King Swietopelk III of Poland - The 'Liberator' (1136 - 1139)
“I look to the past, to the foolhardy, vigorous child I was and I weep. For that child is dead.” – King Swietopelk III, writing in the Red Manuscript
For some context towards Swietopelk’s final military campaign, we must first take a brief detour. Let us briefly discuss how Cumania gained such a potent subordinate. Calling Cumania an empire suggests a level of homogeneity that did not exist. While at their zenith they claimed control over large swathes of the Pontic–Caspian steppe, they were more a confederation of khans under a khaganate. These khans normally had a great deal of autonomy, perhaps even more so than a typical feudal vassal.
This decentralised approach did lean towards instability and infighting but despite this (or perhaps because of it), the horsemen of the steppes were feared opponents and for good reason.
The Seljuk Empire, under Sultan Mohammad the Great had hit the proverbial wall against Emperor Alexios of the Byzantine Empire throughout the 1120s. The Sultanate of Rum had all but been destroyed and Alexios had proven to be quite the emperor, marking a turn in the ailing Empire’s fortunes after the initial Seljuk advances and the mixed results of the First Crusade. The Sultan had raised crippling taxes to fund his war efforts which had angered his vassals and the peasants. By 1127, uprisings and rebellion had sprung up all over his Empire.
Thus Khagan Atrak, Kopti’s brother and predecessor, seized on the weakness and would crash down onto the weakened empire, declaring war that same year.
By 1132 Sultan Mohammed was forced to surrender and become a tributary of Cumania. The mighty Sultan now had to bend the knee to unwashed nomadic heathens. Having exhausted themselves against their western rivals and under great duress, they were unable to mount and effective defence against an on paper inferior foe. The exact same way the Sassanids fell to the Muslims nearly 500 years ago.
History does have a habit of if not repeating itself, then at least rhyming.
But to pivot back to our focus in 1136, it meant that while the Seljuk’s were hardly a loyal vassal, they could bring ten thousand men to the field. Combined with the various khan’s horsemen it would be a number that Swietopelk III could never hope to defeat. Do recall that an unpopular war against a vastly superior foe had paved the way for him to take over. We do not know how many men and women of nobility were part of the Warriors of Perun but religious or personal loyalty would only go so far. It would almost certainly not be far enough to fight a war scene as hopeless or suicidal.
To combat this lack of will, Swietopelk III would embark on a diplomatic campaign. As part of his ascension, he had promised and delivered on making sure that his council would have say on any war declarations. The seizure of weakened duchies and poorly trained pagans to his west had been approved without any problems, but this was an entirely different league of an opponent.
To those not on his council and/or not a part of his secret society of pagans, Swietoplek III would offer stirring speech of rescuing repressed, if misguided and astray Christians. To those not swayed, favours and bribes would be used. For those a part of the Warriors, they must have known how important it could be to have the capital holding of a great pagan turned Christian like Vladimir the Great back under ‘proper’ religious rule. Bribes and favours would be used once more and political favours on his council. King Swietopelk III would have his popular support. There was the social aspect.
The next step would not prove to be so clean.
Khagan Kopti was a fearsome commander and thought little of making examples of those who would resist him. As decentralised as Cumania was, the Khagan had been using his power to make the other lesser tribes give up their autonomy. He was not liked, but it in many cases it medieval times it was better to be feared than loved.
But not in all cases. Kopti was as much as a feaster as Swietopelk was and it would prove to be his downfall. For on 18 October 1136 the Khagan would die foaming at the mouth from poisoned wine. However, the servant who had poured the wine was caught trying to flee and tortured into confessing the names of his taskmasters. Disgruntled clansmen, Orthodox Russians and King Swietopelk III himself.
Both the tribesmen and the Russians had reasons to work with the Polish King. The clansmen disliked his centralisation attempts and the Orthodox population disliked being under a pagan nomad, thus King Swietopelk III had all the inside help he could need. He must have also had a considerable network of agents and spies to be able to arrange such a scheme 500 miles away from his capital. Another sign of the strength of the Warriors of Perun perhaps?
Regardless, Kopti’s death had the desired effect twofold. First, it destabilised the region and saw lesser clans or territories recently added break away in the confusion. Second, it forced a war. The new Khagan Kubasar was Kopti’s brother and vowed revenge. Promising to, allegedly,
‘drown all of Poland in blood’. There was the web-weaving for now war would come to him, no matter what.
Kubasar would have his chance. Come the 2 January 1137, King Swietopelk III would formally declare war and martial every man he could, including mercenaries. Between good management and the (relative and arguably forced) support of his vassals, Swietopelk III could martial nearly 13000 men.
Defeat was not an option. It was victory or death.
Swietopelk III would gather his forces in Brezesc before marching on towards Kiev in early 1137. His assassination had worked a little too well, for one of those minor tribes that had broken away had seized Vozviahel, effectively cutting off a direct land border between the Kiev Duchy and Poland. The chief had no way to resist so many men crossing his borders, but it would make any future administration even more of a headache.
Kiev was put to siege in July the same year, with the Seljuk Turks formally joining their ‘master’ in the war. They brought another 10000 men to the field, in theory. If they joined forces with Cumania, then the war was lost. If the Khagan could be brought to the table before they marched the required 1000 miles, then Swietopelk III could achieve in victory through defeat in detail.
This was a moot point if they lost to the Khagan’s main force. The siege was broken as scouts reported said force approaching the Dnieper River at speed. Swietopelk III was going to take a page out of Sobislav’s book from his battle at Cieszyn.
Like many nomadic tribes, Kopti’s army consisted almost entirely of cavalry. 6000 light cavalry and 4000 horse archers meant that on the flat terrain of Kiev they would run literal circles around Swietopelk’s more infantry-based force. Nomadic tactics favoured hit and run and harassment, taking advantage of their unmatched mobility to break up pockets of infantry and without the correct terrain or overwhelming numbers, armies at the time had little counter.
It would be for this reason that Swietopelk III would march his army to line up across Dnieper River. It was a vital chokepoint and the only way to cross was by fording along shallow points or by narrow, scattered bridges. The King had sent out a small detachment of horsemen to collapse the nearest bridges and made ready for battle.
On the 4 August 1137 Khagan Kopti would arrive and make is move. Hoping to press his cavalry superiority and perhaps a desire for revenge over his brother, he wasted no time in sending his horsemen over the fords. It was Swietopelk’s estimated 13000 men against a nomadic collation force of 12000. This was where Swietopelk III pressed his first advantage.
Horse archers used composite bows. These were smaller and shorter ranged than traditional bows which meant that Swietopelk’s archers could outrange the horse archers and had a concentrated point of fire to target. Many men would be killed or drowned under the fire.
With only 2000 archers however, there were enough arrows to break the crossing and soon enough the horsemen would charge his lines. He had put his heaviest troops in the front to receive the charge, most armed with spears or swords. Much like with Sobieslav, there were no graceful tactics, just brutal fighting and holding the line.
The horse archers would also begin to return fire, focusing on the foot archers. Swietopelk III had prepared for this and mixed in lighter troops in with them to try and shield the archers from the fire.
Scores would be cut down by arrows on both sides and the fighting at the front quickly devolved into a shoving contest. Horsemen would break off, only to be replaced by others and leading those unable to resist chasing after them to their deaths. Swietopelk III would play his final card and circle around with his cavalry, charging into the sides of the veritable horde of horsemen to relieve pressure on the front. His light cavalry was mostly equipped with spears and the charge had the desired effect.
The exhausting fight would continue for the rest of the day. By nightfall, Swietopelk III had achieved victory at great cost. Both sides would take equal casualties, leaving an estimated 8000 men dead.
The forces of Kopti fled back over the Dniper into the Steppes. It had been a close victory and Swietopelk’s men were exhausted after such a savage fight. Though there would be no time for rest. Swietopelk would march them across the Dniper in apparent chase of their foe.
At face value it seems like a miscalculation to chase after a horsebound foe into their home territory. That is because arguably it is, though there was reasoning behind it.
The plan was to construct a fort to act both as a supply base for the upcoming siege and as a forward watchtower of sorts to alert the besiegers if any sizeable force was on the march. As awkwardly cut off as they were now, being surrounded or sallied against during a siege was not an option. It was for this reason that they would march to Priluk, salvaging what timber they could find and having the whole force rest there while the fort was constructed.
However, Swietopelk misjudged his opponent.
While some of the nomadic forces had disbanded or deserted, they had recovered far quicker than expected. Instead of running away to regroup further inland, they had merely regrouped in Sugrov and in only a couple of months they were back on the warpath. Swietopelk had let his guard down and was about to pay for it, scouts would report an army of nearly 7000 horsemen were on their way. There was no time to pull back - they had overextended.
On the next day, the 16 January 1138, with the fort still only a basic square of sharpened stakes, the Battle of Priluk began.
There was no advantageous terrain or even a battleplan this time. The archers would be sequestered inside the still incomplete fort and then the army wrapped around the wooden walls to protect their backs.
With around 9000 men still able to fight, Swietopelk had a numerical advantage but that was it. The enemy horsemen would refuse to be locked into a fight with the infantry, so the King led his cavalry in person to lock down the horsemen. Estimates put him as being locally outnumbered at least 2:1.
'The Charge at Priluk' by Iwo Bodo 1941. Note how Swietopelk is depicted in the light, a thundercloud above him ( a sign of Perun's favor), with the Cumans portrayed in a sickly green and in retreat. This battle, like many, would be made more romantic and glorious than it was.
The archers would target the horsemen as before, though had no protection other than the walls from return arrow fire and would take considerable losses.
The brash plan proved to be a success in locking down the horsemen in combat. The heavier infantry would surge forwards and pull many riders off their horses. Though it would not be without a price.
In the thick of the fighting, Swietopelk’s helmet would come loose, and a horseman would break through his bodyguards and slash the King across the face, wounding him and killing his white horse from under him. The assailant was cut down and the ranks closed around their King. In the end, they would have another bloody and costly victory. It was perhaps the closest he had come to death in his life and many have noted it was a similar fate that King Boleslaw had suffered, a curved blade another inch or two in a more vital spot, or a fall at a slightly different angle and history as we know it could have been radically changed.
They would fall back to Kiev and begin the siege in earnest. The fort would never be completed and deemed a waste of effort. This is often accounted as the first major tactical error the King had made. At all times there was worry and concern of an army crossing the Dniper and destroying their now much battered force, but the threat never materialised. The Grand City itself would fall by May through forced assaults and negotiations for surrender began soon after.
Khagan Kubasar was eager for peace and would accept giving up the Duchy of Kiev in its entirety. His authority had been dashed, his forces routed and worst of all, sensing weakness, the Seljuk Turks initially on the way to aid them entered open rebellion against their masters. Kopti had too many fires to put out to give time to his revenge.
Swietopelk III had gambled and won. It had cost him greatly, but the famous city was now under his direct control.
Recovering from his wounds (and leaving a nasty scar) he would order months of feasting and celebration within his Kingdom, having liberated his fellow, if misguided, Christians from the nomadic yoke.
Khagan Kubasar would do the same later that year, to drum up support for his reign, just like his brother. And he would die, just like his brother. Sending the once mighty confederation into a downward spiral it would not recover from. Was this tactical? Spiteful revenge? Perhaps both?
It was Swietopelk’s last military campaign. At age 52 he was now approaching his elder years. His final years. Publicly, he would be jubilant in his victory.
In his Manuscript he would be distraught at how careless and reckless he had been, coming within a single stroke of death. The young 19-year-old raider who lived for combat was long gone. He would never take the blade again and it is after this period that historians note his writings in the Manuscript becoming more fatalistic and blunter, devoid of his usual prose. Contempartery records also note this change of personality, for there would be no more private feasts. The picture painted is one of a man who has withdrawn and seen and done far too much for a mind to bear. His pride had been torn asunder.
If you'll forgive a quote from The Legends -
'"O foolish King" decried Perun. "Pride is water - in a cup it can sustain you, in a river it can drown you."' Many assume that his son had seen the effect the battle had on his father and thus included this in his future works, thought that is debated fiercly. But I digress.
For there was one more battle that had to be one. One that had been raging in the background of his Kingdom since he took power in 1113. Though this was not a battle of blade and bow, but that on faith and belief.
A battle that was nearing its conclusion.
And it would prove to be just as bloody as his last.
