Lords of the Danemark
Chapter II: Christian I
Part 2: Barely Restrained (1377-1381)
End of the Innocence
Within the halls of the great men throughout Northern Europe debated and pondered which way Christian of Denmark would turn his wrath.
His efforts increased the Livonian Order's dependence on their Teuton benefactors. Teuton commanders began leading Livonian units while Rigan merchant guilds submitted to their Danziger 'betters.' This new trading league claimed dominion over the eastern Baltic but lacked the political power to enforce it. Much to their consternation Venetian ships began importing fur and timber from Finland in exchange for southern luxuries. The Lithuanians, rather than chance a war against the united Baltic Orders, instead turned their wrath eastward.
(Much of Finland is trading through Venice rather than local TCs. Lithuania DoWs Novgorod.)
In northern Germany a half dozen statelets breathed quiet sighs of relief. Wherever Christian turned his wrath, none of them had done anything to earn it. Nonetheless, each formed a number of defense pacts with their neighbors. Albrecht II of Austria promised to defend them against outside aggressors, but apparently saw no reason to interfere with internal disputes: Fridrich of Bohemia, having apparently determined the Imperial throne was beyond him, decided to just take what he wanted.
(Bohemia annexed two states.)
The English didn't have time to breathe, let alone worry about Christian. Weak support in London for Avignon Papal authority only encouraged Lollard heretics who swept through the eastern countryside. They found unlikely co-belligerents in one faction who believed that England's fate (as well as their souls) depended on Papal intervention and a group of peasants under Wat Tyler who had numerous grievances. All wanted royal concessions if not a new monarch entirely and royal authority collapsed.
In the north, Erik V of Norway defended his commanders at Arensburg in Osel by pointing out that Catholics shouldn't be warring with the Baltic orders in the first place, and by taking control of the city his men prevented Christian from making a terrible mistake.
Erik V (to Christian of Denmark) said:
God's judgement came through clearly when he shielded the Livonians from your wrath. We grieve for your lost men, but rejoice that His reprimand wasn't harsher.
Christian's reaction was predictable: He declared war on 'the false son of a whore' in Norway. It is fortunate that the
Rigsraadet had by now taken stock of their young king and flatly refused to fund it. Danish banners took most of the winter to return from Livonian soil and even then needed to hire conscripts. By the time Christian 'declared war' Erik Akeleye had already abandoned his mercenaries and the Council refused to give him the money for more. Deprived of an army, Christian was deprived of his war. He spent the winter planning exotic bits of revenge, but before any could be put into motion Brigit gave birth to his second child, a girl named Alinor.
Once more he cared for his wife through her infirmity and the
Rigsraadet breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The spring and early summer of 1377 were quiet in Denmark. Markus Granntinger once more worked to improve the local economy. Once more he enjoyed partial success, but fate intervened before he could completely redeem the situation.
In August the Plague returned.
No reliable word survives of how the Plague arrived. Some called it God's punishment for attacking the Livonians, while Maximillian Goye, a friend of Christian and defeated commander in the Livonian War, accused the Norwegians of sending a plague ship. It is probable that plague survivors carrying the bacterium infected the population. Regardless, it reached Copenhagen in August and raced through the population.
To his credit, once word reached Vordingborg Christian responded quickly. He understood Copenhagen's defenses: He helped upgrade them, and issued orders closing the city off from the rest of the world. He took command in late August. When conventional attempts to stop the plague failed, he ordered entire sections of the city sealed off and burned on September 9. Unfortunately heavy winds blew hot ash beyond the barricades and other parts of the city began to burn. When defenders ran to Christian for instructions they found him mesmerized by the runaway blaze and playing a slow dirge on his fiddle.
It took three days for the fire to burn itself out. Combined deaths from the plague and firestorm numbered over one thousand and seventy percent of the city lay in rubble. Absalon's Castle, sitting on its island in the harbor, sat undamaged. The fire apparently claimed all the plague victims as it died out.
The messenger who warned Christian about Copenhagen brought the plague first to Vordingborg, then to Nyborg Castle where the
Rigsraadet met. Strict measures limited casualties in the latter, but Teodoso de Faria, the cardinal who led a failed Church Council as well as a concerted effort to keep heretics out of Denmark, succumbed at age 63.
In Vordingborg the plague ran away, though harsh quarantine measures kept it from spreading. A nursemaid spirited the toddler Christian (the younger) away before he became infected, but Alinor died almost immediately. Brigit lingered for two weeks until Christian returned from Copenhagen, but when he returned and realized there was no hope he abandoned her to her fate. Instead he turned to Vordingborg's castellan:
Christian I said:
Wait until she's dead, then burn it all.
He retired to Halland to grieve under the guise of supervising local efforts to repair the border forts.
(Repair fortifications: -50g) The younger Christian wound up with a local baron.
Distractions
Meanwhile, Gustav Adolf I of Sweden brooded. His father's reign had been less than successful, though at least Erik Magnusson's rebellion managed to attract and ultimately destroy the disloyal elements that so vexed Magnus. With the country somewhat united behind their young monarch, Gustav Adolf looked for an opportunity to make a name for himself.
Novgorod still controlled the fur trade from Russia as well as Arabic luxuries that traveled over land rather than by sea. The republic also claimed a great deal of land along the Finnish border; disputed claims Swedish nobles would enjoy clarifying. Lastly they were Orthodox, and therefore beyond Avignon's protection. Some might frown at Sweden growing and there would be token protests, but no one would go to war to defend Novgorod.
Christian rose from his grief when messengers asked if he would honor the Scandinavian alliance. He sailed to Nyborg to find the
Rigsraadet ready to support what should be a token war with little actual fighting.
(SWEDEN, Denmark, Scotland vs. NOVGOROD. Muscowy and England dishonor on Novgorod's side.)
Certainly Denmark could have safely stayed out of the actual fighting. Lithuanians had already overwhelmed Novgorod's border defenses and sieged the major towns and cities. The
knyaz (prince) hid in his citadel while the republic's army under Andrei Sheremetev withdrew to the swamps and fought a guerilla campaign against their occupiers.
Christian had no interest in staying quiet. Organizing a war helped him
not think about Brigit. He ordered Marshal Erik Akeleye and the recovered, if disgraced Maxmillian Goye to take what they could and peace out before Gustav Adolf could settle on a treaty that left Danish interests in the cold.
The two commanders fell out almost immediately over everything including chain of command. Goye, as a personal friend of the king's, saw no reason to obey his marshal or even pay him much mind. Akeleye had no use for sycophants who lost armies on the battlefield. Polite disagreements yielded to cold antipathy and finally hot anger. The marshal's army landed in late December 1377. When Goye arrived in April, having waited the winter out in the comfort of his home, he found an abandoned encampment and orders to hold the port against all comers. Erik Akeleye planned to win this war all by himself.
As Goye settled in and wrote increasingly bitter complaints to his master, Akeleye located Sheremetev's army. The Russians, having heard of Denmark's defeat in the Livonian War and hoping for an easy victory, straddled a road outside Novgorod (city) and waited as Akeleye deployed for battle.
The two sides numbered about 7,800 each with a near identical split in cavalry and infantry. After recent improvements following news of the ongoing Hundred Years War, the Danish infantry consisted primarily of trained militia and professional soldiers accompanied by feudal levies. The Russians relied on their own militia and levies wearing thick cloth for armor and wielding polearms. The Danish cavalry was significantly heavier with metal plate armor versus chain. While the Russian boyars owned slightly heavier mounts, the Danes more than made up for it by being faster and therefore hitting with greater shock, while their lances outreached Russian axes.
(My Land 8 vs. their Land 7 is very helpful: If you total up all pips (Off/Def Fire, Off/Def Shock, Off/Def Morale), my Men at Arms have 14 to 9 for their Bardiche Infantry, while my Knights have 11 to 8 for Druzhina Cavalry. They are due new troops at Land-8 which would probably have leveled the playing field.)
What followed was a slugfest, with both sides relying heavily on their footsoldiers while cavalry exploited or shielded weaknesses. At one point Akeleye led a flanking charge around the Russian left, but Sheremetev saw them coming and moved his horse to intercept. In the end it came down to the quality of equipment as well as supplies: The Danes were well rested, while Shermetev's men spent the past winter in a swamp. The Russians retreated in good order towards nightfall. Akeleye pursued however, and forced a decisive battle two weeks later that broke the Novgorod force.
As summer passed and Akeleye pushed deeper into the Russian frontier, Goye's reports to Nyborg became Christian's only indication of how the war was proceeding. Goye warned him of the marshal's 'disobedient tendencies' and 'habit of lashing out.' He complained that life in the town of Koporye was unbearable, forced to put up with unwashed Rus and arrogant Lithuanians who 'spit on the Danebrog as they pass.' When Christian needed help at home he had no choice but to recall his 'trusted' commander.
It was Holstein yet again. This time it was a madman, a peasant who called himself Christian Holstein-Gottorp and claimed that God told him to save 'his' people from Danish perfidy. In a grand ceremony local priests bathed him in the Elbe River near Cuxhaven and proclaimed him 'Prince-Bishop of Holstein.' It's worth noting the Papacy had nothing to do with the 'bishop's' ascension, which didn't stop Holstein-Gottorp from excommunicating all of Denmark and ordering the people to rise up against their unlawful master.
This Christian was mad, but he had a gift for getting people to follow him and soon four thousand other desperate peasants joined him on a march across Holstein to take back 'their' capital. Logistics and a complete lack of discipline delayed his army however. By the time they reached Kiel, Goye had arrived from Ingria with nine thousand men and the majority of the Danish fleet defending the harbor. Christian (the king) arrived by ship that morning and took residence in the former Duke's castle.
It wasn't a battle. Goye simply ordered his horsemen to ride down the milling peasants. Holstein-Gottorp's army shattered even before first contact, which didn't prevent over one thousand fatalities as Goye's army, angry at being stuck in Ingria, spent their rage in a bloodletting. The madman stabbed himself rather than be taken prisoner.
The Kiel city councilmen correctly deduced this would put their king in a foul mood, but rather than cower or resist they tried a new tactic and organized a great festival celebrating his glorious victory over Denmark's enemies. It was the right move to placate him and one week later Christian proudly announced:
Christian I said:
Ich bin ein Holsteiner kuh!
(I am a Holstein cow.)
In Russia the war continued. Sweden finally committed several thousand men to seizing Olonets, while Maximillian Goye resumed his vigil in Koporye. In February 1379 the Lithuanians finally took what they wanted from the helpless republic and the war entered its second phase.
Turning it Around
Once home, Christian finally committed the royal treasury to rebuilding Copenhagen. He once more employed Stephen Bigsby, the architect his father used to restore Absalon's Castle, but instead of designing a building he was tasked with redesigning an entire city. Once more the king's direct help could best be described as ineffective, but opening the treasury brought experts to the ruined city who
did know what to do.
They needed supplies: A small army of merchants bought iron and stone from Sweden, wood from the cold-but-open-to-trade Danzigers and workers from the German states. Ultimately the largest public works project in Danish history pulled the country out of its economic malaise as thousands of skilled and unskilled laborers found paymasters in Copenhagen willing to take a chance on them.
Fyn follows several months later.
Father and son were reunited, but only briefly. Like Valdemar before him, Christian was an inattentive father and his son reminded him of his deceased wife. He fostered the child to Marti Amic, the Bishop of Roskilde. On paper Amic still owned Absalon's Castle, though his predecessor had given it to Valdemar for his use. Christian simply moved in and annexed the bishop's staff. The
Rigsraadet still ruled from Nyborg and approved of the king's decision. His focusing on Copenhagen's recovery was useful. That focusing on it seemed to stave off his more violent impulses was an added bonus.
The 'new' Copenhagen would look much like the old city with tall buildings and narrow, winding streets in the medieval fashion. Bigsby planned for a handful of main roads however, larger arteries that could handle much more traffic and were relatively straight, so as to improve officials' reaction time in an emergency. The arteries also split the city into a number of districts, so that in case of future fires the wider lanes would impede it from spreading across multiple districts.
It wasn't painless: Focusing on Copenhagen meant outlying districts suffered. Lubeck in particular felt the pinch of their monarch's neglect. As the flow of Baltic trade shifted towards rebuilding the city, Lubeck found itself reduced to an economic backwater. German goods entering Denmark came by way of Brussels or Danzig as often as Lubeck and more guilds shut down or merged with their betters. Survivors split into factions between those who wanted to secede while
anyone still trade through the city, and those who doubted Lubeck could survive any longer without outside support.
Several guildmasters penned a common complaint asking Christian to stop focusing on Copenhagen, but their pleas fell on deaf ears and the
Rigsraadet wasn't about to interfere.
(Trade Research Heretical: Ignore them, -1 Stability)
Adventures in Russia
Goye returned to Koporye to find the Lithuanian occupying garrison replaced by a weak Russian one. He wanted the glory of being the first to conquer a Novgorod city as well as their major port and so planned for a spring assault. In two successive assaults he pierced the city's defenses and seized the citadel in May. He sent word of his victory home, left behind an occupying garrison of his own, and marched on Novgorod (city).
In the far east Akeleye finally crossed over the northern edge of the Urals to strike at the unprotected colonies on Novgorod's frontier. He'd left Ingria sixteen months earlier, and left the last town worthy of the title behind in June 1378. Through a bitter autumn and hellish winter he continued northward beyond any other Russian settlement. The first tribes he met looked more like displaced Sami than anything exotic, but then he found men and women with almond shaped eyes. These were the Saamid, people with no particular love for (or knowledge of) the Rus who Akeleye hoped to rouse into rebellion. Unfortunately they didn't understand Danish any more than Russian and grew increasingly hostile. After taking a few Novgorod trade outposts he turned around in hopes of forcing a settlement.
(I was rather hoping Samoyeds would be worth more than 1% war score. I had the option of just 'seizing' the colony, but what is Denmark going to do with part of Siberia?)
Closer to home and in somewhat warmer conditions, Goye worked on reducing Novgorod's defenses. It wasn't hard: The city didn't have time to fully recover from Lithuanian depredations, but the defenders did have time to bring in supplies from the outlying area and repair the walls. Through the summer and autumn of 1379 he probed Rus defenses and once nearly seized the sally port before being repelled with heavy casualties. Finally in late December the knyaz offered a truce: Let his predominately Orthodox people celebrate Jesus' birth on what they believed to be Christmas (January 7), and on January 8, the city would surrender. Goye agreed.
On January 7, with church bells ringing through the city and most of the defenders in church praying for a last minute miracle or mercy from the Catholic invaders, Goye stormed Novgorod. While he didn't surprise the remaining Rus garrison it took time to mobilize enough men to man the walls. Rams battered through a hole in the western wall and Danes surged into the city. The Metropolitan of Novgorod chastised Goye in the town square for breaking truce and spilling blood on Christmas. He died with several arrows in his chest.
Over the next week Goye subdued Novgorod and his men rampaged through the city stealing its stores and leaving the population to starve. God, he told his soldiers, favored the right and when they chastised the schismatics they do so in His name.
The prince of Novgorod actively sought peace, but his offers consisted of status quo ante-bellums when clearly he was losing the ability to fight. The Scots left the war on those terms. The Prince of Yaroslavl thought Novgorod an easy target in 1378, but paid with his peoples' independence and his life as Novgorod used the last of their waning strength to subdue the upstart state. Sweden seized and annexed the legendary region of Bjarmia which stood between the Saamid and Novgorod proper. As one could guess from the name, Bjarmia appeared in ancient Viking legends and was home to the 'Beomras', people who looked like the Sami people of Finland and spoke a similar language. Gustov Adolf ordered his men to claim Bjarmia directly
(Seize colony) so as to affiliate his reign with the ancient legends.
Another year passed before Erik Akeleye made it back to civilization from the Saamid. He managed to recruit from Russian peasants looking for a better life, boyars who knew when they were beat, and even some Swedes left behind to garrison Bjarmia and hoping to get home again, so while his losses in the trek were staggering he descended on Olonets with a credible force. There he found Goye sieging the city and, after the usual wrangling, they agreed to storm the city.
The Russian and Swede 'recruits' made up the bulk of the assault as Goye lost most of his infantry storming Novgorod. Knights from both armies patrolled around the city to prevent sorties or breakouts. The town's walls, already reduced by Goye's previous attempts to take the city, were no match as the soldiers scaled or otherwise climbed over. Olonets fell on July 23, 1380.
Up until now the Prince of Novgorod stubbornly refused to surrender as he found Goye's hostility towards his people and deception regarding Novgorod distasteful. He was willing to negotiate with Akeleye however, and a week later the war ended.
Falling Out
Maximillian Goye arrived home in September 1380 to the thanks of a grateful king. His reports to Christian were much as before, emphasizing his role in the campaign while minimizing Akeleye's. No one could deny he'd done well and more than made up for the disaster in Livonia, but his insistence that the marshal's role consisted of chasing savages around the northern wasteland wasn't true either. Nevertheless Christian believed him, but if Goye expected to be made marshal he was in for a surprise. The king instead made him Duke of Ingria and sent him back east to subdue the Russian population.
Akeleye returned one month later to a much cooler reception.
Christian I said:
I have a tolerable report of what happened. While (Goye) won the major victories you simply disappeared into the hinterland where you would not have to fight. How many men died or deserted because of your adventure?
While stopping short of dismissing his marshal, he advised Akeleye that retiring would be good for his health. This he did...until the
Rigsraadet contacted him months later.
By the spring of 1481, Bigsby's efforts to rebuild Copenhagen were mostly complete. It would still take years for the city to recover its full strength, but new construction lined new roads running from the harbor to market centers throughout the town. He turned his attention to the Collegiate Church of St. Mary and completed repairs on the cathedral by summer. Christian retired to 'his' (Absalon's) castle. As his focus on rebuilding the city faded, so his violent tendencies began to reappear, and after Bigsby finished with St. Mary's he commissioned the architect to build him a new lighthouse.
The
Rigsraadet met in Nyborg Castle to discuss Christian's mercurial character. Their newest member, Erik Akeleye, burned for revenge at being slighted, but was far angrier at Goye's lies than his sovereign. The Bishop of Roskilde, Marti Amic, was there almost by right and stepped in after de Faria's death.
(Oblate Monk-5: Nat RR -2.5%, Missionary Chance +2.5%) He was an eloquent speaker with few illusions regarding clerical superiority and worked hard to build a functional coalition to 'rule' if Christian's madness returned.
Henning Podebusk, the ancient artist/diplomat approaching his seventieth year, sent a delegation to reassure the north Germanic states that Copenhagen's recovery didn't signify another round of violence against the former Hanse members.
(Cancel mission re-Osel. New Mission: Improve Relations with Oldenburg. I only needed to renew the RM and succeeded on my second try.)
Other than mundane affairs, the primary result of their summer meetings amounted to a mutual defense pact under Amic's guidance against anyone who would abrogate the
Rigsraadet's rights or repudiate the agreement Christian made with his coronation charter.
In June 1381 the banker Markus Granntinger, Podebusk, Christian and a large contingent of soldiers and ships sailed to the city of Lubeck and found it but a shadow of its former greatness. We have discussed in length Lubeck's fall from the 'jewel of the north' to an economic backwater in only fifteen years
(TC value is now in the 300s) and its ruinous effect on the local Hansa.
In accordance with Christian's coronation charter, the Lubeck council would be allowed to choose the town's fate. The charter remained silent on how this election should be conducted however, so the king saw no problem with silently observing the debate with his retinue and several 'bodyguards.' To his credit, Christian did stay out of it and didn't attempt to silence those advocating independence, though his mere presence and dark, glaring eyes silenced the more vitriolic criticisms.
Podebusk spoke eloquently of the advantages of cooperation, while Granntinger gave a detailed statement on the health of Denmark's state sponsored guilds operating out of Copenhagen and the trading boom that resulted from that city's reconstruction.
With Jakob Pleskow dead of pneumonia in January, the 'opposition' had no clear leadership. On the other hand, Lubeck was failing. Perhaps it would be best for Lubeck to strike out on her own and try to reforge ties with the other German statelets.
As debate continued, the worried commander of the city's peace officers warned several councilors that Danish soldiers had taken over the city's harbor including the portmaster and all of its warehouses, while the fleet moved into positions to blockade the city and seize its shipping. When angry councilors demanded an explanation Podebusk stood, only to be waved down by his king. Christian stood and assured the Lubeckers that his men were only protecting the harbor in case of rioting following the council's decision. He ignored several catcalls and continued:
Christian I said:
You have a right to be proud, but the fact is you lack the economic or military might to remain a free city. Your safety relied on the Emperor: Well, where was he last time? The Austrians are no better. They're on the other end of Europe and lost to Poland in their last war. Yes, you can ask us to leave. We will comply. Then who takes over? The Mecklenburgers? Someone else? How about Sweden? How do you think you'd fare under Swedish rule? They don't control the Sound. I do.
Join me, not as a conquered city but as a partner. We will negotiate regarding your traditional rights and find a reasonable solution. I am well aware how you have suffered. We have *all* suffered, and yet Copenhagen has emerged as the leading trader on the Baltic. Join me, and I will make sure cities open to Lubeck's guilds. I have a plan to do so, but that depends entirely on your decision.
His speech carried the day. By a vote of 12-9, the Lubecker council agreed to submit.
(I gave a 4 in 6 chance that Lubeck would demand independence. It might have been worse, but the two trading boom events as well as architectural development would have encouraged moderates.)
Once news of the motion passed, church bells rang throughout Lubeck. Whether this was celebratory or funerary is open for debate. As it turned out the Danish soldiers
did have to defend the docks against determined protests.
Christian stood again following the vote and thanked them for their support.
Christian I said:
As a reward for your loyalty, I present you with the markets of the Duchy of Mecklenburg.
(New Mission: Vassalize Mecklenburg)
