Szaman-Cesarz Strasz of the Gryfita Empire - The Triumphunt, The Deranged (1353-1366)
'Therein lies the risk with absolute power - what happens to the state when the decider can no longer decide? Or worse, when his decisions are no longer considered worth listening to?' - 'On Authority and Statecraft', Dr. Jack Bekerley, 1995
The years between 1353 and 1361 would prove to be some of the most fruitful in Strasz's reign.
At the start of this interval, the Black Death had mostly run its course through the realm. That is not to underplay the scale of the devastation and social upheaval it had brought in its wake, as potentially up to half of the Empire's population had perished from the plague. It would take decades for that number to recover, and in some places the devastation was such that villages and towns were abandoned. Nevertheless, the turmoil was subsiding and this meant government affairs could be conducted with some degree of normalcy.
It is often ignored that since the reign of Konrad, the empire had overstretched its administration by seeking to assert control over more viceroyalties than was realistic. Not through lack of effort, but rather a simple lack of technology that made effective communication over great distances unfeasible.
To his credit, Strasz was aware of this and sought to lighten the administrative burden in favour of better control of what was practical. Having proven to himself and to others that he could act with a free hand in removing Pliska, he did just this.
He slowly began to 'trim the fat', as it were, by granting the current viceroys of the Outer Realms their titles as fully-fledged kingdoms, turning these men and women into formal royal families. This came with all the privileges - and obligations - of the title. They were granted a degree of autonomy and less frequent visits by royal officials through the Dwa System, in return for increased tax and levy obligations.
With the burden thus lightened, Strasz was able to refocus his asmiantrafion on the core regions of Poland, Pomerania and Lithuania, which were to be governed either by the emperor or by viceroys. Many of the administrators were in the capital at the time of the plague, safely isolated with minimal losses. This in turn gave Strasz a large, idle pool of manpower to direct as he saw fit, and it made sense to focus on the closest (and wealthiest) regions of the empire first.
Over time, central authority would begin to reassert itself, as it now had a few select regions to focus on first, rather than the majority of the empire. Once these were secure, they would then begin to work with the more autonomous kings and vassals to ensure that the authority of Strasz was recognised after the horrors of the Black Death.
It is safe to assume that England was saved for last in these endeavours. Not only because of its distance, but also because of its history. While England was probably the last region the emperor intended to address, Strasz did undertake one form of direct action on the island, an act for which he arguably goes unjustly unrecognised - the reconstruction of England's most famous landmark today: Stonehenge.
This prehistoric monument had stood untouched for thousands of years until the Third Great Holy War. Sources disagree on when or even how the stones were toppled, as it would take a concerted effort to do so. The most popular theory is that it was a reactionary act of mass hysteria by the local population as the plague and pagans ravaged their home in tandem. Stonehenge has Druidic roots as a place of worship and burial, and for the average peasant that was enough to condemn it.
Whatever the cause, Strasz was told of the damage to the site by Jaroslaw, who was probably aware of its history on the island and the many superstitions surrounding it. What followed surprised many. Strasz would send considerable amounts of coin to fund the repair of the site, at considerable cost to the treasury. He would go even further and declare Stonehenge to be a sacred site, with a temple to be built in dedication to Triglav. Why such a donation? The most likely explanation is that it was a demonstration of imperial authority. The order was issued from the capital, and the fact that Strasz had seen to it that funds were sent to an otherwise far-flung kingdom under his control showed his power.
His efforts to centralise and reorganise on the mainland continued apace. The methodology of these efforts varied from person to person, and the threat of force was not always necessary. Most of these efforts will be skimmed over for our purposes as an overview, however there is one notable example with a vassal whose prestigious name bears it a mention - The Rurikids.
The Rurikid dynasty famously traces its origins to the semi-legendary Varangian prince Rurik, who is said to have settled in Novgorod in 862 and, if you recall from the start of our itinerary, was the ruling dynasty of Kievan Rus. The prestige of the Rurikid dynasty collapsed along with the Rus after the death of its last ruler in the 11th century and the pressure of the nomadic hordes, most prominently the Cumanian horde that Swietopelk III famously had to deal with. It was not until Wojslawa's conquest of Novgorod, and the subsequent conquest of much of Eastern Europe, that the Ruriks reappeared in the records.
Using their prestige and quick adoption of the Slavic faith, the family regained their influence to the point that it was not uncommon to see a Rurikid viceroy in the east. Their position in power was cemented in June 1356 when Vicerene Kazimera Rurikid negotiated with Strasz to retain her lands as an official queen. Probably seeing which way the wind was blowing, she decided to pre-empt any action by the Emperor and negotiate favourable terms to retain her lands and gain favour with Strasz.
Once again, a pagan Rurikid sat on the throne and history proved to be ever unpredictable.
Strasz also sought to reassert his control over another often forgotten body, the Council of Elders. They have gone largely unmentioned due to their general irrelevance in political affairs at the time, serving as a rubber stamp for the chosen successor to the empire and little else for the last 50 years.
When the Council was officially reconvened in 1357, only two members (other than Strasz himself) were still alive. Having been isolated for years during the plague, the surviving members had been out of contact with each other and only now learned that most had died either of the plague or of natural causes. Once again, Strasz acted swiftly.
It was customary for the members to elect another into their ranks in an internal process, much like papal elections. With only two independent members left, Strasz would essentially bully and threaten the remaining two into appointing individuals who owed him personal loyalty, who would then receive regular 'gifts' and suggest other candidates more loyal to the Emperor than the Council. By packing the Council of Elders with a majority of loyalists, Strasz had another institution under his thumb, allowing him to choose his heir with impunity.
As 1358 came and went, Strasz had seen his personal power quickly restored with little resistance. Although not an administrator by training, he was able to act decisively and with action - and force if necessary. It seemed that Strasz could not fail.
The only ‘failure’ in the eyes of many, was his son.
Strasz seems to have emulated Havel in openly scorning his children. Usciech came of age in 1358, and our first record of him is of being publicly beaten in court by his father. For what reason is not known, but acts of public humiliation of this kind were to become commonplace for the successor to the empire. He was considered a failure by Strasz and others at court. He was called many names - Gałązka 'twig', Baranek 'lamb' and Słaby 'weak'.
Strasz had a habit of hiding the more negative aspects of his reign, and remember, he was trying to consolidate his own control over the Empire; a son capable of succeeding him would go to great lengths to do just that, yet it seems he either allowed, or simply did not care, that his heir was mocked and abused.
Useich had been forced through martial training and, by his nicknames, presumably done poorly. He was quiet, unassuming, and though he possessed intelligence, he was regarded as feeble. Such public displays of beatings and contempt would do little to help him, and while he was made heir for the sake of stability, it was made clear that even as the eldest son, he was a stopgap for another child to take the helm.
It seemed that Strasz would have time to produce a new heir, as there was little threat of external challenge.
One would expect the loss of England to prompt another crusade, and indeed it did, but by 1362 such calls had went nowhere. Mainland Europe had been aware of the island's fall by the end of 1356, but the Black Death made any attempts to counterattack fruitless, and even after the plague began to recede, the mainland realms were more interested in fighting each other. Aquitaine and the HRE were quick to fight each other for the remaining scraps in Iberia and for lands in mainland Europe. This stifled any chance of a crusade, as the two most powerful Christian kingdoms in Europe had little interest in working together.
Furthermore, we have already mentioned how the power of the papacy had been growing in relation to its secular counterparts, and this had largely been the case since the 1100s. However, the end of the Black Death around 1358 is marked as the time when the scales began to shift. This was partly due to the Black Death killing off much of the clergy and the moral authority of the faith (something we will discuss in another sidebar), but also due to a series of weak popes, most notably the mentally handicapped Caelestinus II, who was later infamously tried posthumously by his successor in the Cadaver Synod in 1363.
Meanwhile, Jaroslaw's reign had stabilised England, and to the shock of pagans and Catholics alike, there had been mass conversions to the Slavic faith, to the extent that some counties were majority Slavic.
This, only 11 years after a conquest during the mass upheaval caused by the plague, seems shocking. While true belief can never be quantified, it is not entirely unsurprising given the efforts of Jaroslaw and Strasz. Jaroslaw had quickly become popular and had seen to it that any men of rank who did not support him were removed. Catholics were treated fairly, although the Slavic faith quickly became an unofficial requirement for the upper classes and the wealthy to advance.
Strasz had not been idle either. Though not the focus of his efforts, he spent considerable sums transporting grain and livestock to the island as a form of relief and to ingratiate the population with their new rulers. With the shipments he sent over loyal shamans and their retinues to minister to the people. We have accounts of these shamans offering sacrifices to the Osiem in major population centres throughout England.
Combined with the Black Death, which also played a part in people seeking answers in various forms, the island would see a gradual shift to paganism until it became the dominant faith - a trend that continues to this day.
Success seemed to follow success for Strasz. The sudden death of Jaroslaw on 24 June 1363 seemed to confirm this idea.
The cause of death was, in a morbid irony, illness. Flu is thought to have been the killer, although many have suspected, and still suspect, that Strasz had a hand in Jaroslaw's death. This will never be proven, and the accusation is largely unfounded, except for the perceived benefit it brought to the Emperor.
Jaroslaw's eldest son, the soon-to-be-famous Maurice 'Hand-taker' Mykulyn, was only 6 years old and unmarried at the time. This presented an opportunity seized by Strasz, who quickly betrothed Maurice to a young daughter of his, the soon-to-be equally famous Danuta. This marriage tied the Mykulyn dynasty and the Gryfita dynasty together by blood, theoretically securing the loyalty of the island dynasty through marriage, and Strasz is said to have taken over the education of his daughter (before his descent) to prepare her for the role of keeping Maurice in line.
This renewed interest in his offspring did not last long. While Strasz was taking responsibility for little Danuta, Usiech suffered further humiliations. In late 1362, it is reported that father and son engaged in arm-wrestling among the Champions of Perun. At some point Usiech had joined the Warrior Lodge, though it is unclear whether he was forced to or chose to join for some other reason.
If it was an attempt to win over his father, it was unsuccessful. Usiech was severely beaten by his father, first in competition and later in public, for his perceived weakness. He was reportedly verbally taunted by others in the lodge during and after the 'friendly' bout, and that the Emperor's eldest son could be treated in such a manner without retribution.
Sadly, things were to get worse for Usiech.
For Strasz, things were only going to get better.
By 1365, the western, most populous regions of the Empire had begun to recover from the Black Death. Thanks largely to Strasz's brutal methods of isolation, the Crowland had survived almost untouched. In fact, it is said to have grown due to immigration and Strasz turning a blind eye to fleeing serfs from the surrounding countryside. For all his brutality, he catered to the growing power of the peasantry by offering generous terms to those who would work his lands. This was perhaps more pragmatism than compassion, though the standard of living for those within the Crownland had improved dramatically. As a consequence, wealth began to flow into the region and into the coffers of the crown.
And then, the final triumph for Strasz.
Final being the operative term.
After years of abortive attempts to distance Lithuania from the central authority, Viceroy Lambert finally saw the writing on the wall. In August 1365, he arrived in the capital in person and swore homage to Strasz. The emperor was remarkably merciful and allowed Lambert to keep his viceroyalty in return for this submission, if only because it served as an example to all: Those who obeyed, were rewarded.
With the return of stability and prosperity, the empire became increasingly secure. The Black Death had the potential to permanently weaken the central authority of Strasz, as it had done in other regions of the world. But in the Gryphon Empire, the Emperor's word was increasingly ironclad. The Crownland was flourishing, the plague-ridden conquest of England would soon pay dividends, and Strasz would have time to father a more suitable heir.
And what better way to celebrate such achievement than with a feast?
The affair was grand and full of the trappings of an emperor's celebration, though that is not our interest. Nor was Strasz's, for his eye was fixed on Princess Agnieszka of Denmark, a gifted, intelligent debutante.
And Usiech's wife.
Among her other qualities, Agnieszka was known for her many affairs. We have evidence that her contemporaries were well aware of this, although no action was ever taken. Furthermore, it is known that she was not fond of her husband and often scolded him in public, which only added to the disgrace of the long-suffering husband.
I must warn you that we have little concrete information about the events leading up to Strasz's notorious descent into perceived madness. What follows is a brief summary of what we do know, followed by an extrapolation from this to suggest, rather than define, what exactly happened.
On 23 December 1368, Strasz informed the court officials that he would be undergoing an operation, to be performed by his court physician Wojuta. This was standard procedure, done so that no one would question his absence from his duties. Wojuta arrived later that day with his assistant, who was carrying a so-called 'potion' that he had made especially for this. The operation would have taken place inside the palace and, as we later learn, with guards nearby. You may recall that Wojuta was the one to cure Strasz of the Black Death by way of bees - None could claim to be more qualified. As such, he held the emperor's total confidence.
Then came the screams.
Some time after the operation had been carried out, screams and cries could be heard from within the palace. The guards rushed in and were horrified by what they saw: Strasz was undressed and banging his doctor's head against the operating table. The two guards dared to restrain the Emperor, but it took three attempts, and each time they failed, the now-dead doctor's head was smashed against the table again.
When his guards were able to at last subdue him, he began to shake violently for minutes and was unresponsive. We are never told exactly what happened next, only that Strasz was taken to a 'safe' place to recover. A shaman who bore witness to his liege being dragged away, gives one last critical piece of information. He noticed that a trail of blood followed the emperor as his liely uncious form was dragged away - blood coming came from his groin.
There is a lot to unpack from this and it’s best to start from the top.
No information exists on the exact nature of Strasz’s ailment that required the fateful operation, however the affair with Princess Agnieszka have led to many concluding it was a form of herpes. This sounds remakarbly specific for so little information, however it is reasonable. Without going into detail, this STI would leave painful warts in the area that, with medieval standards taken into account, warrant removal. This would not treat the underlying infection of course and would have been medically pointless but would have been an agonislyly painful procedure.
It is therefore thought that the 'potion' was some form of herbal anaesthetic. What exactly went wrong? This is a matter of conjecture and rumour. Some say it was a real attempt on Strasz's life, either in the form of poison or sedation. It's not surprising that this would be the 'official' line given later, especially in later centuries. But it is probably wrong.
One point that is often forgotten is that general anaesthetics did exist in the Middle Ages, although they were often made with toxic herbs or were otherwise ineffective. A recent study has proposed that this 'potion' may have been dwale - an alcohol-based mixture of bile, opium, lettuce, bryony, henbane, hemlock and vinegar. This is because Wojuta's apprentice was from England, where the potion was known to have been used by doctors and housewives alike throughout the period.
This is disputed on the grounds that dwale induces a deep sleep and should not have allowed Strasz to wake up. It is my theory (and it is a theory, I warn you) that if the apprentice mixed the potion as he claimed, what if he made a mistake? What if the dosage was wrong and instead of a deep sleep, Strasz was just drugged, not unconscious? The truth is that we will never know, and the details are debated to this day.
One fact on which most people agree is the mention of tremors. You may recall another of our subjects who suffered similar effects - Skarbimir, with his epilepsy.
It is theorised - and now generally accepted - that Strasz suffered from the same temporal lobe epilepsy as his eldest brother. However, while his older brother seemed to suffer from the more typical seizures, Strasz's episodes seemed to be more violent, with long periods of lucidity in between. He also suffered from wild mood swings, irascibility, lack of impulse control and bouts of sadism - and his infamous 'laws', which he later enacted. There is also evidence that he suffered from insomnia, which led him to drink heavily to medicate himself.
All of these factors point to epileptic psychosis, which has a higher incidence in people with temporal lobe epilepsy, around 9%, compared with 4% in other types of epilepsy. Insomnia is one of the first symptoms, and the factors listed are all other signs. Some have extrapolated further that Strasz's violent murder of his doctor was born out of his experience of status epilepticus, repeated or prolonged seizures without return to consciousness, made worse by his ineffective medication, but this is difficult to prove.
What is not difficult to see is just how having a now mentally unstable man, at the height of his absolute power, could and would begin the decline of the empire.
With sadness I say to you: This is when the hourglass begins to count down on the Gryfita Empire.