A Semigallian force had appeared and was blocking a ford across the river Saule. The master ordered the knights to dismount and fight their way across on foot. Time was of the essence since pagan reinforcements might arrive during the night making the crossing almost impossible. The Holsteiners however refused to get off their horses as that would be shameful for a proud knight. The Swordbrothers were too few to go it alone and so the crusaders made camp for the night.

Next morning guess who appears alongside the Semigallians, yes it is Mindaugas, the great leader of the Lithuanians with a large army. The proud Holstein Knights now mount their horses only to experience an unscheduled dismounting courtesy of the Lithuanians followed by a heroic knightly death in the mud of the River Saule. As do the master of the Sword brothers and almost half of the total force of that order.

Now they may have enough martyrs to issue indulgences, but militarily they are finished. They send two knights to pope Honorius III to beg for help. Honorius tells them to kneel, releases them from their vows as Livonian sword brothers, and made them swear the oath of the Teutonic knight, gives them the iconic white mantle with the black cross and with that the Livonian sword brothers no longer exit but are subsumed into the Teutonic Knights.

Hermann von Salza sends his best man, Hermann Balk, the man who had masterminded the first leg of the conquest of Prussia to Livonia to sort it all out. Balk arrives with 60 Teutonic Knight brothers and their retinue, enough to garrison the main castles. He withdraws the Swordbrothers from Northern Estonia and hands it back to the Danes. Now money comes into the chivalric order in Livonia from the vast holdings of the Teutonic Knights in the west. The new garrisons keep the Semigallians and Lithuanians in check and Hermann Balk can start reorganising the Livonian sword brothers

Unsurprisingly many of the Livonian Sword Brothers are upset about the takeover and the abandonment of Estonia. Balk sends the most vocal ones to Palestine, where some of them defect to the Templars. The rest are split up and posted to remote castles well out of the way. Hermann Balk retired in 1238 and passes the baton as Livonian master on to Dietrich von Gruningen.

All good now? Well, not really. The resentment of the remaining sword brothers keeps rumbling below the surface.

The Battle on The Ice

And another, much broader conflict is about to engulf the fragile Livonian colony. And that had to do with Constantinople. In 1204 the fourth crusade had conquered Constantinople and had replaced the Orthodox emperor with a catholic one. In the mind of the popes we are now half way to reunification of the two great Christian churches, the Catholics in the West and the Orthodox in the east under the bishop of Rome. Orthodox Christianity had expanded from Constantinople north and eastwards and had been adopted by amongst others the empire of the Kyivan Rus.  That empire had broken apart into a number of smallish principalities which by 1239 had largely been overrun by the Mongols.

As far as the papacy was concerned, this was certainly a sad thing for the Rus’ians but also a great opportunity. The catholic church offered the various remaining princes support against their Mongol overlords in exchange for conversion from Orthodoxy to Rome. Some took it like Danyl of Galicia, who ruled over what is today western Ukraine. The largest and most attractive of the successor states of the Kievan Rus was Novgorod. If a conversion could be affected there, the political power of the Orthodox faith would be reduced to just some vassals of the Mongols and the Byzantine rebel states that had emerged in the wake of the sack of Constantinople in 1204.

The idea of making Novgorod part of western Christianity did resonate well with some of the expansionist powers along the Baltic. After all the great trading centre of Novgorod was probably the richest city between Lubeck and the North Pole.

The Swedes were particularly ambitious. They marched down the Finnish coast and blocked the mouth of the Neva River. Listeners to the Hanseatic league season will know that the Neva, where modern day Saint Petersburg stands now was at the time the entry point for Baltic merchants going to Novgorod. Closing this vital artery cut Novgorod from not only its main source of money but also from imported salt needed to preserve its food.

Novgorod at the time was a Boyar republic meaning that the leading families would administer the city. Most of the time the city acknowledged a feudal prince as its overlord, usually whichever Rurik prince was most powerful in the region. In 1236 the chosen prince was Alexander Yaroslavich, second son of the grand prince of Vladimir. This Alexander recruited an army to confront the Swedes and on July 15^th defeated them on the Neva river. The Swedish force withdrew and the shipping route reopened for trade. The success was so unexpected and complete that Alexander got two things. For one he received the sobriquet Nevsky by which we still now him today, Alexander Nevsky. And he was immediately exiled from the city of Novgorod. Seriously who wants a war hero swanning about in a boyar republic.

Up until this point all that I have said is largely consensual, though some argue the Mongols played a lesser role in the papal plans and that coordination lay with the papal legate in Livonia.

Everything that I tell you from this point forward is my best guess based on the various accounts I have read, which in turn is only a small section of the libraries and libraries written on the subject. And that subject – you may have guessed – is the famous Battle on the Ice, made immortal by Sergej Eisenstein’s epic 1938 movie.

We have two sources for all this, one being the Novgorod chronicle reflecting the perspective of the rulers of Novgorod and the Livonian Rhymed chronicle written by an unnamed member of the Teutonic order.  Both have been written not long after the events described making them both valid sources. The problem is that they do not quite match sparking endless debates.

Here is what I think happened. Parallel to the Swedish effort and maybe or maybe not coordinated by the papal legate William of St. Sabina another crusade set off from Livonia in the direction of Novgorod. Participants in this crusade were crusaders from western europe, likely the Empire and Poland, local Estonian auxiliaries and some Teutonic Knights. Whether these were former Livonian sword brothers operating against instruction by the Livonian master or actual Teutonic Knights operating under the auspices of an agreement between the order, the Danish king and the papal legate is heavily disputed, as is the question how many there were and who was in charge of the operation.  

What is not disputed was that this push was successful. The crusader army drove into Novgorod territory and got as far as within 20 miles of the city itself, raided and plundered in the hope of reducing its food supplies. They also managed to place a friendly new governor into the city of Pskov which lies south of Novgorod.

At that point the aristocrats ruling Novgorod became more concerned about the invaders than about a military commander becoming an autocrat in their city and hence recalled Alexander Nevsky. They I am sure apologised profusely for last year’s decision to exile him and offered him god knows what if only he would defeat these westerners.

In autumn 1241 Alexander Nevsky led his troops against the forts the invaders had erected east of Narva and drove them out. Then he moved southwards towards Pskov and took it, again without much difficulty. The Livonian Rhyme chronicle said that the garrison consisted of just 2 brothers and their retinue, in total maybe 30 men making that conquest a little less heroic than it appeared.

After some raiding in Livonian territory, Nevsky then led his army to lake Peipus, a large inland water that still today marks the border between Estonia and Russia. It is April the 5^th in the Julian calendar, the 12^th in ours, still fairly cold and the lake is still frozen.

Nevsky arrives on the shore of Lake Peipus with an army usually estimated at about 6,000 men, mostly professional soldiers from Novgorod. On the opposite shore the crusader army is gathered. They are often estimated at 2,000 men led by the bishop of Dorpat, Hermann von Boxhoeved, a brother of bishop Albrecht of Riga. They comprise roughly 1,000 Estonian auxiliaries whilst the rest is split into Danish knights, crusaders and Teutonic Knights, at least some of them former Livonian Swordbrothers.

The battle begins with that famous charge across the ice that is one of the most captivating moments of Sergej Eisenstein’s famous movie. As usual in medieval cavalry charges the idea is to break the centre of the enemy by fear and momentum and drive them to flight. If that fails battles turn into hand to hand combat until one or other side gives up exhausted. And so it happened here too. The centre of Alexander Nevsky’s army held and the crusaders were forced into combat on the slippery surface of lake Peipus. The Novgorod chronicle reports that there was a “great slaughter of Germans and Estonians” after which the remains of the army fled. Nevsky’s men caught up with them 7 km from the Estonian shore and surrounded them where according to the chronicle of Novgorod “fell a countless number of Estonians and 400 of the Germans.” The Knights own chronicler seems to have very different numbers. He says that quote “then the brother’s army was completely surrounded, for the Russians had had so many troops that there were easily sixty men for every German knight. The brothers fought well enough, but they were nonetheless cut down. Some of those from Dorpat escaped..20 brothers lay dead and six were captured” end quote.

This discrepancy between the chronicles has caused endless debates about the scale and significance of the defeat. Sure the numbers look far apart, 20 brothers according to the German chronicle and 400 in the Russian telling. But there is a way to reconcile those. When we talk about the Teutonic Knights forces, each knight would usually have about 10 additional fighters with them, some squires helping the knight, other acting as infantry covering the rider. So 20 dead brothers would equate to 200 dead men from the Teutonic Order. If you then take into account that there were also Danish knights and other crusaders on the field that the Russians counted as Germans, an estimated loss of 400 “Germans” in inverted commas seems reasonable.

Death toll in battle is one thing, but the even bigger dispute is about the significance of the battle. In Russia the anniversary of the Battle on the Ice is one of the 20 days of military honour commemorating major military successes. In other words the Russians believe this event to be of a significance on par with the victory over Napoleon at Borodino in 1812 and over Nazi Germany at Stalingrad. In the Russian narrative this was the moment that stopped the attack on the orthodox faith and in consequence on Russian culture. If we assume that the attack on Novgorod was at least in part aimed at converting them to Roman Catholicism, there is certain logic here. This the same logic that has elevated the equally modestly sized battle of Tours in 732 to the decisive moment where western europe refuted the imposition of Islam.

If you take the view that the papal involvement in the planning was modest and the main aim of the effort to be simple plunder, then the battle could be classed as just another border skirmish, maybe a larger than usual one, but in the end a border skirmish.

In either case, the battle had no material military consequences. Nevsky did not pursue the crusaders into Livonia. The two sides signed an agreement in 1243 guaranteeing the old borders from before 1240 and these borders held for at least a century.

And what is also true is that Sergej Eisenstein’s movie explains more about Soviet views of Nazi Germany in 1938 than it does about medieval warfare. The Teutonic Knights despite their undeniable brutality weren’t gigantic blonde proto nazis who burned babies, nor were the Estonian and Latvians enslaved little people as the film suggests or were the Russian forces pre-Lenin communist peasants. The Livonian master was not in the battle  and he was not taken prisoner. Alexander Nevsky did not stand up to the Mongols, au contraire he became one of their loyal vassals. Here is also no mention in either Russian or German sources that the heavily armoured Teutonic Knights and their huge warhorses broke through the ice to die a cold and miserable death. The ice there is strong enough to carry a man on horseback, and if you do not believe it google Lake Peipus trucks.

Still the film is a masterpiece and Prokofiev score underlying the attack of the Teutonic Knights is a most haunting experience. Therefore , when you watch it you can understand that one of the conditions in the Hitler Stalin pact was to shelve the film.

Another reason why hostilities between Livonia and Novgorod never resumed in earnest was that one of the main constituencies in Livonia was fundamentally opposed to such a venture, the merchants of Riga, Reval, Dorpat and Narva  who all traded extensively with Novgorod where they maintained the Hanse Kontor. They transported their wares across the rivers and roads on which such a campaign would be fought. And other than in Prussia the merchants in Livonia were powerful and independent.

After the Battle on the Ice the military powers in Livonia, i.e., the bishop of Riga and the Teutonic Order could return to the job at hand, converting the locals to Christianity. One thing that helped the crusaders was that the different peoples in Livonia were even more disunited than the Prussians. The knight brothers could muster fairly large forces by recruiting the archenemies of whichever group they were attacking at any particular point. Semigallians against Curonians, Livonians against Estonians and so forth. The flipside of these arrangement was that the peace agreement octroyed on the defeated party were usually quite mild. The demands were usually an at least formal conversion, a ban on pagan customs like polygamy and the rather cruel tradition of infanticide of girls, the imposition of taxes and tithes and other more generic legal rules. In return they would be recognised as free men on their own land and their leaders co-opted into the Christian aristocracy.

Part of the reason this system was introduced must have to do with the fact that there was no large colonisation programs for the open countryside as had been introduced in Prussia and before in the Burzenland. Why that did not happen I am not sure. Maybe it was just a bit too far north, even for intrepid colonists or the land was not sufficiently fertile to sustain another population alongside the existing peoples. The only immigration by German speaking peoples was into the cities, and that included the cities that were under Danish control, namely Reval and Narva.  

This policy found its high point in 1252 when the grand duke of Lithuania, the great Mindaugas accepted Roman Catholicism and was crowned as king of Lithuania by a German bishop and in the presence of the Livonian master. That plus a broadly favourable modus operandi with the Danish administration of Estonia meant the province now seemed all at ease. Business was flourishing and the Teutonic Knights could entertain their Crusader guests with regular raids into some parts of Semigallia or Curonia that had no yet sufficiently embraced the new religion.

The system collapsed in 1259 when Mindaugas patience ran out. We already talked about the battle of Durbe last week, so I will not repeat the story. But the net effect was the same in Livonia as it had been in Prussia. Within a short period of time the order found itself pushed back into its core positions, the main forts along the Daugava and in Southern Estonia.

What made things even more difficult than in Prussia was that the Bishop, now archbishop of Riga regarded the knight brothers as much more threatening than the pagans. The bishop formed an alliance with the now pagan Lithuanians against the order and hired a German adventurer, Gunzelin von Schwerin to lead his armies.

I will spare you the detail of the process but just imagine a repeat of what we had last week, just worse. The net result too was similar. Riga fell and Gunzelin fled back home. With the help of crusaders the open countryside north of the Daugava was cleared of rebels. The land south of the Daugava was turned into a buffer zone, an uninhabited wilderness. The Semigallians and Selonians who survived the conflict went into exile in Lithuania. The Curonians were indeed defeated and a line of forts and castles protected the core of Livonia and the trade along the Daugava.

As for Estonia, they had a quieter time apart from an attack from Novgorod that again was probably less significant than chroniclers made it out. The province was technically part of the Danish kingdom, but the actual power of the Danish monarch extended not much beyond the walls of the big cities, Reval and Narva. In the countryside they left the administration to the Danes who had now formed their own aristocracy and the Teutonic Knights. As absentee landlords their interest dwindled to the point that in 1365 the Danish king sold its holdings to the Teutonic knights for 10,000 mark of silver.

By the last decade of the 13^th century the Teutonic Order was the undisputed power in Prussia and the dominant force in Livonia. This hard won success was however not mirrored in the lands the order was initially set up to defend for Christendom, the Holy Land. Their main fortress, the Starkenburg, north east of Haifa had been besieged first in 1266 and then in 1271, when it fell to the Mamluks. After that debacle the grand master relocated the order’s headquarters from Acre to Venice. Acre fell in 1291 which ended the crusader sate in Palestine. The order continued in Venice for a little longer but in 1309 when no new crusading effort in Palestina seemed likely, the grand master relocated to Prussia, to the magnificent castle of Marienburg.

Next time we will talk about what is often described as the golden age of the Teutonic Knights when they ran one of the most stringently organised polities in medieval europe, excelled both as politicians and merchants as well as organisers of the greatest chivalric adventure holidays that attracted counts, princes and even a future king of England. I hope you will join us again.

Bibliography

Eric Christiansen: The Nordic Crusades, Penguin Books, 1997

Klaus Militzer: Die Geschichte des deutsche Ordens, 2.Aufl, 2012

Jurgen Sarnowsky: der Deutsche Orden, 2.Aufl, 2012

A History of the Teutonic Knights in Prussia 1190-1331: The Kronike Von Pruzinlant by Nicolaus Von Jeroschin