The Visconti Victorious 2.0
- Thread starter The Undead Martyr
- Start date
Couple things regarding Poland @Zygmunt Stary
I'm probably going to keep the Polish-Brandenburg union. I like the notion of a more westward oriented Poland which integrates/annexes the West Slavs, or tries to at any rate.
My general impression is that one would need a High Medieval or earlier PoD to Polonize Wendland/Northeastern Germany; that being said Lusatia and the Sorbs are still Slavic (to an extent) up to the present day, and might be Polonized. Silesia IIRC only became "German" as a result of migration after the Thirty Years War- ditto the Sudetenland. TTL I imagine Silesia would remain firmly Slavic, barring potential divergences.
Poland had a relatively successful track record of integrating eastern nobles, albeit they failed to do this enough to keep Ruthenia, and the Deluge effectively signaled the failure of both Polonization and integration. That said, if Polish territories are limited to e.g. Red Ruthenia, and Poland somewhat more centralized, perhaps territories like Galicia would be more firmly Polish. Lithuania, or the parts of it (e.g. Vilnius, though if Poland controls that then Lithuania's long term viability seems dubious) might also be somewhat more Polonized than OTL, if Lithuania itself is not a full fledged member of a commonwealth due to territorial losses/partition.
By the same token, I wonder if the linguistic border in Prussia might be pushed westward towards Kashubia.
Which brings me to another question- Vytautas and the Rus. I've wondered at a possible divergence at the battle of Vorskla River- perhaps Vytautas is killed, or perhaps he manages to win. Either way, the OTL union would likely be averted- victory means Vytautas is less reliant on Poland and able to double down on conquering the Golden Horde lands in Ruthenia, perhaps culminating in him seeking to, essentially, become the new lord of Russia (or even outright converting to Orthodoxy and proclaiming himself Tsar). Alternately, absent Vytautas Lithuania seems that it might lose more territory than OTL, and fall more firmly into the Polish orbit.
I'm probably going to keep the Polish-Brandenburg union. I like the notion of a more westward oriented Poland which integrates/annexes the West Slavs, or tries to at any rate.
My general impression is that one would need a High Medieval or earlier PoD to Polonize Wendland/Northeastern Germany; that being said Lusatia and the Sorbs are still Slavic (to an extent) up to the present day, and might be Polonized. Silesia IIRC only became "German" as a result of migration after the Thirty Years War- ditto the Sudetenland. TTL I imagine Silesia would remain firmly Slavic, barring potential divergences.
Poland had a relatively successful track record of integrating eastern nobles, albeit they failed to do this enough to keep Ruthenia, and the Deluge effectively signaled the failure of both Polonization and integration. That said, if Polish territories are limited to e.g. Red Ruthenia, and Poland somewhat more centralized, perhaps territories like Galicia would be more firmly Polish. Lithuania, or the parts of it (e.g. Vilnius, though if Poland controls that then Lithuania's long term viability seems dubious) might also be somewhat more Polonized than OTL, if Lithuania itself is not a full fledged member of a commonwealth due to territorial losses/partition.
By the same token, I wonder if the linguistic border in Prussia might be pushed westward towards Kashubia.
Which brings me to another question- Vytautas and the Rus. I've wondered at a possible divergence at the battle of Vorskla River- perhaps Vytautas is killed, or perhaps he manages to win. Either way, the OTL union would likely be averted- victory means Vytautas is less reliant on Poland and able to double down on conquering the Golden Horde lands in Ruthenia, perhaps culminating in him seeking to, essentially, become the new lord of Russia (or even outright converting to Orthodoxy and proclaiming himself Tsar). Alternately, absent Vytautas Lithuania seems that it might lose more territory than OTL, and fall more firmly into the Polish orbit.
There were Germans in Silesia prior to Thirty Years War, however, there was also a lot of them in Poland proper. Cracovian city documents show widespread usage of German up to XVIth-XVIIth century. Did it bother someone?
No, because these Germans felt no political connection to Germany whatsoever. It'd be probably similar in Silesia if not for polities with significant amount of Germans in elite (first Habsburg Austria, than Prussia) taking Silesia. But we also need to mention than up to mid-XIXth century roughly half of Lower Silesia still spoke "wasserpolnisch" and Upper Silesia was never properly germanized (that's why the original Silesian dialect which is not used in Lower Silesia, which has population composed from Poles from Eastern Borderlands and rest of the country and their descendants).
Well, the religion was a big barrier in integrating the East. It might be mitigated (by conversions of nobles and peasants to Roman Catholicism/union with Pope with keeping Greek Rite), but it's not going anywhere.
Polonization of Lithuania is a tricky matter, but if it's retaining more degree of independence than it did IOTL, it lacks settlers for the largely underpopulated southeastern part of the country (today's Ukraine). IOTL Poland provided them.
I don't think either of these scenarios you describe as far as Vytautas is convinced are true. First of all, Vytautas's empire was not particularly stable and it could be said that he bit off than he could chew.
I think if he managed to win against Golden Horde, he'd be embroiled in never-ending struggle with Ruthenian princes, which he would not be able to win alone and he'd know it.
With absent Vytautas, Lithuania would be easier to govern and I don't know who would replace him, so option where Lithuanian nobles (or at least faction of them) backs someone more anti-Polish than Vytautas is also possible.
But I think it's better to discuss this more in a PM. And as far as uniting Western Slavs is concerned - there also are Slovaks in Hungary if you think that Poland would aim to that.
So without massive Hungary-screw I don't see that. Polish-Bohemian union might somewhat viable, on the other hand.
What do you mean by northeastern Germany exactly?
Brandenburg and associated territories which were Slavic in the 11th century. Polish control and integration integration those territories would necessitate a much earlier PoD; I've considered a timeline on it.
Poland OTL held a few fiefs in Slovakia, and I can absolutely see a strong Poland eventually meddling there.
Poland OTL held a few fiefs in Slovakia, and I can absolutely see a strong Poland eventually meddling there.
The idea that a westward Poland would meaningfully reverse Germanization during this period makes no sense to me, even places within early modern Poland like Deutsche Krone became almost homogeneously German and as far as I know it's not because of the Prussian period(I doubt the Prussians were so successful in Germanizing anything compared to the medieval and early modern period), Danzig wasn't that Polonized within the entire PLC period either, despite it being a large and well-connected city.
About the situation in 1500, I think that Western Silesia around Jawor and Swidnica were already majority or German and by 1618 places like Breslau were already near the linguistic border, with cities near the border being pockets of more Germanized regions, but that can change more easily.
So without any major change from 1500 Poles would be the majority in Upper Silesia and generally north of or just around the Oder in Lower Silesia.
Also the fact that the Germans were concentrated near the western Sudetes in Silesia makes me think that the Sudetenlands also must have experience early Germanization around the northern parts(near Upper Saxony and Lower Silesia), while the regions in Czech Silesia were Germanized only later.
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Even Polish sources estimates that most of Silesia was German already by 1800 and that the 19th century period only pushed the the linguistic border eatward from the countryside around Breslau to the pre-WW1 border.
On top of that considering population density patterns(at least in industrial Germany) I'd say that Lower Silesia(under Prussian definition) was probably majority German(or at least around half) by 1618 already.
Do you have any source for that? If what you claim would be true, the term https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wasserpolak would never be described. Besides if you are talking about border in a countryside around Breslau - that's roughly a half of Lower Silesia
Breslau is nearly in center of it.
By 1618 is too much of a stretch, but yes western half of Lower Silesia was pretty much germanized at least in late XVIIth/earlyXVIIIth century.
Do you have any source for that? If what you claim would be true, the term https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wasserpolak would never be described. Besides if you are talking about border in a countryside around Breslau - that's roughly a half of Lower Silesia
Breslau is nearly in center of it.
By 1618 is too much of a stretch, but yes western half of Lower Silesia was pretty much germanized at least in late XVIIth/earlyXVIIIth century.
Rather than West vs East, the trend is more like south-west vs north-east.
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Actually Czech Silesia was Germanized quite early, it's interesting how Germans were more prominent near the Sudetes, I imagine it has to with different agricultural capabilities.
Rather than West vs East, the trend is more like south-west vs north-east.
Yeah, mountainous areas near Sudetes were barely settled before Germans came, it's no surprise they became soon an majority. Still, we're like 2 centuries prior to XVIIth century.
I do think that Gallo Italian (specifically Lombard) will be more dominant, especially since Italy includes a good chunk of France, but Tuscan will likely remain fairly prominent. It had emerged as a lingua franca even in the 13tu century
The thing is that Tuscan become prominent within a politically divided and multipolar Italy, this type of Italy instead would be concentrated on the Po Valley and have its main cities located there, plus if printing presses spread from the north the padanian cities would be the first to adopt it, though not that earlier.
Royal Ambitions
Royal Ambitions
Gian Galeazzo’s untimely demise did not unravel his state. His wife Isabella had convoked a new Senate even before her husband was buried, in which her son acclaimed king and gave his oath to uphold the Lombards’ rights and privileges- the Senate was again confirmed as exercising control over taxes outside of the king’s domains. Most of the power brokers in Lombardy clearly preferred to work within the Visconti state rather than outside of it- the very same calculus that had allowed Gian Galeazzo to unify much of Padania. The greatest danger, of course, came from the boy king’s uncles, who in 1404 were by and large quiescent, preoccupied with managing their own affairs and estates. Azzone Visconti enmeshed himself in Papal matters and remained in Spoleto far to the south, where he could cultivate ties within the Eternal City; his younger brother Carlo Maria, third and youngest son of Gian Galeazzo I, was a more active presence in Lombardy, but also hamstrung by the government of his extensive Duchy of Tuscany and his own poor health. This necessitated long absences from Pavia, preventing him from becoming a predominant personal force in the capital. Power in the court correspondingly coalesced behind two powerful widows- the Dowager Queen Regent Isabella of France, and the Queen Mother Sophia of Bavaria, widow of Gian Galeazzo II and mother to the young King Matteo; Isabella generally favored her son Carlo Maria’s partisans and a continuation of her late husband’s conservative domestic policies, along with a staunch Francophilia and rapprochement with the German Empire. Sophia, in contrast, resented her lack of formal power in the court, and increasingly aligned herself with the distant Azzone Visconti, who favored a muscular foreign policy vis a vis Germany. Sophia wanted her son to place his kingdom behind her own brother, the young and ambitious Ernest III of Bavaria-Munich, the dominant figure in southern Germany. Since his marriage in 1398 to Anna of Saxony, sister of the Ascanian Elector Rudolf III, he had increasingly entertained imperial ambitions vis a vis the crown borne by his illustrious great-grandfather Charles. Lombard assistance, or even a formal promise of homage from his nephew the King of Italy, would do much to advance those ambitions.
Azzone Visconti was broadly preoccupied with Papal affairs and remained in the south. Boniface died on February 1, 1403, clearing the way for Visconti ascendancy within the city. Azzone belatedly recalled his mother’s promise to Philip of Burgundy and his soldiers broke apart the Papal conclave- winning the support of men such as Cardinal Ludovico Fieschi, who desired an immediate end to the Schism and opposed a new Papal election without the general support of the Church. Azzone subsequently orchestrated his acclamation as Prince of Rome- he became the head of a new secular Roman state, independent of Papal authority, and pledged to uphold the city’s “ancient and Republican liberties” in conjunction with the leading aristocratic families.
The two Queens’ authority increased with the murder of Carlo Maria Visconti in late 1405. Inheriting much of his father’s ambitions but little of his talents, Carlo Maria had ruthlessly centralized power around his own person. In particular, he had made himself hated in both Pisa and Florence by the imposition of a French style centralized monarchy. From his perspective, Tuscany- as a royal apanage- was not subject to the rule of the Lombard Senate, and he was free to rule as a despot; Carlo postured as the inheritor of autocratic Papal authority over Tuscany, subject to no constraints on his absolute power, and he wielded this power like a tyrant, frequently ordering the brutal executions of suspected conspirators within Florence and other great cities. This, at least, is what the Tuscans said of him after his death, but Carlo Maria had undeniably made many enemies. His most dangerous was a man his father had entrusted with the government of Pisa- the powerful Gherardo Appiani, Lord of Piombino, an ambitious man whose father had sold Pisa to Gian Galeazzo Visconti several years prior. Appiani resented the Duke’s failure to include him within the government and decided to remove his liege lord and seize power for himself; we are told that Appiani was suspected of conspiring with his wife’s relations, the powerful Colonna family of Rome. On June 22, 1405, Carlo Maria Visconti was accosted by armed men outside of the Cathedral of Siena and stabbed twenty four times, “once more,” Leonardo Nogarola wrote in the following century, perhaps somewhat facetiously, “than the great Caesar, and a deed committed by men of lesser station; for such was the degeneracy of morals among men after Rome’s fall.”[1] Carlo Maria left behind him the widowed Aragonese princess Margaret of Urgell, three sons, and four daughters- two of them bastards. His eldest son, the ten-year-old Galeazzo, became Duke of Tuscany, inheriting government of Siena and Florence and the lion’s share of his father’s vast estates; the middle boy received the lordship of Pisa, while his youngest son Guido received the Emilian cities of Bologna and Forli, purchased by Carlo Maria from Gian Galeazzo’s destitute bastard four years prior.
Further north, affairs in Pavia came to a head with the death of the venerable Dowager Queen Isabella on July 5, 1405. Sophia rapidly gained ascendance after her predecessor’s passing, displacing most of the existing officers and appointing her own favorites instead. Within Tuscany, Gherardo’s rebellion failed to make headway outside of Pisa, which opened its gates to Gherardo and named him prince. The widowed Duchess Margaret of Urgell appealed immediately to both Sophia and Azzone, the latter of whom literally stole a march on the Lombard regent. A Roman army marched north and crushed the Pisan Revolt after defeating and killing Appiani on the banks of the Arno. Thereafter, Azzone assumed full government for his nephews in Tuscany, sidelining Margaret with his own loyalists; although he was unable to do the same in Pavia for fear of Sophia’s powerful relatives, he did force the Queen Regent into a power-sharing arrangement like that established by his father, appointing a Franco-Neapolitan retainer named Bernard of Gaeta as his representative in Lombardy and receiving a free hand in the government of Tuscany. Thus, Azzone joined the ranks of powerful princely regents- remarkably, Italy, Spain, England, Germany, and France all suffered underage or incapable monarchs in this period, and all saw collateral relations of the King capture the central government; tellingly, in most of these countries the lines of the regents would either seize power or be destroyed in the following decades. Even if his nephews never came to harm, they would be completely powerless puppets while Azzone lived: Italy, after 1406, had neither an Emperor nor Pope, King nor Duke; she had only her Prince, who ruled from the Swiss Alps to the Island of Malta with steel will and silver tongue.
A signal of Azzone’s newfound power and influence was the marriage of his bastard daughter Giovanna to Henry of Monmouth, son of the Lord Regent Henry of Lancaster.[2] Normally a Duke’s heir- of royal lineage no less- would scarcely have considered such a match, but Henry’s cash-strapped regime badly needed the gold, and the prospect of an alliance with the powerful lord of Italy was too enticing to overlook. Giovanna’s dowry included the lordship of Avignon and eight hundred and fifty thousand florins to be paid in three installments. Scarcely two decades prior, Azzone’s sister Valentina had come to her husband Wenceslaus with a dowry of 400,000 florins, the county of Vertus in Champagne and the city of Asti in Piedmont; while Giovanna’s dowry had been inflated to compensate for her illegitimacy, the match nevertheless clearly demonstrated the rapid rise of the family fortunes. Although not formally allying with England or even the House of Lancaster- ambassadors did proclaim a personal friendship between Azzone and Henry and “goodwill” between the nations- the two parties did discuss a potential pledge “to defend our lands and estates from usurpers.” This was taken in England to refer to a defense pact against Louis of Orleans, but Azzone- while certainly far more sympathetic to the Burgundians than the Orleans- also hoped to align England against Germany; indeed, his missives suggested a reinvigorated Anglo-French truce and even a potent Anglo-Burgundian-Lombard alliance against the Duke of Guelders and the putative Emperor Rupert of the Palatinate, which would also serve to enmesh France within the Rhineland and thereby pressure Germany into accepting Visconti demands. Indeed, Azzone reiterated his family’s ties to both Bavaria and France by securing a betrothal between his nephew Matteo of Lombardy and the Princess Catherine of Valois, daughter of Charles the Mad and Isabella of Bavaria; clearly, he presumed (incorrectly) that the Anglo-French truce established at Leulinghem was still binding, and the two powers could be readily aligned with Italy and against Germany. Such designs depended greatly on the influence of Philip of Burgundy, the principal architect and beneficiary of the peace with England, and a key player in both French and German-Imperial politics owing to his extensive estates in the Low Countries. Widely respected as one of Europe’s leading statesmen, the venerable Philip of Burgundy had lived enough to see much of his ambitions in France destroyed by his king’s madness and his cousin’s ambitions, passing away in 1404; with him passed the betrothal and the immediate opportunity for a lasting Italo-French alliance. The Prince of Italy had a poor understanding of French internal politics, for Louis of Orleans was rapidly ascending to control the court and replacing the aging Philip as the dominant figure in France; Louis, after seizing total control of France after Philip’s death, reacted to the English betrothal by convincing his brother Charles to break off the match between Catherine of France and Matteo Visconti, even deigning to besiege Avignon in a faltering and failed attempt at reinstating the Avignon Papacy.
Despite being one of the most eligible bachelors in Europe, Louis of Orleans had not taken a wife until his late twenties. In part this was due to his own misfortune, admittedly somewhat self-inflicted- he had been engaged to a Savoy as the preliminaries for his invasion of Italy, but the marriage had not been consummated before her death. Louis returned from a lengthy captivity in Italy chastened and humiliated, but with his energies undimmed. Although resenting the deposition of Avignon pope Benedict, he rapidly acclimated to the tectonic shift in French politics underlying the Burgundian coup de grace by diverting his ambitions in new directions: defeated in the south, his ambitions shifted north towards the Rhineland. Duke William I of Guelders and Julich had enticed Europe by his reckless defiance of the French. King Charles himself led a royal army into Germany in 1388; though unable to bring Guelders to battle and stymied by the poor logistics of the Ardennes, William had been forced to give personal submission to Charles, which in practice amounted to little more than face-saving excuse for the French to depart with dignity. For this resistance and his personal valor, his name was by the turn of the century a byword for chivalry amongst the French and Germans alike. His daughter moreover Margaret was an attractive bride for Louis, endowed with a rich dowry in a strategically vital portion of western Germany.[3] Ostensibly the match- by which Duke William agreed to reiterate his homage to Charles- was aimed against the English, who were themselves negotiating a possible match between Margaret and Henry of Monmouth, the Lord Regent’s eldest son and heir to the Duchy of Lancaster. In reality, the Duke Philip of Burgundy interpreted himself as the target, and he very likely was; William of Guelders was the heart of the anti-Burgundian axis in the Low Countries, as his wife was the daughter of Count of Holland, and it was clear that Louis intended to follow the Burgundian example and carve out a principality for himself in the Rhenish frontier. He had secured the purchase of Luxemburg from its destitute countess, and allied himself with the Metz dynasty of Lorraine, whose lands sat between the Burgundian territories in Belgium and Burgundy proper.
Louis’ machinations unfolded in the context of renewed hostilities with England. Isabella of France had arrived in England, along with her dowry, in 1398, greeted by Richard’s young son- her betrothed- Edward Prince of Wales. The Lancastrian coup the following year immediately and irreparably strained relations- the French, poorly understanding England’s radically different political context, misinterpreted the coup as driven by Richard’s reproachment with Paris and demonstrating the treacherous and warlike nature of the English. The Lord Regent Henry of Lancaster in truth desperately needed peace with France- his shaky administration was too financially strained to contemplate a renewal of hostilities on the mainland. Henry’s goals were principally to assert his own power in Britain; he decided, in 1400, to lead an army personally against the Scots, whose kingdom was traditionally viewed as de jure subject to England.
A longstanding ally of France, the complex internal politics of Britain’s northern kingdom were a major source of instability in both the British Isle and in Anglo-French relations. In January 1399, the aging incompetent King Robert III was dispossessed by his family with the support of prominent noblemen. A general counsel of Scotland abrogated Robert’s kingly authority and passed power to his eldest son, the twenty-one-year-old David Stewart the Duke of Rothesay, as Lieutenant; in practice power was shared between the prince and a council of “wise men” constituted from leading figures in the realm. Two factions emerged within the nobles- one around King Robert’s brother, also named Robert, the Duke of Albany; the other faction was led by the Black Douglases, a dynasty founded by the venerable Archibald ‘the Grim’, Earl of Douglas. A bastard by birth, in his youth he had pressed his claim to the extensive Douglas estates in southern Scotland, fending off the claims of the legitimate line of Red Douglases. In 1400 he had married his daughter to the Duke of Rothesay, binding his line to the royal house of Stewart. At the time of the marriage Rothesay had been betrothed to- and indeed, had been cohabitating with- the daughter of George Dunbar the Earl of March, one of the Douglases’ only rivals in Southern Scotland. The Earl immediately fled to England and offered his services to Henry IV, demanding retribution for the insult done to his daughter. In the weeks following the Earl’s departure, the Douglases seized his estates and became the undisputed power in Southern Scotland. The Douglas clan traditionally favored an aggressive policy towards England, as they were the patrons of the border lords, who depended economically and politically on the prospect of booty seized from the endemic border warfare. These men had strongly resisted French pressure to acknowledge the truce with England, preventing Robert III from accepting the peace of Paris in 1396 and instead formulating a tenuous truce which had to be renewed periodically.
Henry’s coup in 1399 posed too good of an opportunity to renew hostilities. The Scots, urged on by Douglas, launched an extensive raid against Northern England in 1400, ostensibly as punishment for the Earl of Dunbar’s defection. Henry decided to respond personally, announcing his intention to lead an army into Scotland before Parliament. Simultaneously his ambassadors opened talks with the Scots, which proved fruitless due to extravagant English demands. Henry was unwilling to accept Edward II’s 1328 Treaty of Northampton, by which he would have formally acknowledged Scottish independence; although England had tacitly acknowledged Scottish sovereignty by accepting their right to engage in foreign diplomacy, formal recognition of Scottish independence would have meant abandoning Edward III’s later conquests, including the surrender of the three castles of Berwick, Roxburgh, and Jedburgh, still in possession of the English, as well as surrendering traditional English claims to the rich Scottish lowlands, territory formerly part of the Kingdom of Northumbria and claimed by Edward III in 1334. Henry IV, as regent, depended greatly on his image as a defender of English rights and interests, and he could not afford to be seen capitulating to Scotland.
On August 6, Henry issued letters at Carlisle demanding that Robert III do homage to his nephew King Edward IV of England. He and his army of 13,000 subsequently invaded Scotland, one of the largest armies fielded in the British Isles in more than a century of constant warfare. But the army’s size was its weakness: Henry had no siege engines, and although occupying Edinburgh city without a struggle he found the citadel firmly garrisoned and was forced to withdraw without any territorial gains, securing only a vague promise of homage. Within six weeks of Henry’s withdrawal the Earl of Douglas was pillaging northern England again. France watched impotently from across the channel, unable to break through the English blockade and poorly informed of British affairs.
Henry faced a far more dangerous threat from Wales. On September 16, 1400 Owen Glendower was proclaimed Prince of Wales in his manorial estate, surrounded by friends and kinsmen. Within days he was attacking English settlements throughout the region, prompting further rebellions led by Glendower’s kinsmen and allies Rhys and William ap Tudor, brothers who claimed descent from the last native Princes of Wales. On September 24 Glendower was routed near Welshpool, melting into the mountains and forests. The rebellion was only just beginning.
Wales was in this era a colonial society. Poor, sparsely populated, rugged, and dispersed, it suffered from the endemic administrative difficulties of all mountainous regions- banditry, lack of arable agricultural land, large and difficult terrain separating major communities. These problems were exacerbated by the domineering English occupation and the general circumstances of the time. The piecemeal conquest of the territory had left behind a complex and inefficient feudal administration, many provinces bestowed as political favors to absentee English overlords with little regard for government efficiency; these same lords in turn tended to view their Welsh estates solely as an extractive source of revenue. Despite being one of the poorest provinces in England, Wales suffered some of the highest tax rates, notwithstanding plummeting population and severe agricultural depression. Welsh and English were subject to different laws, and Welshmen were not represented in Parliament for another century. Worse, England founded numerous plantations of English immigrants, fortified communities given special privileges and choice lands and offices.
Traditionally, local risings had been contained through the fragmented nature of the principality but also a degree of judicial patronage for prominent Welsh families. Welsh longbowmen provided a key military asset in English wars on the continent, serving another valuable release for the tensions created by a restive and belligerent agrarian population. England’s defeats in France and the truce had reduced the traditional opportunities for plunder and pay overseas, even as declining agricultural production further squeezed the principality. The overreaction to Glendower’s abortive rising worsened the situation, as new restrictions were placed barring Welshmen from participation in government offices, residency in Welsh towns, possessing castles or military arms. These measures enflamed tensions and ensured that Glendower’s revolt gathered momentum even after his early defeat. These measures were worsened by Henry’s decision to personally take up government of the principality- perhaps as a prelude to naming himself Prince of Wales- for the Lord Regent was an obdurate and inflexible politician lacking any nuanced understanding of the situation on the ground. Wales festered in rebellion for much of the next decade. Decentralized and lacking siege artillery or ships, the Welsh could do little to the fortified towns and strongholds of the English; at the same time, the diffuse rebel bands easily avoided the lumbering English armies, striking at caravans and vulnerable homesteads in the countryside.
The situation became critical in 1401 owing to further developments in Scotland. In Autumn 1401 Rothesay was overthrown, imprisoned, and murdered in a coup d’etat orchestrated by the Duke of Albany and the Earl of Douglas. The two men, resenting the prince’s assertive governance, colluded to bully the feckless King Robert into authorizing the imprisonment of his own son. Rothesay was seized in October 1401, and eventually starved to death on Albany’s orders on about March 26, 1402. The coup immediately led to a more aggressive attitude towards England, probably at the insistence of Earl of Douglas. Rothesay was absent at a peace conference held by the border on October 17, 1401, which was instead dominated by the Earl and his followers. The Scots flatly rejected English demands for sovereignty and the conference reconvened at the church of Carham, where negotiations broke down completely in the face of Douglas’s belligerent attitude and the presence of his army across the river in Scotland. Douglas refused to extend the truce until Christmas, and upon its expiration invaded England three weeks later, taking up the cause of Thomas Ward, an impersonator of the late Richard II of England, further dispatching envoys to France insisting on a renewal of the alliance.
In 1402, Louis attempted for the first time to orchestrate an invasion of England. He pressured his brother into appointing him President of the Conseil-General des Aides and thereafter forcing through a new taille of 1,200,000 to 1,300,000 francs, a 60% increase in royal taxation. Yet Louis had overreached himself, failing to account for the Duke of Burgundy or the rising unpopularity of harsh wartime taxation. In May 1403 Philip pressured Louis, via a public letter, into withdrawing the taille, and in June, after a personal entry into the capital and difficult negotiations with the King, which removed Louis from power but did little to address the underlying tensions.
In England the Welsh rising continued to sap the strength of the Kingdom. Despite increasing the garrisons, Henry’s government found it impossible to root out Glendower and his followers, who pillaged the boroughs and hinterlands of towns such as Cardiff and Newport. In mid-September Henry himself was with his army in Wales, trudging through torrential rain in a vain hunt for the Welsh rebels, when he received word of ten thousand Scots crossing the border.
English defense was led by the Earl of Northumberland, accompanied by his son, the famous Hotspur, and the Earl of Dunbar. The English had at most four thousand men, including 3,000 archers and perhaps less than this, and adopted the strategy Hotspur had attempted in 1388. The Scots were left to advance unmolested, and then attacked on their withdrawal. In 1388 the English had been defeated at Otterburn attempting this strategy, but this time they would prove more successful. On September 14, 1402, Northumberland’s army arrayed itself behind a small river, while Douglas dismounted his forces and arrayed them on the bank of a hill. At the Earl of Dunbar’s insistence, the English sent their archers forward first, inflicting substantial casualties on the Scots and putting them to rout. The battle of Humbleton Hill was one of the few to be won entirely by archery, and crippeled Scotland for a generation. The Earl of Douglas was captured along with many of his followers, who would be destined to remain prisoners of the English for many years to come.
Henry moved quickly to exploit the victory, barring the ransoming of politically important prisoners and showering Percy and Dunbar with gifts and praise. The leading prisoners, including Earl of Douglas, were taken back to London and paraded in front of the crowds, alongside a military parade honoring the two generals. In the midst of the festivities, Henry announced that he intended to take the field in person and lead a new campaign into Scotland. Henry had ample reason to justify his war diplomatically- the Scots had deliberately abrogated the truce to expire and refused to acknowledge “just” English claims of sovereignty. Politically, an invasion would give outlet to the ambitions of the powerful Percies, who had grown disgruntled by the Lord Regent’s favoritism towards their regional rivals, the Nevilles.[4]
Ultimately, Henry’s second Scottish campaign was delayed for lack of funds for more than three years. England faced a serial escalation of the war at sea. By 1405, after the initial crisis in Wales had passed and the war in the Channel was winding down, Henry’s finances were finally secure enough to marshal his army; he was undoubtedly aided by the arrival in late 1405 of Henry of Monmouth’s bride Giovanna Visconti, with her dowry and wedding gifts, undoubtedly stiffened his resolve. The Bastard of Naples brought with her eighteen Genoese Carracks, immense war ships unlike anything the English possessed, and four heavy bombards, dubbed the Four Apostles, cast from the Milanese armories. The manufacture and use of cannon was a highly technical industry, requiring skilled metallurgy and capable engineering. Burgundy had the best cannonsmiths in Europe, but the forges of Rhenish Germany and Lombardy were also well regarded; England had nothing of the sort. Henry had learned from the logistical difficulties of his prior invasion, and determined to split his armies, commanding half of the forces himself in a march on Edinburgh and allowing Hotspur to command another army in an invasion of Galloway.
Dunbar Castle had resisted Henry in his prior invasion, but the addition of siege guns proved an insurmountable advantage. Within two weeks of the attack, the castle was forced to surrender. Earl of Dunbar was invested with the castle and charged with holding it for his sovereign Edward IV, King of England and Scotland. Henry found as much success in his attack on Edinburgh. The city was taken unopposed, and the garrison again besieged. As at Dunbar, the use of cannon against medieval castles proved decisive; Edinburgh Castle too was forced to submit after four and half weeks of bombardment. Dumfries was the site of Robert the Bruce’s first triumph; its conquest, along with the loss of the royal capital, shocked the Scots. Although Henry was forced by lack of fund and continued unrest in Wales to withdraw from Scotland after Edinburg’s fall, indeed, their missives to France grew increasingly desperate, insisting that unless their old alliance was honored that the kingdom would surely be lost.
England and France had until this point avoided overt hostilities, as neither party wished to be seen breaking the truce. England’s invasion of Scotland, for all of Henry’s prevarications, was predictably taken in Paris as a violation of the terms of Leulinghem, justifying further hostilities in the eyes of Louis of Orleans, by now the principal advocate for renewed war with England. The French responded initially with a general escalation of piracy, benefiting from political developments in Brittany, one of France’s major maritime provinces. The Duchess Regent Joan of Navarre married Henry of Lancaster in 1403. Her departure decisively shifted the province against the English, escalating a pirate war which proved costly for both Brittany and England.
Louis stood to personally benefit from open confrontation- beyond justifying the harsh taxation necessary to finance his lifestyle, war with England would benefit him personally. Louis owned Angouleme and Perigord and was allied to the Count of Armagnac and Albret and had additionally received the Duchy of Guyenne from his brother Charles. He had further allied with the House of Foix and supported their claims in Aragon, financing the war in Spain with an annual stipend from the royal treasury; this by and large suited the Armagnac, since it forestalled Foix ambitions against the County of Comminges. Louis could thus boast of having unified much of the southern nobility in a personal alliance, and he was determined to utilize their extensive networks to further his own glory.
The Duke of Orleans’ ambitions inflamed the intricate and explosive feudal kinship networks of the Languedoc, which had by now ensnared the Spanish in the broader Anglo-French conflict. James of Urgell, who had vainly married his daughter off to the Visconti Duke of Tuscany, was defeated and killed by the Navarrese in 1401; nevertheless, the Count of Foix faced a far more persistent enemy in the Castillan Trastamara. Ferdinand, brother to King Henry and his English wife Catherine of Lancastr, successfully invaded and claimed Valencia in 1399 and continued to harry the north well into the next century, finally securing a match with Foix’s daughter for his young son in 1402 as the price of preserving Foix control over the northern kingdoms. Having broken his family fortunes and his own health in pursuit of the Aragonese Crown, Foix himself died deeply in debt and lame from his injuries in 1403, leaving a three-year-old son Gaston to take up the cause. The Middle Ages were not especially kind towards underage monarchs; Gaston- and his claim- were quickly brushed aside by the Castillians, who on June 15, 1403 entered Barcelona in triumph. Ferdinand proclaimed his son’s betrothed as Queen of Aragon and himself as regent. Little is heard thereafter of the unfortunate Gaston of Foix, who perished of unknown causes shortly after his sister’s elevation.
Gaston’s death ended the house of Foix in the main line and created a new flashpoint in French relations vis a vis both England and Spain. The late Count territory was claimed by his sister Isabella’s husband Archambaud of Grailly. Although traditionally Anglophile, like most families in the region the Graillys had one foot in both camps; Archambaud was especially nervous as to the growing detente between Castille and England. The Lord Regent Henry of Lancaster was not willing to back the Grailly claims to the Foix inheritance without a renunciation of their claims in Aragon, for Grailly’s long loyalty was not worth provoking Spain- his own sister, after all, was married to King Henry of Castille. Louis of Orleans was less circumspect- first offering to support Ferdinand’s claim to the Foix inheritance in return for an alliance against England, before finally backing Archambaud of Grailly and coercing him into defecting to the allegiance of France. Archambaud did homage to Charles in Paris on August 22, 1403, delivering up two of his sons as hostages. In truth Archambaud’s defection did little to advance France’s cause in Gascony; the bulk of his estates were seized by the English, although the fall of the Poitevin fortress of did incite serious panic in Gascony as to the duchy’s long-term viability. Henry eventually dispatched his seventeen-year-old son Henry of Monmouth to Bordeaux in August 1403 along with additional soldiers.
Azzone Visconti studiously ignored events to the west, for his energies were wholly focused on resolving the Schism. Despite the renewed tensions with France, after the death of the exiled Benedict Louis agreed to host a joint conclave after receiving a personal plea from Azzone. Having met and befriended the prince during his captivity, Louis had a grudging personal respect for the Prince. Azzone played readily upon the man’s vanity, offering a marriage betrothal for his nephew Matteo and Louis’ infant daughter. His offer of alliance also tacitly carried the threat of an Italian invasion of southern France, for Louis was by now in desperate need of ships and overly burdened with enemies and could not afford to risk a possible Anglo-Italian alliance by snubbing Pavia so blatantly. Above all, the death of the deposed and exiled Benedict in 1404 further emphasized the futility of clinging to Avignon’s legacy. Between them, the Valois and the Visconti were able to assemble a general conclave encompassing most of the sitting cardinals in Europe, bypassing a General Council on the grounds that there were no sitting emperors or Popes able to convene it; this suited both the French and the Italians, for the Conclave of 1404 was predominately a Franco-Italian affair- of thirty-four cardinals, eleven were French and seventeen Italian; of the remainder, three were Spanish, one Scottish, one German, and one English. The Iron Conclave was unapologetically political- by tacit agreement, a Frenchman was selected, and sworn to rule from Rome rather than Avignon. The choice was the thirty-five-year-old Louis of Bar, brother of the Duke and nephew of King John II of France; he took up residence in Rome at the back of a Visconti army and over the corpses of at least a score of Roman Ghibellines, for the elevation of a Frenchman was not well received in the Eternal City.
Azzone’s decision to unilaterally elevate a new Pope alongside the French immediately soured relations with Sigismund of Hungary. The Hungarian king, having defeated his brother Jobst and taken control of Bohemia, finally felt secure enough to negotiate with the lord of Italy on an even footing. Sigismund had some reason to believe that Azzone would be open to an alliance. The two men were both veterans of the Macedonian Crusade, and- notwithstanding the Confederal League- Sigismund believed that both could profit by a joint war of conquest against the Republic of Venice. Since 1404, Azzone personally ruled the city of Genoa, Venice’s longstanding maritime rival. the Venetians had exploited the fratricidal Luxemburg conflict to conquer Dalmatia, and Sigismund wanted it back- he had secretly approached Azzone with an offer of partitioning the Serene Republic, whereby Friuli and the Veneto would be conquered by Lombardy and Istria and Dalmatia partitioned out between Sigismund and the Duke of Austria; Venice’s overseas territories in Albania and the Aegean would be granted to the Genoese as Lombard vassals. Yet Sigismund had misjudged the Prince of Italy- ambitious as he was, Azzone recognized that allies were to be well treated or destroyed. Sigismund’s offer insulted his pride and triggered his paranoia, for the Prince felt that all of Venice belonged to him if it was to be conquered- his own wife, after all, had sold Venice her claim to Dalmatia. Nevertheless, Azzone was willing to discuss terms, and it was agreed that Azzone Visconti, along with his ally Duke Ernest of Bavaria, would meet with Sigismund in the Styrian border town of Ljubljana on April 5, 1406.
Immediately the meeting was set poorly by the Italian refusal to acknowledge either Sigismund or Rupert as Emperor, derisively referring to both men as usurpers; the system established by the Golden Bull was denounced as merely bestowing the German crown, not the Italian crown- and certainly not the Imperial title- absent a Papal coronation. Azzone clearly wanted imperial recognition and was ultimately prepared to offer Italy’s nominal submission, but he wanted more than the Iron Crown, which he felt his family already possessed by right of conquest and acclamation. He demanded the abolition of the Electorates of Cologne and Trier, Arch-Chancellors respectively of Italy and Burgundy, to be replaced by royal electorates held by his nephew Matteo as King of Italy and himself as King of the Arelate. A third new electoral kingdom would be established for his brother-in-law the Duke of Bavaria, replacing the Palatinate, which was in rebellion; together with recognition of his nephew Charles as King of Bohemia, this would have given Duke of Bavaria five out of seven electorates supporting his candidacy for the Imperial Throne- an impossible demand for Sigismund, who viewed his claim as far superior.
The question of Sigismund’s status (alongside that of Rupert) ultimately created an irreconcilable difference between the parties. As Sigismund himself exasperatedly noted, the Lombards could not simultaneously deny his legitimacy (and that of Rupert) while also seeking investiture by his hand. Yet the Italians had little immediate alternative. To acknowledge Sigismund (or Rupert) as Emperor would mean submitting to his overlordship and allowing foreign interference in Italy- this the Visconti were not prepared to accept under any circumstances. Only the Italian Crown, and the privileges associated with an Electorate, would forestall future attempts at German interference in Italian affairs. Azzone therefore saw his demands as a necessary precondition to “correct” the imbalance in the Imperial College, secure his dynastic autonomy, and advance his kinsmen’s interests within the Empire.
The Bavarians likewise found it prudent to challenge the Golden Bull of 1356. Duke Ernest of Bavaria was eager and willing to stand for election, but even counting Bohemia he could rely upon only two of the seven electorates established by the Golden Bull supporting his candidacy, compared to his cousin’s four Rhenish electors, and the two electors were an underage nephew and an in-law; he therefore necessarily demanded, following the Italian line, to consider Rupert’s backers as in rebellion and disbar them from the next election. The remaining three electorates could then secure Ernest’s elevation, backed by a powerful Italo-Hungarian axis, and force a settlement within Germany. The prospect of such an accord failed to account for Sigismund’s own ambition and paranoia, enflamed by Azzone’s open pretensions as “Prince” of Rome, uncomfortably close to the traditional honor of King of the Romans bestowed to an Emperor-Elect before his coronation.
Sigismund, like Azzone, ultimately needed a Pope or an Imperial Election to legitimize his authority- for he could not act against half the Imperial Electoral College without damaging his own claim to the Imperial Throne; yet, Sigismund was unwilling to accept a General Council, fearing- correctly- that Azzone’s dynastic ties with England and France and his control over Rome and Avignon would undercut Sigismund’s claim to supreme authority in Europe. The Golden Bull was the pinnacle of Luxemburg power and prestige- to alter the Electoral College in such a nakedly partisan fashion struck against centuries of conservative German political jurisprudence. Moreover, the German electors still considered themselves the joint co-stewards of the Empire, and haughtily assumed that Italy, as a crown in longstanding personal union with their own, was theirs to dispose of as they pleased; Azzone’s claims had no independent legal basis beyond his father’s election and the dubious argument based on the office of Imperial Vicar, neither of which were accepted by the German nobility, who maintained that they alone could elevate an Emperor to the throne of Charlemagne. Negotiations stalled and faltered on the intractable dilemma of homage- Azzone continually refused to accept Sigismund as Emperor, and Sigismund refused to accept any of the Visconti titles (he would derisively refer to Azzone exclusively as the Count of Nizza) without at least nominal submission. As negotiations stalled, tempers flared in the summer heat, and flashpoints pushed the two men towards confrontation.
Both Azzone and Sigismund had brought extensive retinues with them to Ljubljana, as befitting their status as putative kings. These men were typically paid by their masters, but- in feudal tradition- owed cascading oaths of allegiance down a chain of feudal retainers. In practice a king could never exercise total control over his vassal’s vassals and had to account for familial grudges and other parochial ties and tensions. As it happened, several of Azzone’s Neapolitan retainers had fought against Sigismund’s predecessor and father-in-law Louis the Great of Hungary, whose rampant looting and harsh reprisals against Joanna I’s partisans had made him deeply unpopular in Italy. The Hungarians in contrast greatly esteemed Louis, and by extension cherished his daughter- Sigismund’s wife Mary- and her young son Louis, some among them even considering the boy the rightful ruler of Naples. [5] Idle soldiers are prone to both drink and gambling; one such incident, in which a certain Ioan of Transylvania and his compatriots, resulted in the death of one Neapolitan, and wounds to two more; both Ioan and three Hungarians were injured in the altercation. Azzone, on learning the news, was predictably furious, but decided to broach the matter with Sigismund as a gesture of good faith; under feudal law a noble was expected to be tried by his superior. Sigismund complied, but refused to enact the death penalty or any harsh punishment, instead levying a fine for drunkenness- on the grounds that the Italians had provoked his vassal. It has been alleged that Sigismund had owed a debt to Ioan from their time on crusade, or perhaps that he simply wished to snub the Italians; alternately, Sigismund may simply have refused to punish a retainer on the dubious and contradictory testimony of men who were arguably traitors and certainly foreigners.
Azzone’s own retainers then, we are told, took matters into their own hands, for Ioan was emboldened by his escape from punishment and returned to gambling. Two days after Sigismund’s judgment the Lombards accused him of cheating at dice and stabbed him to death; for this Azzone offered no punishment, claiming- in mirror to Sigismund’s own ruling- that his killers had been provoked. By itself, the entire incident may have been forgotten, except that, in the following week, one of Sigismund’s own bodyguards succumbed to an unknown ailment. Italian chroniclers insist that the man died of disease, but Sigismund suspected poison, and- now convinced that the Lombards were scheming to kill him- decided to react viciously and dispose of the threat. He determined, on September 1, 1406, to seize the Italians by force. He determined to surround and seize the two men after a morning mass at the church.
In the event Azzone himself escaped the plot only through blind chance. We are told that the Prince’s horse stumbled and lamed itself in the woods during an early morning hunt, delaying his return. While tending the animal his party was attacked by a group of Germans; one of his retainers gave the Prince his horse and the Lombards scattered into the wilderness. Azzone and three of his companions, including his bastard son Ferdinando, escaped and were able to reach Trieste after a harsh two days of riding; another of his sons, the eldest bastard Luca, was not so fortunate, and was captured by Sigismund’s forces, eventually dying of his injuries despite the ministrations of Sigismund’s own surgeon. Ernest of Bavaria was also among the captives taken that day. All told between one hundred and two hundred-fifty men perished, and at least eighty captives, predominately lords and nobles of note, were captured. Sigismund’s gamble had failed.
Returning to Italy by ship, Azzone immediately determined on war, yet he was also determined to make his case. On October 22, 1406, he convened the Lombard Senate in his nephew’s name. Dutifully, the Prince’s lawyers recited the old claims: the Lombards had taken the crown as imperial vicars in the absence of a sitting Emperor after Wenceslaus’s murder and deposition; Sigismund was the unlawful King of Hungary, owing to the proper claims of the late Joanna and her brother Charles; the Germans had no claim to the Imperial title absent a Papal coronation, and sought to despoil and pillage Italy for their own gains- homage to the old fears of furor teutonicus, which was weaved into a long and somewhat disingenuous litany of continual “oppression” by successive Imperial dynasties, from the Ottonians to the Staufers. Sigismund and his German allies, the Prince warned, would deny the “liberty” of the Lombards, the aristocratic privilege of participating in government alongside their liege; worse, they would impose heresy, denigrating the Papacy in favor of regional archbishoprics and royal churches. The Prince was not merely preparing to claim the Hungarian throne- his ambitions now sat much higher. The issue of the Papal coronation was merely a formality from the German perspective, but it was a formality deeply rooted in tradition, and the old Guelph claims to Papal supremacy over the secular powers of the Emperors. Azzone Visconti was not merely determined to make war for Hungary- he wanted to destroy the pretensions of German power over Italy or supremacy in Europe.
On Christmas Day 1406, six-hundred-six years to the day after Charlemagne’s coronation, Azzone Visconti greeted Pope twelve miles from the Aurelian Walls, twice the normal distance given to a King. He was greeted in the traditional manner of an emperor, having his horse led into the city by the Pope after kneeling and receiving benediction outside the walls. After a Mass in St Peter’s Basilica, Azzone knelt before the Pope and received a crown made specially for the occasion along with the title of Holy Roman Emperor.
[1]This fellow is my mashed-together name for an alt-historical Humanist thinker in the vein of Machiavelli or Guiccicardini
[2]This is the OTL Henry V, of Agincourt fame. We will be hearing more of the man in time.
[3]I toyed with the possibility of a Gelre-centered Netherlands-Westphalia in my initial timeline, and am eager to diverge fairly early with some of the “might have been” dynastic states of the period. We’ll be hearing more from the lords of Gelders-Julich in the future.
[4] Note that the Percy rebellion has not occurred. Lord Regent Henry, Duke of Lancaster stands on firmer political and economic footing than King Henry IV, regicide and usurper. This, and the dowries of Isabella and Giovanna, give him a much firmer financial status, which translates into a more aggressive foreign policy.
[5]Although the House of Luxemburg had terrible luck with children, Mary’s death (alongside that of her premature baby boy) was far too contingent to be guaranteed to happen. Both have survived TTL and are alive at the time of this meeting.
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The Hundred Years War continues to take up quite a lot of time.
Maps are still a pain. I started to make one but didn't finish yet. For all intents and purposes, Henry's invasion of Scotland has succeeded (for now) in conquering much of the Scottish Lowlands claimed by Henry III.
Maps are still a pain. I started to make one but didn't finish yet. For all intents and purposes, Henry's invasion of Scotland has succeeded (for now) in conquering much of the Scottish Lowlands claimed by Henry III.
Assuming Castile or Portugal start getting powerful through their colonial empires, could Lombardy (that's what I'll call the Visconti entity at this point) try to ally with either one of them? Because if they're going to get that wealthy the Visconti might as well try to benefit from it right?
Portugal is direct competition for the Spice Trade. I intend for Spain and Italy/Lombardy to be major rivals in the Early Modern period, much as Spain and France were OTL.
Lombardy/Italy will probably be about as interchangeable as England/Britain in common parlance, and for much the same reasons.
Lombardy/Italy will probably be about as interchangeable as England/Britain in common parlance, and for much the same reasons.
So, Spain, France and England fight in the west, Italy, Hungary and Germany fight in the east. Europe War I starts?
States don't really have the capacity for prolonged warfare in this period (though they can be at war intermittently for prolonged periods) . The Hyw did involve Spain heavily OTL, and to a lesser extent Italy and Germqny as well.
By the way, any chance the Genoese (backed by Visconti) take the Canaries ITTL? I assume that the OTL discovery by Lanzarotto Malocello has happened, but what about the OTL Norman conquest by Jean de Bethencourt?