Chapter 11: The Hohenzollern War for Independence
4 December 1258, Schloss Nürnberg
With all the improvements to Nürnberg over the years, Friedrich III von Hohenzollern finally felt he could properly call his a castle a palace. His grandfather (God rest his soul) had spent thousands of thalers to improve both the castle itself and its outbuildings, increasing the number of cavalry, archers, and pikemen that could be raised from Nürnberg. Now, it was up to the son to build a family. To do that, he needed a wife. He chose Christine Welf; she was heir to no title, yet she complemented him well; with his skill in espionage and combat, hers in scholarship and stewardship, they were an unbeatable team.
Christine was an impressive woman. She was born with a disfiguring scar on her right cheek, a deformity that saw her spend much time in her room alone. Her parents claimed that the doctor had been drunk, which begged the question: why would a man of medicine have his scalpel out anyway? Instead of being crippled by her scar, she rose above it. She would never be considered a great beauty -- although her blue eyes were especially piercing -- but her mind, will, and zeal for the word of God made her most formidable. So formidable that most men feared her. Friedrich III, the homely scion of the House of Hohenzollern, and Christine, the scarred princess of Welf, made a perfect match. Her son Gottfried remained in Anhalt, to be raised by his grandparents; they'd never liked Christine, and considered her a whore for marrying again so quickly after her first husband's death.
Even Ordulf, his Uncle and heir, liked her. That was rare indeed; Ordulf had developed something of a reputation for being a hermit, although not the same sort of hermit Friedrich's father had been -- instead, he was a hermit by temperament. Very few people liked him. Ordulf's own wife, Sofie, was dull and uninteresting, but could stand Ordulf for longer than ten minutes at a stretch; they were practically made for each other. Friedrich certainly thought Christine was made for him.
Christine and Friedrich III vowed to prove the world wrong, that physical appearance did not determine destiny. Unfortunately for them, the world would object. Quite strenuously.
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24 January 1260, München
The Graf von Nürnberg. Passau, Ulm, und Salzburg was formally in München as Duke Ludwig II's guest. With his new daughter, Gisela, Friedrich III had been granted a temporary reprieve from paying homage to his lord, but only a temporary one. The Mongol sack of Baghdad had shaken things up in eastern Europe, and even the Kaiser himself was said to consider force the only way to stop the infidel savages. Friedrich III agreed only because it was his duty to agree; otherwise, he didn't really care. His own concerns were much closer to home.
Friedrich III needed gold. No, more than needed -- lusted after gold. He loved the texture, the color, the weight, everything. He'd already wastefully spent thaler after thaler completely redecorating Schloss von Hohenzollern (he'd renamed it since the Barony of Zollern was unlikely to return to his hands). He couldn't fulfill his father's last wish without gold either. He'd been learning from his wife how to improve his stewardship, but it would almost certainly take some time to accomplish that. In the meantime, his best method for seizing the Ducal crown of Bayern was to eliminate Ludwig II.
He'd learned that Ordulf's wife gave him a claim to the Duchy of Savoy, but alas, the Kaiser had forbidden fighting between his vassals. That any man should presume to tell him what he could and could not do rankled the Graf von Nürnberg. Friedrich III even quietly promised to himself that he would not stop at any mere title of "Herzog", but that "König" or even "Kaiser" was his. The first step along that path was to cripple the Wittelsbach. Normally, his father, as Spymaster, would have done this task, but Friedrich III was a vengeful man. In fact, if he could, he would have killed the Herzog von Bayern himself.
All he needed was an opportunity.
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16 April 1260, Schloss von Hohenzollern, Nürnberg
Friedrich III's plan was thwarted by a simple unavoidable fact; the people of Bayern, damn them, genuinely loved their lord and master. While Ludwig I had been hated by more than a few of his courtiers, Ludwig II had no such problem. Only one solitary noble backed Friedrich's plot, and that just wasn't enough to get things done. With a deep breath, the head of the Hohenzollerns gathered his council and prepared for war.
The plan was simple: gather the armies to him in Nürnberg, then strike at the enemy before he had a chance to do the same.
In terms of raw troops, the Herzog von Bayern and Graf von Nürnberg were roughly equal in quantity. Each had four Counties. The difference was the inestimable allies of Ludwig II -- the Dukes of Normandy, Aquitaine, and Lancaster and the Counts of Leicester and Dax all counted Ludwig II among their closest friends through his wife, Engeltraud. Ludwig also had a larger retinue -- 4000 strong to Friedrich's 1500 -- but Friedrich had employed the famed and brutal Swiss Company, 3340 soldiers strong. It would depend entirely on the strength, courage, and cunning of Friedrich's men.
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29 September 1260, Teck Castle, Ulm
Friedrich III, Ordulf, and Marshal Gottfried gathered together for one last planning session. Their first two battles had gone very well, but hadn't made much of a dent in the forces of Ludwig II. Friedrich parted with 150 thalers to buy a contract for the Pecheneg Company, a group of marauders from the east. They claimed to have honed their skills against the Khan of the Golden Horde; whether that was true or not was impossible to tell.
Friedrich III drew his sword,
Gotteszorn, from his scabbard. The blade had been given to him as part of his dowry from Christine; it was made of the finest Spanish steel, crafted by the finest smiths in the Holy Roman Empire, even blessed by the Pope by himself. Yes, "God's Wrath" was a fine name for his sword. The old family blade had been buried with his grandfather, as per the late Graf's will. Friedrich III inspected the blade, never before used in battle. The balance was perfect, both edges perfectly keen. The hilt still smelled of new leather. After wiping the blade gently with a cloth, the Graf von Nürnberg sheathed it. "Marshal, how shall we proceed?"
Gottfried was an old man now, his beard completely white, yet he was the greatest warrior Friedrich had ever seen. "My lords, we are weakest in the middle. While the Wittelsbach have three even columns, ours are not. I am most worried about the left flank, if the truth be known; the Pechenegs are wild and do not listen to instruction well. My Lord Graf, that is where you will do the most good." Friedrich nodded. "Lord Ordulf, you will take the other wing. If we win this day, it shall be there -- their commander is a pathetic bishop with no battlefield experience." Ordulf nodded as well. "My role shall be to absorb the brunt of the initial wave. Good?"
Friedrich and Ordulf nodded one last time, then rode to rejoin their men, leaving the Marshal standing alone.
This may be my last battle. I've fought all my life, but no one battle is more important than this one. If I win, I will be knighted, maybe even formally adopted as a Hohenzollern. If I fail, I may be replaced. God, look down on us this day with favor and grace.
Battle was joined. [1]
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24 October 1260, the battlefield of Teck
Everything had been perfect, as battles often were. Gottfried had evaluated the Bavarian troops almost perfectly. It was his own men he didn't understand. It all came down to one unit.
The Pechenegs. They broke and ran within two days of the beginning of the battle. Friedrich did his best to rally them, but it was of no use. The Graf avoided capture narrowly, but was able to join Gottfried in the middle of the line. For days, it took a brutal pounding; Ordulf, instead of being able to throw his entire force at the enemy's left, had to hold his position and endure the ceaseless stream of arrows. Earlier that afternoon, Gottfried's own troops started to waver, and rather than risk destruction, Gottfried ordered them to drop back. It would take a miracle to pull out a victory here.
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16 May 1261, München
It seemed God had spent all of his miracles for the Hohenzollerns. The battle of Teck had been a catastrophe.
It was easy to see why he had lost, in hindsight. Friedrich III had quite simply been unprepared for the massive archery swarm that hit him, followed by heavy infantry. The Pechenegs were worse than useless; the only area in which Nürnberg had greater numbers was in light troops. A bunch of eastern barbarians had cost Friedrich III his counties and, quite possibly, his life. He would never get to see his baby daughter, Konstanze, he feared.
Teck hadn't been the end of his campaign, not by a long shot. Instead, he was defeated at the Battle of Innsbruck. Every one of Ludwig's allies had honored their call -- every one of Friedrich's had stayed home.
The only thing that stood between Friedrich III and joining his grandfather was the mercy of Ludwig II, Herzog von Bayern.
Would the Wittelsbach show mercy? Or would Ordulf von Hohenzollern be given the painful task of shepherding the Hohenzollerns through their darkest hour yet?
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[1] This battle was a revelation -- I am absolutely terrible at combat in this game. Until just now, I had no idea you could move people around in your army. Or that the skirmish phase came first. Or that light infantry and skirmishers had little value. Unfortunately, I did not have these revelations while I was still playing the game. For what actually happened... well, you'll just have to wait and see!
