Three components that make a territory in the HRE successful

The counts, dukes and ultimately kings of Württemberg had risen to the top by winning the genetic lottery. Their eldest sons tended to be competent, some even extremely so, their wives brought in dowries and sometimes entire counties, and they ruled for long enough that the next generation took over when they were ready.

But all that falls apart in the 15th century. They are suddenly afflicted with the disease of dynasties; states being inherited by babies and buffoons, some of them managing to be both. That would normally be the death nail for a noble House, but not this time.

The Landtag, the Estates of Württemberg step in to protect the fledgling state, deposing buffoons when necessary and ruling on behalf of the babies. This is one of the lesser known and even more extraordinary political histories in europe and well worth listening to.

And as a bonus we also investigate why the region around Stuttgart, Mannheim, Karlsruhe and Freiburg has become a hub of technology and precision engineering, an area where there was no coal, no mining or any other natural advantage – except for the wine – no seriously, it was the wine.

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Transcript

Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 192: Württemberg, or How to Build a Success, which is also episode 8 of season 10 – the Empire in the 15th Century

The counts, dukes and ultimately kings of Württemberg had risen to the top by winning the genetic lottery. Their eldest sons tended to be competent, some even extremely so, their wives brought in dowries and sometimes entire counties, and they ruled for long enough that the next generation took over when they were ready.

But all that falls apart in the 15th century. They are suddenly afflicted with the disease of dynasties; states being inherited by babies and buffoons, some of them managing to be both. That would normally be the death nail for a noble House, but not this time.

The Landtag, the Estates of Württemberg step in to protect the fledgling state, deposing buffoons when necessary and ruling on behalf of the babies. This is one of the lesser known and even more extraordinary political histories in europe and well worth listening to.

And as a bonus we also investigate why the region around Stuttgart, Mannheim, Karlsruhe and Freiburg has become a hub of technology and precision engineering, an area where there was no coal, no mining or any other natural advantage – except for the wine – no seriously, it was the wine.

But before we start let me uncork a Nebuchadnezzar of gratitude for all the patrons who keep this show on the road by signing up on historyoftyhegermans.com/support. And specifically I want to thank: Christian Wencel, Carrie, Jakob of the CrookedShade with a big apology for the delayed response to his super-nice message, Andreas, Lin, Stuart Eaves and Kurt who have already signed up.

And then I wanted to point you to another independent history podcast. Daniele Bolelli’s History on Fire has been around for neigh on a decade but has not lost its footing. Daniele is a university professor, so everything is meticulously researched and sourced. And then there is the drama! He looks for the places where history and epic collide, there is always a lot of passion, humor and immersive storytelling, with a sprinkle of martial arts. His recent episodes are about D’Annunzio in Fiume and it made me hold my breath. The show is History on Fire, and you find it where you have found this show.  

And with that, back to the History of the Germans.

Last week we did not get very far on our journey upriver on the Rhine. We went from Heidelberg via Mannheim to Karlsruhe and Baden-Baden. We passed Speyer without a glance at the largest Romanesque church in the world, but then we had given it almost an entire episode in July 2021, that was episode 25 – Konrad II and the Construction of an Empire.

Since we have quite a long journey ahead, we will not spend time climbing up to the castle of Hohenbaden – destroyed by the French – or investigating the remains of Baden’s Roman baths. Instead, we head straight down south. As we get slowly pulled upriver, we can already see in the distance one of the tallest buildings in Europe, the cathedral of Strasburg. The one tower we can see stretching to 142 meters had only just been completed. As of right now, i.e., the year 1454, this is not the tallest tower in Christendom. That would be Lincoln cathedral, and when that collapsed in 1549, it was St. Mary’s in Stralsund, which fell in 1647, leaving this solitary tower as the tallest thing on earth, until in 1847 Hamburg built St. Nikolai, followed by Rouen, Cologne, the Washington Monument, the Eiffel tower and so forth and so forth until the Burj Khalifa in Dubai.

Strasburg was by far the foremost economic hub of the area, a key element in the wine trade shipping barrels to England, Scandinavia and even Poland and Russia. It was the place Gutenberg went to make his millions from pilgrim’s mirrors and soon one of the largest centers of printing and publishing in Europe.  Nearby Colmar too was a great trading city and its Unterlinden Museum still holds some of the most magnificent late medieval, early renaissance paintings you will ever see. And in case you are planning your summer holiday, the food is beyond divine.

But that is well known. What is a lot less well known is that the food on the other, the German side of the river is a least as good. Just 60km east from Strasbourg cathedral lies Baiersbronn, a small town of 15,000 souls that can boast two 3 Michelin star restaurants, one 2 star, and in the surrounding area another 4 one- star places, and then much more important, 4 Bib Gourmands. That is more than Chicago. If you do not know what a Bib Gourmand is, look it up, it will change your life for the better.

Given that few restaurant guides have made it down from the 15th century, we do not know where our hungry crew would have gone, but almost certainly the food had been heavenly even then. This is the warmest and most fertile part of modern-day Germany, and, if you add in Alsace, probably the agriculturally richest part of Northern Europe. And as such it was able to sustain fairly small political structures that in other areas would have been subsumed by larger neighbors. We talked about the 101 members of the Schwäbischer Reichskreis last week. Many of these were located in the upper Rhine area, the Black Forest and north of Lake Constance. Where we are now are the lands of the bishops of Strasburg, one of the larger and richer bishoprics, the cities of Strasburg, Offenburg, Colmar, Freiburg and Basel, as well as various counts, abbots and knights.

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The big power looming over all of them was the House of Habsburg whose ancestral home is not far in the Aargau in modern day Switzerland. This area between Freiburg and Constance was known as further Austria and the Habsburgs held on to it until Napoleon passed it wholesale to the Grand Dukes of Baden.

U.a. Vorderösterreich, heute südliches Baden-Württemberg. Maßstab 1:600.000. Repro aus: Historischer Atlas von Baden-Württemberg / / Kommission für Geschichtliche Landeskunde in Baden-Württemberg. – Stuttgart : Landesvermessungsamt Baden-Württemberg, 1972-1988, Bl. VI,4

Further up the Rhine lies the mighty city of Basel, where the great church council, the successor to the Council of Constance had just closed down in 1449. Whilst we covered the Council of Constance extensively in episodes 171 to 174, we have only touched upon the one in Basel when we came to the end of the Hussite wars in episode 183. And with good reason, Basel was not much of a success. We will certainly look at their modest efforts to sort out the decaying catholic church when we get to the season on the Reformation.

For now, we leave this free Imperial city in our rear-view mirror as we continue up the gradually narrowing Rhine, until our journey is rudely interrupted by waterfalls. These are not exactly the Niagara Falls, but at 23 meters height and a water flow of 600 cubic meters, it makes for a decent enough tourist attraction. What it also does is make the citizens of Schaffhausen rich, as we have to unload all our gear and hire local mariners to take us further.

And ever moving forward towards our next stop, Constance, we see looming on our left, the Hohentwiel, once home to the dukes of Swabia whose power had now vanished so completely. Further on, in the midst of the Untersee, the lower lake, rises the monastery of Reichenau, the place where the undisputedly most artistically significant 10th century illuminations had been produced. But now, this once rich and powerful imperial abbey that controlled the entire surrounding area had fallen on hard times and the day when the bishop of Constance took it over was not far.

There is no need to describe Constance to you, I did this before. So, after a brief rest we are now turning up north to meet the family that will soon take over the Hohentwiel and much of the land to the North, the Counts of Württemberg, soon Dukes of Württemberg and ultimately Kings of Württemberg.

The Counts of Württemberg were in almost every conceivable aspect the direct opposite to the margraves of Baden. That even begins with the family background. The margraves of Baden can trace themselves reliably back to the House of Zähringen, i.e., back to 962, and arguably even beyond. And they have the title to show for it. They became margraves as margraves of Verona in the 11th century, they had to drop Verona, but they kept the margrave. A margrave was well above a mere count, automatically a direct vassal of the emperor and hence an imperial prince.

The House of Württemberg may have had some august lineage. There are some archeological remains in their ancestral castle in Untertürckheim near Stuttgart that indicate a close link with the Salian house, Konrad the Red and then Otto of Worms, mentioned in dispatches during episodes 6 and 22.  

Schloss Wurttemberg in 1819

But once the Hohenstaufen had taken over the duchy of Swabia, these early Württemberger counts were kept well below the line of sight of history or may have died out altogether. I will post a map on the website which shows the possessions of the Hohenstaufen up until 1250. And that shows quite clearly that the area they were based in was Hohenstaufen heartland. The castle called Hohenstaufen was just 50km to their east, and Waiblingen, the place they named themselves after, is just on the other side of what is today Stuttgart.

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In other words, the Württemberger had been sucked into the imperial vortex and failed to be seen as loyal vassals worthy of sponsorship as the House of Baden had been. So, all throughout this period, they kept their head down, fortified their castle, took on some minor role in the Hohenstaufen administration and waited for their opportunity.

That opportunity came in 1245 when emperor Frederick II was excommunicated and an anti-king, Heinrich Raspe was sponsored by the pope (episode 89 following).

Ulrich I of Wurttemberg teamed up with several other Swabian nobles to take advantage of the situation. When Konrad IV, the son of emperor Frederick II went to confront Heinrich Raspe in battle, Ulrich I and his friends, all of whom had nominally been vassals of the Hohenstaufen, left the camp, leaving young Konrad hanging out to dry.

Ulrich I – drawing of his grave

Ulrich lost no time expanding his territory at the expense of King Konrad IV. It is important to understand how that worked. We are not in the modern age, where a conqueror would attack an enemy stronghold, defeat its garrison and replace it with a new garrison.

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In the Middle Ages, all these Hohenstaufen strongholds were held by vassals or ministeriales, not by soldiers subject to military command. Under the feudal law arrangements of the time, a vassal was supporting his lord voluntarily, based on an oath given when he received his fief. But this oath was not unconditional. It could be adjusted or even disregarded if the lord failed in his obligations.

The ministeriales were in principle unfree serfs trained in warfare, meaning they served under command, not voluntarily. But many of these families of ministeriales had been sitting on their castles for generations. They trained like knights, they lived like knights, they married like knights, and they looked like knights, so they were knights. And as knights, they too assumed they had the freedoms of vassals.

What that meant in practical terms was that any vassal or ministeriale who gets attacked, has the option to swap sides, or at least can make an argument that it was legitimate to swap sides. For most of the Hohenstaufen period few, if any, Swabian vassals and ministeriales did take the option to swap sides and join one of the many enemies of the ducal family. They knew that they could rely on support from the dense network of other vassals and ministeriales. They also knew that if they surrendered prematurely, the king or emperor may come down later and throw them out of their castle.

In 1246 this scenario changed fundamentally. First up, the Fronde of nobles led by Ulrich von Württemberg comprised many of the vassals a Hohenstaufen supporter would have expected to come to their aid in case of an attack. And then Frederick II died in 1250. His successor in the role of duke of Swabia was Konrad IV who went to Italy in 1251 never to return. The duchy was left in the tiny hands of 2-year-old Konradin. In other words, retribution for abandoning the Staufer cause became a remote risk.

That is why so many Ministeriales and Vassals opened the gates to their otherwise hard to penetrate castles to Ulrich and his friends. In this period Ulrich acquired the two main seats of the family, Stuttgart and Urach, one by marriage and the other by purchase. But most of his territory, he gained by convincing the local vassals and ministeriales to recognize him, rather than the baby duke Konradin. In 1254 Konradin, or more precisely his regents, accepted the gains he had made in exchange for recognizing Konradin as duke.

Ulrich I ruled the county of Wurttemberg for a further 11 years, until 1265 – continuously expanding his territory.

This was not the first and certainly not the last time that an ambitious man seized an opportunity to build a princely domain. But for it to become a political structure that endured in the family until 1918 and in its name until today, a couple more things are needed.

First up, you need to win the genetic lottery. And not just once and not just in one way. For the next couple of generations, the family needs to produce competent offspring. But it is not enough to have at least one competent child per generation, but that child also has to be the eldest son. And he needs to live for a very long time to make sure his successor is old enough and well trained to take over smoothly. Then that son needs to marry a woman from a family that is losing the genetic lottery, i.e., is dying out. Which puts the whole thing at risk. What happens when these less successful genes percolate within the rising family, cutting down either reproduction or competence? And then there is Mr. Mendel mixing things up anyway.

You can see how becoming a major territorial dynasty is harder than it looks. The typical staying time is around 10 to 15 generations, which is 250 to 400 years.

There is obviously not a lot that one can do about these genetic preconditions. But there are a few options that make success more likely.

Then they set up a system that prevented the division of their territory between their sons. They signed an endless number of family compounds where they committed themselves not to split themselves into insignificance. Their northern neighbors, the counts of Hohenlohe, who had started out in a much stronger position in the 12th century, managed to cut up their territory into more and more sperate entities.

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You can today walk from the capital of the principality of Hohenlohe-Niederstetten to their cousin’s main residence in Hohenlohe-Weikersheim in a comfortable 90-minute stroll, and in the meantime you can spot their summer palace along the way. And if you find this too far, you can visit the princely state of Hohenlohe-Bartenstein, another cousin, in an even shorter 60-minute walk.

Niederstetten
Weikersheim
Bartenstein

The next item on the – how to become a king in the empire checklist – is choose your targets wisely. The vagaries of dynasties dying out, power balances shifting and imperial influence rising and falling, there is a huge temptation to seek acquisitions long way from home.

But that should be avoided. The most successful approach is one of block and tackle. You tackle your neighbor, capture some of his castles and lands, and then you block. Block, block, block, and then forward tackle, and again, block, block, block, block, block, block, block, block, block, block, and again tackle. And by doing that rather than jumping all across the playing field, picking up territories here and there, you end up with a contiguous piece of land that is much easier to defend. It also raises your profile amongst the other great landowners, the abbots and abbesses. They do require an advocate, a Vogt who protects them against marauding soldiers and greedy neighbors. A powerful lord who happened to be around a lot is a great choice as Vogt.

So, how did the Württemberger do?

First up, they mostly lived and ruled for a very long time. Ulrich I – 24 years, his successor, Ulrich II – 14 years, Eberhard I – 46 years, Ulrich III – 19 years, Eberhard II: 53 years and Eberhard III – 25 years. That is pretty impressive. But what is even more impressive is that they were all pretty competent.

They established primogeniture very much from the days of Ulrich I. There were situations where younger brothers wanted a division of the territory, but for now that could be avoided.

Then the Württemberger either deliberately or by chance placed hardly any of their male offspring into church roles. So, if an older brother got knocked out in the game of whack-a-mole, the younger one and his sons could take over.

As for the game of block and tackle, they did well, at least in their core territory. Their lands became a coherent block around the cities of Stuttgart, Tübingen and Urach. They even built a defensive border against the Palatinate, the Württembergische Landgraben. Border defenses were rare since lands were usually too fragmented for such efforts to make sense. They existed around major free Imperial cities like Rothenburg ob der Tauber and Schwäbisch Hall, but rarely around princely territories. This wall also acted as a customs barrier, which was one of the count’s most important sources of funds.

From the late 13th and then again in the late 14th century their progress south ran into an even larger and even more coherent political entity, the house of Habsburg.

With the north blocked by the Palatinate and the east by the Bavarians, they looked west, leapfrogging the Badenian cousins and digging into Alsace. Lorraine too came into view, until in 1397 count Eberhard IV married Henrietta, sole heiress of the county of Mömpelgard, or Montbéliard.

That territory, between Besancon and Mulhouse had once been part of the kingdom of Burgundy and therefore part of the Holy Roman Empire. By 1397, when the House of Württemberg took it over, it was half imperial and half subject to the Dukes of Burgundy, causing no end of complications. Montbéliard will remain under Württemberg control until the French Revolution.

If this was the first deviation from the game plan for total domination, things got derailed further when the family no longer won the genetic lottery. Yes, there was still at least one extraordinarily competent heir to come, but what was needed is consistency. Not every one of them had to be a genius living until he was sixty. It is more important to keep the babies and buffoons to a minimum. Spoiler alert – lots of babies and buffoons coming up.

The calamities started with the early death of Eberhard IV, the husband of Henriette of Mömpelgard. Their sons were both minors, so Henrietta led a regency government that was dominated by the local nobility. Once her sons had grown up, they proceeded to split the territory into two, one centered on Urach, one centered on Stuttgart.

Count Ulrich V of Wurttemberg-Stuttgart is the same one we met last week, the one who was defeated in single combat at the battle of Seckenheim. Following this misadventure, Ulrich V and his state were essentially bankrupt but at least not dead.

Ulrich V der bVielgeliebte (the much loved)

His brother Ludwig II lasted 9 years as the sole ruler of his half of Württemberg. Then he died leaving behind two sons who were minors. So, regency fell to his wife, Mechthild of the Palatinate, the sister of our friend Friedrich der Siegreiche and driving force between the foundation of Freiburg and Tübingen university. In 1453 her eldest son reached maturity. But since he suffered from epilepsy, he was considered unable to rule. So, the regency continued.

In this vacuum of an incapacitated ruler in Urach and a bankrupt one in Stuttgart stepped Friedrich der Siegreiche. He exerted influence through his sister, the regent in Urach and through his financial hold over the bankrupt Ulrich V. Württemberg was again at risk of being sucked into the vortex of a more powerful state, this time the Palatinate.

Cometh the time, cometh the Landtag. At this crucial point it is not a man or woman that gets up to protect the independence of Württemberg, it is an institution. And this institution is the Landtag, the estates of Wurttemberg.

To explain, we have to look at one more criterion for a successful territorial state, the sense of communal purpose, or you can call it territorial nationalism. In principle a territorial state is nothing other than a collection of properties that happen to be under the control of one person. But as these territories developed, some rulers managed to instill a sense of belonging to their territory. Much of that came into being during the 14th and 15 century and it lasts until today. Germans who identify as Hessen, Badener, Sachsen, Hannoveraner or Preussen are referencing a territory created not by geography, ethnology or ancient culture, but a random collection of lands owned by a single family. And it is a strong sentiment. My grandfather, who was from Baden would every year celebrate the battle of Königgraetz in 1866 as the last day you were legally allowed to shoot at Prussians.

And Württemberg was one of the territories that developed such a sense of belonging and territorialism earlier and stronger than many others. That was in part a function of the contiguous territory.

It had also something to do with the interior structure of Württemberg. Other than their neighbors in Baden, the Württemberger liked to have cities. They liked the economic power they brought. And since most of their income came from customs stations along the main North-South trading route from Italy to the Rhine, they had an interest in their prosperity.

Many of these cities had become free imperial cities after the Hohenstaufen had fallen. So, to incorporate them into Württemberg over time, the counts waged war against them. Where they succeeded, the peace settlement often included the right of the cities to participate in the state decisions. So, from 1316 onwards we know that 8 cities sent their delegates to the Landtag, the meeting of the estates of Württemberg to “advise and support the count”.

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The strategy towards the nobility was the opposite. The counts tried at any time to suppress them, to force them to become subjects rather than vassals, and where that failed, left them outside the operation of the state.

The Landtag became the glue that kept Württemberg together during this period when the land was divided between the two lines and ruled by ineffective counts.

And they really stepped into the limelight in 1457 when the epileptic count Ludwig II of Württemberg-Urach died. His younger brother Eberhard V was now count, but only 12 years old. His uncle Ulrich V of the Stuttgart branch became his guardian and de factor ruler of the combined entity. But in reality, he was a puppet of Friedrich of the Palatinate. And if you remember the episode on the Palatinate, such a scenario could easily end in the sudden demise of young Eberhard V and a takeover of Württemberg first by Ulrich V and then by the Palatinate.

To push back the Palatinate, the Landtag staged a coup. Against the wishes of his guardian, the representatives of the cities declared Eberhard V of age. Ulrich failed to raise the resources to suppress the Landtag and had to withdraw.

Eberhard V called im Barte turned out to be one of the most competent of the family. He fostered economic activity, founded the university of Tübingen, married an immensely rich Italian heiress and reformed the bureaucracy. On the negative side of his accounts stood the expulsion and arrest of the Jews in Württemberg.

His main objective was to reverse the division of the territory. In 1482 he achieved that by making a deal with the son of Ulrich V and heir to the Stuttgart branch. The two territories would be rejoined. The childless Eberhard im Barte would run it until his death and afterwards the whole would go to the son of Ulrich, called Eberhard the younger. Under Eberhard im Barte Württemberg reached an extent and wealth that not only rivalled but superseded many duchies. So, in 1495, Eberhard im Barte was elevated from count to duke, and with that the duchy of Württemberg was born. The duchy was made indivisible, and succession was based on strict primogeniture.

And within the duchy the Landtag, the Estates of Wurttemberg gained an important role. They were consulted on decisions over war and peace, and most importantly they held the right to approve new taxes. They were even granted the right to resist the duke in case he breached any to the arrangements.

In terms of membership, there were 14 abbots of the main monasteries, 30 knights and nobles and 120 representatives of the cities. The voting was not by estate, so the prelates, the nobles and the commoners each have one vote, but by all representatives together. That and the unwillingness of nobles and abbots to pay taxes shifted the power in the assembly towards the commoners, mainly patricians in the cities.

Eberhard im Barte died in 1496 a year after the creation of the duchy. His heir was, as agreed, Eberhard the younger, the son of Ulrich V. This Eberhard was no longer younger, he was in fact already an old man, 49 years, when he took over. When he had handed over control of his share of the duchy to Eberhard im Barte he had not only gained the right to inherit the whole but also a generous annual pension. Free from dealing with boring admin tasks he went travelling, picking up expensive habits at the courts of France and Burgundy.

When he took over in 1496, he was remarkably ill-suited for the management of a complex duchy in the crossfire of Habsburg and princely interests. And given his love of bling, he almost instantly clashed with the Estates, the Landtag.

He demanded more money, for his court, his mistresses and an army. The Landtag refused. Words were had, and then, in a completely unprecedented move, the Landtag deposed the duke Eberhard II of Württemberg. The state apparatus, the councilors, administrators, bureaucrats and armed forces agreed. Eberhard II fled to Ulm, appealed to the emperor to put this rebellious rubble under the interdict. The emperor responded by siding with the Landtag and installing a new duke, Ulrich I, who was, again, a minor. But instead of having a regency council made up of nobles, it was a government made up of members of the Landtag, some prelates and nobles but manly commoners who ruled the duchy until young Ulrich was 16.

Ulrich started out as a great hero, gaining victories in the War of the Landshut Succession in 1504 that restored all the losses the duchy had sustained during the Mainzer Stiftsfehde.

Armour of Ulrich I, duke of Wurttemberg

But things then gradually went sideways. Ulrich, like many Renaissance princes, enjoyed the good life and felt compelled to show off. His spending on feasts and feuds drained the coffers of the state. In 1513, he had to give major concessions to the Landtag to get them to approve another tax.

This tax then triggered a revolt. This revolt, called the revolt of the poor Konrad, spread like wildfire across the land of Württemberg. To suppress it, he had to again seek help from the Landtag. By then a subsection of the Landtag, a group of roughly sixty interconnected patrician families had formed an association they called the Ehrbarkeit, best translated as the Honorables.

The Ehrbarkeit was willing to bear the cost of the military campaign and pay off all the duke’s debts, in exchange for some massive concessions. On July 8, 1514, duke Ulrich signed the Tübinger Vertrag, the Magna Carta of Swabia. In it he guaranteed the Landtag’s rights to decide taxes. They were given influence on decisions over war and peace, and they could refuse the sale of any ducal territory. Citizens of Württemberg were given the right to due process, and the right to emigrate.

Ulrich did one more thing to cement the new order. In 1515 he went out hunting with his equerry Hans von Hutten. Von Hutten had married one of Ulrich’s mistresses. And when the duke demanded that Hutten would take a back seat in the marriage, Hutten refused. Hutten resigned his role as equerry and planned to leave Stuttgart with his wife. Ulrich invited him to come on one last hunting trip to reconcile their differences. Hutten could not refuse and arrived in light hunting gear, whilst the duke showed up in full armour. Once they reached the forest, the duke sent away his staff and then went after von Hutten. He chased him around a tree, striking him with his sword seven times, five of which in the back. Then he strung him up with his own belt.

That was the scandal that broke the camel’s back. 18 of his vassals revoked their oaths, his wife left him. Hutten’s family sued him in the imperial courts. The poet Ulrich von Hutten, a cousin of the victim, wrote immensely powerful satirical pamphlets about the duke. Ulrich was placed under the imperial ban, and in 1519 the Swabian League invaded Württemberg and duke Ulrich had to flee into exile. He stayed there until he was restored by force of arms in 1534. For 15 years the duchy was again ruled by the Landtag, led by commoners, members of the Ehrbarkeit. When Ulrich returned, he had to confirm the rights of the Landtag and the Ehrbarkeit.

A political structure with a duke constrained by the tax raising authority of the estates was not that unusual. Most territorial states had these. So did in fact France and obviously England.

Where Württemberg differed was a) in the composition of the estates, i.e., being dominated not by the nobility, but by the cities and even at some point peasants and ordinary people, b) in the fact that it retained full control over taxation even during a time when most others succumbed to absolutism. And c) it differed in the sense that it granted rights directly to ordinary citizens.

The rest of Württemberg’s history, which I am sure we will touch upon as we go through the next few centuries were dominated by the conflict between duke and Ehrbarkeit. Dukes tried to suppress it or get past it through imaginative financial shenanigans, but in the end all of these attempts failed. The Landtag and within it the power of the Ehrbarkeit stayed on, until 1805.

Which gets me to the third topic for today. We talked about what it takes for somewhat obscure nobles to become important imperial princes, we talked about how a territory developed its own identity and political structure beyond being just a collection of rights in the hand of one man. And finally, we are now going to talk about the reasons for the economic success of Württemberg.

If you ask any Brit to name a German city other than Berlin or Munich, Stuttgart comes up fairly often. Which is odd, because neither the clubbing scene nor the Christmas markets are much different to the rest of the country. The Cannstatter Wasen may be almost as old and almost as large as the Octoberfest, but few people outside Germany, arguably outside Swabia, have heard of it.

The reason Baden-Württemberg is so well known is the extraordinary cluster of high-end manufacturing in the place. Porsche, Mercedes Benz, Bosch, ZF Friedrichshafen, SAP, Heckler & Koch as well as dozens and dozens of engineering and technology companies are based here. Why there are there today is self-evident. There is a skilled workforce, some excellent technical universities, physical infrastructure and suppliers of key components nearby. The companies are competing fiercely against each other, spurning each other to become better and better, whilst serving a customer base that demands to drive safely at 130 miles around corners.

But the question remains, why did they come here? Yes, Benz patented the first Motorcar in Ladenburg near Mannheim and Gottlieb Daimler together with Wilhelm Maybach created effective engines and later motor cars in Stuttgart. Ferdinand Porsche had worked at Daimler in Stuttgart before he set up his own firm in the city.

But inventor’s personal affinity to a location is rarely enough for industry clusters to emerge.

If you look at the early industrial centres in europe, they are often driven by natural resources, water energy in the English Midlands, coal and iron ore in the Ruhr, Wallonia and Lorraine. Mining in particular can be a catalyst, as it had been in the Ore mountains, in Saxony and Thuringia. And that is not just because of the material they dig up, but also the technologies required bring about specialisations and skills that can be deployed elsewhere. Neither Baden nor Württemberg had much, if any coal, mining or came in early enough to take advantage of water-based energy.

Another driver can be capital. Large cities tended to be places full of rich people, some of whom were willing to support entrepreneurs. So, you find industry springing up in Cologne or Berlin. But Stuttgart, Mannheim, Heidelberg and Karlsruhe were all mid-sized towns, not metropolis full of venture capitalists.

What the region could call upon were the universities, not just the old foundations in Heidelberg, Freiburg and Tübingen but also the technical universities in Karlsruhe, founded in 1825 and Stuttgart founded in 1829.

The Tübinger Vertrag had guaranteed due process since 1514, and the rule of law was further strengthened in the comparatively liberal constitutions of the post Napoleonic period. As we talked about before, the rule of law is an important facilitator of economic growth, reassuring investors that they can get their money back and entrepreneurs that they will be benefitting from the fruits of their labours.

Some argue the fact that Baden and Württemberg were mid-sized state made careers in politics and military unattractive. Ambitious people who wanted to change the world would not find a large enough stage in Karlsruhe or Stuttgart. Hence, they directed their efforts into areas like science and engineering where territorial borders are largely irrelevant.

And finally, we have or may have another major contributor to the success story, one very close to my heart – wine. If you compare maps of ancient wine growing regions and areas of technological innovation in Baden- Württemberg, you see a very clearly discernible overlap.

This triggered two scholars, Thilo Huning and Fabian Wahl, from the universities of York and Vienna to investigate why that may be the case. They produced a paper just 2 months ago, arguing that winegrowing had a material impact on modern economic development in Baden-Württemberg.

I will put a link to the article in the show notes for this episode, but here is what I understand to be their line of argument:

The first point is that in areas where wine was grown, the tradition of sharing inheritance equally could be retained. We should remember that parents have always tried to love each of their children equally and that leaving all the assets to just one on the grounds of seniority and gender is unnatural. This idea is only adopted out of necessity. So, in regions where productivity per acre is low and hence dividing the farm between several children would make each of them unviable, that is where primogeniture takes hold. Henry the Fowler introduced primogeniture in the kingdom of East Francia not out of spite for his younger son, but in order to preserve the viability of his state. The same goes for the counts and dukes of Württemberg.

In the winegrowing areas of Baden and Württemberg we find mostly equal inheritance rights. The issue with winegrowing is that it is extremely labour intensive, seven to eight times greater relative to grains. And wage labour is fairly scarce in the wine industry because vines can be easily and permanently damaged if the pruning, ploughing, and hoeing operations are badly carried out. Hence these had to be family businesses. Moreover, wine is as much about quality as it is about volume, meaning that relatively small plots, if well-tended, can sustain a family. Which in turn means, there is less need to establish primogeniture, forcing younger siblings to fight for themselves.

The labour intensity and egalitarian inheritance rules resulted in a higher population density in wine-growing areas at the dawn of industrialisation. This provided the necessary excess labour force, that was also flexible enough to go back to the vineyard when an entrepreneurial venture had failed.

As an aside, wine was also a very expensive commodity, allowing merchants in the wine-trading cities to make huge profits and build up significant capital. That capital could then be mobilized as venture capital.

Available flexible labour and capital are important factors, but there is something else wine-growing areas benefit from.

Winegrowing is a gamble, creating the need to share the risks. You have a perennial plant that takes decades to reach top quality production, meaning you have no flexibility in terms of crop. If climate changes or markets shift, you cannot nilly willy replace vines with rye. So, when times are tough, you have to take it on the chin. But since your neighbours go through the same hardship, wine-growing villages developed a closer sense of community and an ethos of mutual support.

And that also manifests in the good days. Whilst growing grapes itself is not capital intensive, a wine press, the barrels and cellars are. Wine growers have always and still often do share these costs in the form of collectives. This requires co-ordination, compromise and the development of trust between the members of the society.

In other words, in wine growing areas society is more collectivists, a place where people are willing to co-operate and share resources, both in good and in bad times.

These attributes create trust in individuals and in the community as a whole. Trust is one of the most valuable commodities. When trust is absent, society wastes valuable resources on verification, monitoring, and enforcement mechanisms that could otherwise be directed toward productive activities. All these costs fall away when people trust each other, making the allocation of resources much more efficient. The world bank estimates that 60-80% of the wealth of developed nations is made up of social and institutional capital, i.e., in the trust that individuals and institutions are broadly acting fairly. Now that figure is heavily disputed, but it is not a long shot to believe that a tradition of working collectively and supporting each other makes challenges easier to overcome and saves tons of money on lawyers, forensic accountants, party donations and lobbyists.

Our two scholars, Thilo Huning and Fabian Wahl, are scientists. They deal in facts, not beliefs. So, they measured the correlation between wine growing and economic activity in Baden-Württemberg down to the level of the individual municipality. They collected data on wine growing in the 9th and 17th century as well as at meteorological conditions and compared those to population density, density of firms, nighttime luminosity, distribution of rare given names and various control variables.

Can Winegrowing Cause Rural Development? Evidence from Baden-Württemberg | European Review of Economic History | Oxford Academic

I am not very good with the Greeks they come up with, but their conclusion is quote: “This study underscores the role of wine in the shaping of modern Southwest Germany.”

Bingo. So, if you want to lay the foundations of economic growth in a wine-growing area of your choice, get yourself a few bottles and bask in the glow of general goodness. You get the same feeling by the way if you sign up on historyofthegermans.com/support.

And with that, see you next week.

The rise from minor principality to Grand Duchy

What is it like to be a prince? Well, not quite what it is set out to be, in particular when you are a smaller prince, not in stature, but in land.

The margraves of Baden are such princes. In the 15th century their main territory, a slither of South-West Germany, just 60km long was too small to play on the European, even on the German stage, but too big to escape the need of massive palaces and warfare.

What makes Baden so fascinating is that despite its handicap, it managed to become a medium sized state, one half of Baden-Württemberg. The way there was a long one, involving friendship and loyalty to the death, piratical princesses, alchemy, someone called the Türkenlouis, a sun-shaped city and some skilled diplomacy.

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Transcript

Hello and welcome to  the History of the Germans: Episode 191 – The Margraviate of Baden, also episode 7 of season 10 – The Empire in the 15th Century

What is it like to be a prince? Well, not quite what it is set out to be, in particular when you are a smaller prince, not in stature, but in land.

The margraves of Baden are such princes. In the 15th century their main territory, a slither of South-West Germany, just 60km long was too small to play on the European, even on the German stage, but too big to escape the need of massive palaces and warfare.

What makes Baden so fascinating is that despite its handicap, it managed to become a medium sized state, one half of Baden-Württemberg. The way there was a long one, involving friendship and loyalty to the death, piratical princesses, alchemy, someone called the Türkenlouis, a sun-shaped city and some skilled diplomacy.

But before we start the usual plea for support. Making this show has gone from being a hobby and side hustle to being my obsession and even main occupation. If I want to keep it up and avoid having to set up an additional income stream from piracy, I need your support. There are various options on historyofthegermans.com/support to protect shipping in the English Channel. Special thanks from the Coastguard go to John S., Brian – Gutenberg’s apprentice, Sasha Sirota,  Elliot W. J., Michael Dane from Australia, Conor G., Charlie J. and Zachary Levine. By the way, if you are a supporter and you want your full name read out or me saying something silly, send me a note.

And with that, back to the show

After last week’s detour into the history of the German universities, we now alternate back to our journey through the Holy Roman Empire in the 15th century. We are travelling back down to where Mannheim does not yet exist and resume our journey up the Rhine River towards Basle.

As we do this, we are entering one of the most fragmented parts of this ancient political structure that had once been the stem duchy of Swabia, one of only 5 duchies that existed in Henry the Fowler’s kingdom of East Francia.

In the 500 years since Henry’s reign, the duchy of Swabia had been divided into smaller and smaller principalities.

The first time in the 12th century when it broke up into three entities, the Hohenstaufen duchy of Swabia, the duchy of Zähringen in the Southwest and the lands of the Welf in the East.

Frederick Barbarossa and his successors consolidated the Welfish and the Hohenstaufen lands and penetrated the territory with castles and cities. In 1218 the Zähringen dukes died out and their vast territory was distributed amongst the mighty cities like Zurich, Berne and Basle, the Habsburgs and various offshoots of their own family as well as their vassals.

The next atomization happened when in 1268 the House of Hohenstaufen fell under the executioner’s axe.

And as in the case of the Zähringer, it was the cities, the Habsburgs and a brace of more or less powerful counts who seized what had once been the power base of the emperors of the High Middle Ages. In 1521 the imperial constitution recognized 101 different princes, cities and immediate lords in Swabia, more than in any other of the imperial circles.

These 101 territories varied dramatically in size and economic power. The dukes of Württemberg were by far the biggest, accounting for about a quarter of the population, followed by the Margraves of Baden with 8% and the bishopric of Augsburg with 4%, and everybody else was even smaller than that, with the abbey of Heggbach with 600 inhabitants bringing up the back.

Which gets us to the question, how did this work? What room to act did you have as one of these entities? What were sensible policies to follow? How do you come out on top?

There are several ways to approach this issue. One would be to follow chronologically every move of every one of these players, shuffling villages and abbeys back and forth to trace the growth or contraction of each of these territories. This is what I did in my first draft of this episode. But then I read the following sentence out loud: “it is highly likely that even before Rudolf I’s marriage to Kunigunde von Eberstein, property belonging to this family, which had risen from a noble rank and was mainly based on fiefs from Speyer and the inheritance of the Counts of Lauffen, came to Baden. Rudolf also acquired Liebenzell and Alteberstein, today’s Ebersteinburg.”. And that is when I realised that there are various ways of getting rid of listeners, even such loyal listeners as yourselves. 35 minutes of that kind of stuff, and I will be all alone shouting into the podcast ether.

So, I came up with another idea.

We did know who came out tops, the dukes of Württemberg and the Margraves of Baden, because the state is now called Baden-Württemberg. And whilst the dukes of Württemberg are a fascinating subject, the rise of the margraves of Baden was a lot steeper, meaning we may be able to learn more from them.

And we will not go through all the acquisitions and divestments that got them there. That would sound like reading the land registry out loud. If that is of interest, there is a great map available on a website called LEO-BW that shows the territorial expansion of the margraviate of Baden up until 1796. I have put a copy of it in the Maps section of the historyofthegermans.com website, the episode artwork and in the transcript to this episode for you to look at. That should cover this, leaving us with a lot of room to discuss potential strategies for success.

Economic development

The first thing a prince could do is also the most sensible thing to do, he could develop the economy of his territory.

And the margraves of Baden could look to a very successful set of precedents in their own family. They were one of the cadet branches of the dukes of Zähringen. The Zähringer ruled a territory in what is today Switzerland as well as the furthest South West corner of Germany. There they founded important cities, namely Berne, Freiburg in Germany and Fribourg in Switzerland and promoted the growth of Zurich, Murten, Burgdorf, Offenburg, Villingen Schaffhausen and many others.

However, their descendants in Baden were not that interested in the foundation of cities. That may be down to the fact that these cities had a habit of asserting their independence once their economy got going. Mainz, Worms Speyer and the mighty Strasburg all had thrown out their bishops, whilst Freiburg, ungrateful as it was, had kicked out their local count and put themselves under the protection of the Habsburgs.

There was an established opinion that the margraves of Baden had founded Stuttgart in 1219. They did own the stud farm that gave the city its name for a while, but that does not mean they founded a city there. No evidence of a foundation has been found and the originator of that thesis has become subject of some controversy. It would have been so deliciously ironic if that had been true, but probably isn’t.

As a consequence, the margraviate featured just one urban settlement, Pforzheim, which in the 15th century was one of the main residences of the margraves. Pforzheim is today best known as a centre for jewellery and watchmaking. But that only came about when in 1767 the margrave established  a jewellery and watch manufacture in an orphanage. Most of the period between the 15th century and 1767, the city was left to fend for itself.

Then there is the Weinordnung of 1495, that prohibited the dilution of wine with all kinds of cheap ciders and fruit alcohol and established fines for the use of sugar, sulphur and poisonous substances. A Reinheitsgebot before the more famous beer purity law of 1516. The margraves claim it was the first of its kind, but there was already an imperial order in 1487 and the more meaningful imperial regulation that came in 1498.

Loyalty

If the House of Baden was not hugely successful in promoting economic activity, there was one thing they were excelling at – loyalty, specifically loyalty to the House of Hohenstaufen. The idea being that loyal vassals were rewarded with more fiefs and could expect favourable imperial court decisions in the regular disputes with neighbours and cousins.

They were there right from the word go! Margrave Hermann III fought with Konrad of Hohenstaufen in his civil war against emperor Lothar III and followed him on the ill-fated second crusade. His son, Margrave Hermann IV accompanied Barbarossa to Italy, fought with him before Milan and at the catastrophic battle of Legnano. He too came along on an ill-fated crusade, the third one, where he also died. The next margrave, Hermann V fought for Philipp of Swabia in these civil wars and joined the Frederick II when he showed up at Constance in 1212.

But the title of most loyal and most romantic of paladins must go to margrave Friedrich I. Barely 18 he followed his best friend and liege lord, Konradin, duke of Swabia and grandson of Frederick II to Southern Italy. Beaten at the battle of Tagliacozzo in 1268 they were imprisoned together in the Castello de Ovo in Naples. Legend has it that the two friends were playing chess when they were told that the king of Sicily had condemned them both to death. They heard the message, looked at each, and resumed their game. This whole story, including this scene became a bit of a cornerstone of German national mythology which also developed some rather unexpected homoerotic undertones. Tischbein painted the scene in 1784. Look at the picture, and you will get what I mean. 

[Bildindex der Kunst und Architektur]

So, was it worth it? Well, the last bit that ended with young Friedrich decapitated on the market square of Naples certainly did not. But on the other hand, it could have been the by far most rewarding bet in medieval history. Because Friedrich was not only the heir to the margraviate of Baden, he was also the grandson of the last Babenberger duke of Austria, aka, the golden boy in Tischbein’s picture was in play to become duke of Austria. He did not have the cards though; king Ottokar of Bohemia had already occupied the duchy. But if Konradin had succeeded in Sicily and then returned to the empire like his grandfather had done, thrown out Richard of Cornwall and been crowned King of the Romans, well then the new king would have supported his best mate’s claim on Austria. And if that had happened, then it would have been bye-bye Habsburg and all hail the Badenian emperors.

Ok, that did not work out and instead of world domination, we have a tragic tale of friendship and chivalry. But that does not mean  that a century of loyalty had gone unrewarded.  The core of the Baden lands, that stretch on the eastern shore of the Rhine from Bruchsal to Baden-Baden was at least in large part given in compensation for services rendered. They also were able to expand their traditional homeland way upriver between Freiburg and Basle, the area still called the Markgräflerland, and they acquired the county of Sponheim, quite a way further north, along the Nahe River.

When the Hohenstaufen fell, the margraves of Baden took over much of what they had held on behalf of the imperial family as their own and added a few bits and pieces, though they were nowhere near as successful in this grab and run as the Habsburgs or Württembergers had been.

Military prowess

So loyalty, sort of tick, but not a huge one. They did all right, but not massively so. Hence, if you cannot get it by charm, can you get it by force of arms?

Well, they tried, once, in 1462 in a conflict that involved almost everyone we have met so far. What I am talking about is – of course – the Mainzer Stiftsfehde.

I have mentioned it several times before, but there was no point in trying to describe it unless we have all the protagonists around the table. That we do now, so here it goes.

On May 6th, 1459 the archbishop of Mainz, Dietrich Schenk von Erbach passed away. He had led the archdiocese for 25 years, 25 years during which they lost again lands and rights to the landgraves of Hesse who had now pushed through Mainz territory almost all the way to the gates of Frankfurt. 

When the cathedral chapter proceeded to elect a new archbishop, two candidates were put up, Diether von Isenburg and Adolf von Nassau. Diether von Isenburg gained the upper hand, 4 against 3 votes. He then asked the pope, who was – drumroll – Pius II, formerly Aeneas Silvio Piccolomini, author of fruity prose, friend of the podcast, but also now a conservative hardliner. Piccolomini demanded that Isenburg submits to him, not only as it concerned his activity as shepherd of his sizeable flock, but also in his role as Prince Elector. Isenburg remained non-committal, but Pius II thought he had won and gave him the pallium together with a bill for 10,000 gulden, twice the usual papal tax on newly appointed bishops.

Diether von isenburg

That payment became the crunch point. After his predecessors had lost so much of Mainz territory and income,  the new archbishop did not have the money for the standard fee, let alone a double fee.

It also did not help that another papal condition was that he should wage war against the count Palatine. That Isenburg did, not realising that his opponent was none other than Friedrich der Siegreiche, Frederick the Victorious, who was, well, victorious.

That lost battle further reduced the resources of the archbishopric. Which is why Isenburg now outright refused to pay the papal fee. At which point Pius II deposed him and promoted his erstwhile rival, Adolf von Nassau to the archepiscopal throne.

Adolf II von Nassau

Great result. We now have again two contenders for the most senior prince electorship in the empire, a principality that was already in trouble. So the sharks start circling.

Isenburg secured the support from the city of Mainz, and in an interesting 180 degree shift, the help of his erstwhile enemy, Friedrich der Siegreiche of the Palatinate. Friedrich’s change of allegiance had not come out of a deep conviction on points of canon law, as you can imagine but was brought about by the promise of valuable archepiscopal territory, namely Lorsch and Heppenheim.

Meanwhile Adolf von Nassau too is busy offering generous rewards to nobles willing to support his cause. He was particularly successful amongst the neighbours of Friedrich who feared the continued strengthening of the Palatinate. Duke Ulrich V of Wurttemberg signed up, the bishop of Speyer, Nix von Hoheneck signed up, and then there was the question of whether the Margrave of Baden would sign up too. This Margarve, Karl I, was a sensible, calculating man. He knew the Palatinate was militarily and economically much stronger than his territory. But the margravial family had just hit a temporary pinnacle of power. One of his brothers was the archbishop of Trier, and another the bishop of Metz.

And then news came that Friedrich of the Palatinate was also involved in another, equally sizeable feud in Bavaria, and had left his lands with an army to go to Landshut.

That was it, now or never. Karl von Baden had an alliance of Württemberg, Trier, Speyer, Metz and half of Mainz to go after their overbearing neighbour in the north, who was also out of the country. So, let’s do it.

They gathered their army of allegedly 8,000 and invaded the Palatinate. As per standard procedure, they got busy burning down towns and villages, believing the Count Palatine was away. You can imagine their surprise when they came to the village of Seckenheim, now a part of Mannheim and encountered 300 palatinate riders and 2,000 infantry and the man himself.

It was time to fight. The Badenians called up their 700-800 knights, whilst Friedrich received reinforcements of 300 armoured riders from Mainz. The battle was fierce and lasted all day. As was becoming more common, the deciding factor was the infantry, specifically the militia of Heidelberg who targeted the horses and fought the knights on foot. But there was still good old chivalry going on. The commander of the invading force, duke Ulrich of Württemberg refused to accept the defeat and kept on fighting ferociously. He was then called up for single combat by a knight called Hans von Gemmingen. Ulrich was defeated and taken prisoner, as were margrave Karl von Baden and his brother, the bishop of Metz.

YAKUMO DIGITAL STILL CAMERA

They all had to pay huge ransom and Karl von Baden had to hand over parts of his county of Sponheim and take his city of Pforzheim as a Palatine fief. There was a rematch in 1504 at which Baden was more successful, but that was the end of their ambition to conquer lands.

The true loser in all that was the city of Mainz. A few months later Adolf von Nassau managed to convince some citizens to open the gates to his army. His soldiers pored in, killed a lot of people, including the brother of Johann Fuss, the printer. The next morning Adolf called up 800 citizens, including Johannes Gutenberg and tells them to leave. The city was stripped of its autonomy and rights and was from then on no longer a free imperial city.

But this is not the end of the martial history of the margraves of Baden. They never had the resources to fight a major war, but once they divided their already small lands even further, into Baden-Baden and Baden Durlach that was completely out of reach.

Though they could not fight on their own behalf, they could do so on behalf of others. One who went down this route was Ludwig Wilhelm, Margrave von Baden-Baden. Though he was a reigning prince, he spent his entire life in the service of the Austrian Habsburgs. He fought at the siege of Vienna in 1683 and rose through the ranks during the Ottoman wars, becoming Imperial Field Marshall and supreme commander in the Great Turkish war in 1689. In 1691 he won the battle of Slankamen that secured Hungary for the Habsburgs. All this happened against the simultaneously occurring war of the Palatinate Succession where French troops deliberately devastated South West Germany, and amongst others destroyed Ludwig’s home in Baden-Baden. To save his lands he transferred to the Palatinate front and handed over command in Hungary to his cousin, Prince Eugene of Savoy, who promptly won the battle of Zenta that ended the great Turkish War making Eugene, not Ludwig into a great Austrian hero. Ludwig, affectionately called the Turkenlouis remained in imperial service and was given huge amounts of money, the booty from his wars and a rich heiress. All that was enough for him to build the vast palace of Rastatt, the first of the great baroque German palaces modelled on Versailles.

Splendour

If there is one trait that defines these principalities in the empire, than it’s one-upmanship. Sure, if you are a successful general, by all means go and build yourself an enormous castle, you literally earned it. And yes, if your cousin, successor and rival builds himself an even larger and even more splendid palace in Vienna, aka the Belvedere, then it is a blessing to be dead before it is finished.

But not all imperial princes can be great war heroes. In fact very few were. That did not stop them spending vigorously. The house of Baden has its fair share of tales of profligacy, two of which are quite extraordinary.

The first involves margrave Eduard Fortunat of Baden-Rodemachern (1565 to 1600). Despite his name Fortunatus, he was not a very fortunate man.

Let’s start with his father, Christoph, margrave of Baden-Rodemachern had been the second son of the margrave of Baden-Baden. To avoid another division of this already minuscule territory, Christoph agreed to get an annual pension and a few villages around Rodemachern. If you won’t find it on the atlas, it is because it is now called Rodemack, and is one of the Plus Beaux Villages en France, but not exactly a metropolis. In 1564 he married Cecilia of Sweden, daughter of king Eric XIV. How come a man with a glorious title but not more income than an English squire married a Swedish princess? The only case I can think of went the opposite way, the king of Sweden marrying a German Olympic hostess.

Well, as it happens, Cecilia was a bit of a wild child, having trysts with her brother in law and racking up astounding debts. A margrave with no cash and no questions was a suitable marriage candidate for a promiscuous princess, in fact he was the only marriage candidate.

Unsurprisingly, Cecilia preferred the royal courts of europe to Rodemachern, which explains why Eduard Fortunat was born in London and why Elisabeth I was his godmother. To fund her lifestyle at court his mother employed pirates challenging Hanseatic trade. But this side hustle  wasn’t enough to pay for it all and so she piled up debt on a staggering scale. It went so far that her husband had to flee to avoid getting put into debtor’s prison. Well, he still ended up there when he tried to sneak back into the country. He was only released when Elisabeth I covered his debts to avoid a diplomatic clash with Sweden. Cecilia, her husband and son had to leave and moved to Stockholm. There she expanded her pirate fleet and converted to Catholicism. It is all very chaotic, which is why her husband and son left and returned to tiny Rodemachern. When little Eduard is 10, his father died. His mother showed up 4 years later with the Spanish ambassador in tow, giving birth to a girl shortly afterwards.

Everyone in the little castle of Rodemachern is broke. Ceclia’s income from Sweden has been cut because she tried to have her brother, King John killed, which is just not the done thing. The scandal about the little girl also does not help. The Ambassador buggered off. Still, Eduard Fortunat adds a nice palace on his village hill.

Things suddenly brighten up when young Eduard inherits the much bigger margraviate of Baden-Baden. Ok, Baden-Baden is also deep in debt and profoundly mismanaged, but at least bigger than Rodemachern. So it is party, party, party all the way, until Eduard Fortunat’s habits collide with financial realities. His debts are such that most of the income of the margraviate goes straight out to the big bankers, the Fuggers and Welsers. At that point he asks the Fuggers whether they want to buy the margraviate, but they turn him down. So he goes to Brussels to live with mum who seeming had found someone willing to lend her some more cash.

In Brussels our not very fortunate Eduard Fortunat meets Maria von Eicken, a lady of some wealth and beauty, but not of equivalent status to a margrave. He initially tried to fool her into a fake marriage to get hold of her money but not grant her the status of margravine. But she figures it out and pressures him into an official marriage on Schloss Hohenbaden. Where he appears reluctantly and wearing slippers.

And he had a point. This mesalliance – and his profound mismanagement- was taken as the reason for Eduard’s cousins, the Margraves of Baden-Durlach to occupy his territory.

At which point he comes up with a great new plan. He had met two Italian alchemists who had promised him to turn base metal into gold. He takes his last funds and puts them up in one of his few remaining castles, at Yburg near Baden-Baden. Turns out making gold is hard, but they were able to make poison. So they hatch another plan – to poison the Baden-Durlach cousins and take over their margraviate in return. That, I am afraid, that did not work out either. The whole sorry tale comes to an end in 1600 when Eduard the unfortunate, has an unfortunate fall.

A sad story, which now needs to be followed by a more positive, if equally profligate one.

In 1709 the margraviate of Baden was still divided between two the lines, the House of Baden-Baden living in the massively oversized palace in Rastatt, and the Baden-Durlachs who resided in a in the small township of Durlach. Today it takes about 10 minutes to cross either of these states on the motorway.

They were tiny and after the 30-years war, followed by the War of the Palatinate Succession and then the War of the Spanish Succession, all of which involved troops marauding across the Badenian lands, their economies were all pretty much wiped out.

In the case of the margraves of Baden-Durlach, all their homes and castles had been burned down by the French.  That is why the new margrave, Karl III Wilhelm decided that he needed a new palace. And he called it Karl’s rest, Karlsruhe in German. I guess the name rings a bell, but if you have never been there, let me explain it to you.

Karlsruhe is the most absolutist city design you can imagine. It was built entirely from scratch. At its centre stands the Schlossturm, the castle tower. From the tower, 32 roads emerge in a straight line, like rays from a sun, reflecting the 32 sections on a mariner’s compass. Three quarters of the alleys go out into the vast hunting forest, whilst in the southern quarter, 8 avenues adorned with buildings stretch out like a fan. Wherever one is in the designed city, one can see the castle tower, the seat of the ruler, a true sun king, only that this king was a mere margrave.

The original design did not designate space for a town hall, nor did the concept recognise any form of representation of the estates. Baden Durlach was so tiny, its cities had shrunk to mere towns and its nobility had been subjected, so that absolutist rule found little resistance.

But again, there is that disconnect between baroque ideal and economic reality. Karl III really wanted to be an absolutist ruler, a benevolent one who moves his little statelet forward, but an absolutist ruler all the same. But when it came to filling up his grand design with actual people, he realised, he needed to give them incentives. Money he did not have, nor was there any industry or  university yet. All he could offer was, freedom. So he gave them religious freedom, freedom of opinion, press freedom, within limits of curse, but still, freedom.

So, despite its uberauthoritarian design, it is not an oppressive structure. The palace surrounding the Schlossturm is of course vast, it had to be. The cousins down in Rastatt had just added the Fasanerie to their already immense Schloss and the bishop of Speyer had hired the greatest of German baroque architects, Balthasar Neumann to build his residence at Bruchsal, a mere 25km north, whilst the gigantic block that is the Mannheimer Schloss loomed another 30km further on.

 The right man at the right time

Ok now you say, thanks, this is all very amusing, but how did these little margrave with their tinpot statelets and oversized palaces acquire a territory that stretched 260km from Mannheim to the gates of Basel, including most of the Black Forest and the cities of Heidelberg, Mannheim, Karlsruhe, Offenburg, Freiburg and Constance.

There are two ways to tell this story, one is about diplomatic genius, and the other is about being in the right place at the right time.

Let’s do the hero story first.

When Karl III of Baden-Durlach, the founder of Karlsruhe died in 1738, the title went to his grandson, Karl Friedrich who was just 10 years old. He did take over officially in 1746, but most what he did was having a great time, fathering children and losing money playing cards. In 1751 he got married and it seems his wife straightened him out.

From now on he took an interest in the wellbeing of his lands that held roughly 90,000 people. And she got him interested in the latest development in philosophy, sciences and economics. She herself corresponded with Voltaire, received Herder, Goethe, Klopstock Gluck and Wieland at her court.  He in turn struck up friendships with the Physiocrats and went to Paris to meet Mirabeau. Pierre Du Pont de Nemours briefly acted as chief minister for Baden.

Karlsruhe became another of the centres of enlightened absolutism in the German lands. He banned torture in 1767 and serfdom in 1783, 30 years after Frederick the Great, but at least he did it. After all some of his colleague were selling troops to the Brits to suppress the American Colonies at the same time.

And then Karl Friedrich inherits. In 1771 the last of the margraves of Baden-Baden shuffles off his mortal coil, and according to a century old arrangement, his lands are reunited with those of his cousin. That now more than doubles the size of his little state to roughly 200,000 peoples.

20 years later the French Revolution and with it the revolutionary wars begin. And Baden, on the Rhine, just across from Alsace was straight in the firing line.

At which point we have to introduce another hero, Sigismund von Reitzenstein. He was a lawyer who had studied at the university of Göttingen and joined the Baden administration in 1788 where he quickly rose up the food chain. Just as an aside, he would later reform the university of Heidelberg along the lines of Göttingen and Berlin as we discussed last week.

In 1796 things came to a head. This is the War of the First Coalition and things are moving back and forth. The French have made gains, but they have also experienced reversals of fortune. Napoleon is an unknown general being given command of the ragtag army of Italy. Jourdain and Moreau are attacking along the Rhine. Baden has to make a choice, stand with the Austrians or submit to the French.

Baden signs a ceasefire with France. Reitzenstein negotiates a separate peace with the French. Not a great one, Baden was to give up its territories on the left bank of the Rhine, about 10% of their total and pay 2 million in compensation. His prince refused to sign it. But a few month later, after the Austrians had caved under Napoleon’s onslaught, he signs on the dotted line.

Meanwhile Reitzenstein had moved to Paris as the envoy of the margraviate of Baden. And whilst there he made many friends, convinced them of Karl Friedrich’s enlightened convictions and general amenity towards the French. At home Reitzenstein kept pushing for ever closer alignment with the French, preventing Baden from joining the war of the Second Coalition, as for instance Württemberg had done.

And in 1803 in the Reichsdeputationshauptschluss the rewards poured in. Baden received territory of the dissolved prince-bishoprics of Speyer and Strasburg as well as several abbeys, and – drumroll – the whole of the Palatinate on the right bank of the Rhine, including Mannheim and Heidelberg. And to top it off, Karl Friedrich received the Electorate of the Palatinate as well.

Stephanie de Beauharnais
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But that wasn’t all. Reitzenstein, who had been ill for a while returned to Paris in 1806 and negotiated the real coup,  a marriage between the heir of Baden and Stephanie de Beauharnais, Napoleon’s adopted stepdaughter. That marriage only came about in 1807, but in advance of it, Baden received the Breisgau, former Austrian lands in the southwest, including the city of Freiburg. Then the counties of Leiningen and the principality of Fürstenberg. And all the prince bishops and abbeys, places like Constance, St. Blasien and St. Peter that lay in between, they were all incorporated into Baden. When Karl Friedrich died in 1811, his state had over 900,000 inhabitants, up from 90,000 when he set out 73 years earlier.

Reitzenstein did one more thing to protect the state he helped create. In 1813, after the battle of Leipzig, he convinced the new margrave to withdraw his troops and join the anti-French coalition. That was late, but not too late. And definitely not too late for a prince who was also Napoleon’s son-in-law.

Within this story, there is an epilogue. The allied forces demanded that the new margrave divorced his wife, Stepahanie Beauharnais. He refused, not out of love, but out of common decency, which could have resulted in the restitution of land to the deposed counts and princes. Baden was saved by his sister, wife of Zsar Alexander of Russia who intervened on his behalf and the general reluctance to return to the tiny states pre-Napoleon.

Stephanie de Beauharnais had no surviving son. One boy was born but was declared dead soon after. Then, in 1828, a young man appeared in Nurnberg who said he had been raised in total isolation in a darkened cell. Some claimed that this man, who was given the name Kaspar Hauser, was in fact the son of Stephanie de Beauharnais who had not in fact died and was hence the true heir to the Grand Duchy – something for a whole episode I think.

All these stories about diplomatic genius and daring marriages are however only half the story. The underlying reason Napoleon reorganised the states of the Holy Roman Empire was to create entities that were large enough to provide him with viable auxiliary forces, but too small and too divided to stand up against him. And for the South-West, Baden was not just the natural, but the only option to create such a state.

Let’s go through the other principalities in the area. First up, the bishops and abbots are a no go for obvious reasons. Then there is the Palatinate. But the Electors Palatinate had inherited Bavaria in 1777. Bavaria had already gained significantly, so that adding the South West would have made Bavaria far too big.

A major expansion of Württemberg would in principle have been possible. However, the current duke, Friedrich had joined the Second coalition, was the son in law of king George III of England and Napoleon did not like him. Friedrich was an extraordinarily tall and even more extraordinarily obese man, prompting Napoleon to say that he was put on earth to test how far human skin can stretch. Friedrich in return wondered how so much poison could be contained in so small a head as Napoleon’s. No, that was not an option.

The next contender would be the house of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen. Apart from being a tiny state, this was the Hohenzollern family, linked to the king of Prussia, which also did not work.

And finally, the largest landowner in the south of what is now Baden were the Habsburgs. The area was called Further Austria after all. Giving them more land was explicitly not the plan.

So, by a process of elimination, the Margrave of Baden was the only viable option if Napoleon wanted a medium-sized state in the South-West ruled by a client king, or more precisely a client Grand Duke. Sure Reitzenstein’s diplomacy, Karl Friedrich’s affinity to the French enlightenment,  his granddaughters being the wife of Zsar Alexander and the marriage of Stephanie de Beauharnais were helpful, but I am wondering how crucial.

So, here we are. How do you rise from having a tiny statelet squeezed between powerful neighbours and the need to keep up with the palace-building Joneses: be in the right place at the right time, and then do not muck it up.

Next week we will take a look at another one of Baden’s powerful neighbours, Württemberg and follow up on a theory I recently read about how this region, the ancient stem duchy of Swabia became one of Europe’s centres of innovation. Prepare to be amazed.

And in the meantime, why not catching up on some of the topics we touched upon today, namely:

How the Hohenstaufen rose to become dukes of Swabia in episode 43 – All Change, All Change and then how Barbarossa settles the conflict between his family and the Zähringer in episode 50 “Barbarossa Begins”. .

I often guide listeners to episode 91 – the Hohenstaufen Epilogue to relive the end of Konradin and the House of Hohenstaufen, but there is another story that involved the margraves of Baden, the sad story of Frederick II’s eldest son, Henry, the King in Brackets, episode 81.

Then there is the fall of the Zaeringer, the struggle over Austria and the rise of the Habsburgs we discussed in episode 140: Rudolf von Habsburg and the Golden King.

I hope you enjoy those, and if it makes you want to support the show on historyofthegermans.com/support, you know where to find it.

Onthisday, the 22nd of August 1818 Grand Duke Karl Ludwig of Baden signed the new Constitution of Baden into law, one of the most advanced constitutions of its day.

The citizens of Baden were granted habeas corpus, freedom of property, religion, equality before the law and the removal of feudal structures. The constitution established a parliament with material involvement in legislation and an independent judiciary.

By modern standards the constitution leaves much to be desired. The King had the exclusive right to propose laws and the nobility had a de-facto veto against rules they disliked. However, this has to be seen in the context of the times. We are in the year 1818, a time of conservative backlash after the French Revolution. The Congress of Vienna had brought back conservative monarchy and a year later the Carlsbad Decrees implement censorship, ban liberal professors and student organisations across the German Federation.

The background to this more liberal approach may be found in part in the Grand Duke’s personal convictions. But probably more important were the dismal state of finances and economy after the Napoleonic wars. Fear of revolution was in the air. In 1815 the citizens of Heidelberg led by the law professor Christoph R.D. Martin made a forceful request to the Grand Duke to call a parliament.

Baden furthermore had to integrate a large number of smaller principalities that they had received in the reorganisation of Germany in 1806. Karl Friedrich Nebenius who led the development of the constitution combined political instincts, administrative skills and a good understanding of economics. He devised the constitution as both an instrument to integrate the new population as well as creating conditions for economic growth.

The Constitution of 1818 did not remain unchallenged. The new Grand Duke, Ludwig tried to wind back the clock, manipulated elections, dissolved the chamber, removed administrative support etc. In 1825 he managed to revise the constitution in 1825. Once Ludwig had passed the baton to the next Grand Duke, in 1830, the constitution was reinstated and far reaching liberal reforms attempted.

Until the revolution of 1848, the parliament (Staendeversammlung) of Baden was the place for the liberal opposition in Germany to be heard. The greater freedoms made Baden a refuge for liberal though in Germany. The universities of Heidelberg and Freiburg attracted great scholars like Karl von Rotteck whose political views were unwelcome elsewhere.

It ingrained a liberal and democratic tradition that became most visible in the Revolution of 1848, where Baden became a (short-lived) republic. When the revolution failed many liberals from Baden emigrated to the US where they became known as the Forty-Eighters. Names like Friedrich Hecker and Carl Schurz and Franz Sigel.