Teutonic Knights (23 page)

The decorations of the palace, the chapels, and the cathedrals were not slavish copies of Italian and French models, but rather adaptations suitable to the climate and building materials available in Prussia. The lack of stone, for example, presented challenges to the sculptors who were to ornament the altars, walls, and doorways. The methods chosen were diverse: some artists applied stucco, others terracotta; a few imported limestone from Gotland; and some used linden wood. Unfortunately, few statues have survived the centuries in good condition. Moisture attacked the wood and frescoes relentlessly. Stucco and terracotta, on the other hand, have proven resistant to the damp climate. Mosaics provided interesting wall and floor decorations. Although puritan restraint discouraged portraying animals, plants, or objects, the tile floors were both aesthetically satisfying and easy to clean.

In the cathedrals and abbeys throughout Prussia there was a strong emphasis on wall painting not found in the convents of the knights. This may seem surprising, since three of the four bishoprics were staffed by priests of the order, who presumably shared the same artistic tastes as the designers of the convent chapels. However, there was an important difference. In the cathedrals one saw the strong influence of Italy, Avignon, and Bohemia, which the bishops and individual canons visited more frequently than did the knights and priests in the convents. They were apparently greatly impressed by what they saw, especially during the reign of Charles IV, when Italian artists were active in Bohemia. They wanted high-quality reproductions of Bohemian triptychs and frescoes, altars and reliquaries. They imitated as best they could Charles’ jewelled chapel at Karlstejn, with its motifs of King Arthur. They patronised artists from Cologne and other German cities as well. The Marienburg Treasurer’s Book informs us that Grand Master Ulrich von Jungingen spent significant sums on sculptures, paintings, and illuminated manuscripts. Unfortunately only a few works of art of that time have survived, but if we dare extrapolate from those which did we conclude that the medieval holdings of the Prussian convents and churches must have been impressive. Where the quality was not so high, as was the case with a wall painting of a knight in a small church near Königsberg, the artist (or the patron) wrote: ‘Cursed be he who criticises this painting!’

Painting was less important and therefore less innovative than architecture for several reasons. Firstly, the officers of the Teutonic Order were less interested in religious art than were their bishops. Secondly, the order was relatively puritan in its attitude toward decoration. Poverty was the first vow taken by the members, a pledge shared by the Franciscans and Dominicans, the two dominant orders in Prussia. The Cistercians, the major order in northern Poland, relied heavily upon whitewash to give a mood of simplicity and austerity to their churches. And thirdly, the cultural imperialism by which the grand masters hoped to impress visiting crusaders, neighbouring princes, and enemy chieftains was best accomplished through monumental castles, not with delicate paintings or graceful statuary (and even less with poetry and music). Painting and carving had to take a secondary role in the cultural life of the convents.

This emphasis on the military arts might have been even stronger had the rules of the order permitted tournaments. Although grand masters often ignored the letter of the rules, in this case they chose not to engage in the expensive and distracting pastime of jousting; tournaments would not have escaped papal notice, nor could they be justified as training for warfare, and would hardly enhance the reputation of the order should its best knights fall before the lances of French, English, or Polish warriors!

The art and architecture of Prussia is simple to catalogue. There was the era 1300 – 50 that has been described above. A second distinct era lasted from 1400 to 1450, years of defeat and financial hardship for the Teutonic Order. Patronage in this later period came from the cities. Danzig became the cultural centre of all Prussia, followed by Thorn, Marienburg, Elbing, and Königsberg. A third era, 1500 – 50, reflected the dominance of humanistically trained scholars and the Protestant Reformation. This was also the period that saw the loss of many Gothic treasures. Riots accompanying the abandonment of Roman Catholicism ended with many of the finest paintings and sculptures of the fourteenth century destroyed in bonfires.

Further losses of cultural treasures came in the Thirty Years’ War, when Swedes carried away everything they liked, and during the wars of Frederick the Great and Napoleon. General neglect was perhaps even more destructive. Restoration efforts by nineteenth-century nationalists were often ill-conceived, telling us more about their artistic tastes than about the Middle Ages. Lastly, World War Two brought devastation to many castles, churches, and cities; much that survived was evacuated from Prussia and never returned. Happily, Polish restorers have made modern Danzig (Gdańsk) and Marienburg (Malbork) into tourist centres.

The art of the mintmaster made its first great strides during the reign of Winrich von Kniprode. Although the Teutonic Order had pursued a careful monetary policy for over a century, this had been confined to assuring that the various civic mints produced a uniform currency of 720 pence to the Mark. Many foreign pennies circulated in the cities, and only slowly did the order produce large quantities of its own
bracteats
(as the thin silver coins were called, a coin impressed so strongly on one side as to carry the pattern onto the reverse). Although we cannot determine the age or provenance of the majority of the
bracteats
, we know that mints existed in Culm, Thorn, Elbing, and other cities. Presumably those
bracteats
showing the order’s cross on a shield reflected a deliberate effort to publicise the crusade. That seems to be part of Winrich von Kniprode’s currency reform, which introduced the
Schilling
in about 1350. The
Schilling
was a large coin with the grand master’s shield and his name on the face, and a crusader’s cross on the reverse. A beautiful coin, minted twenty to the Mark, it was a propaganda triumph for the order, a visible reminder of the wealth of the state.

It comes as a surprise that the grand masters did not put their personal coats of arms on their coins, as the Livonian Masters did. That seems to be a concession to tradition, to avoid personal ostentation and sinful pride, and perhaps to emphasise the motto on the reverse, that each coin was ‘money of the Teutonic Order in Prussia’ and, therefore, could be relied upon.

Winrich von Kniprode lived at the right time to acquire a great international reputation. His era had honoured individual heroes such as the Black Prince, Bertrand du Guesclin, and Sir John Chandos, all of whom had served in the Hundred Years’ War. Perhaps contemporaries had honoured those knights because there were so few heroes left. New tactics introduced during the fighting between England and France had made it more difficult to become famous, with archers and gunners shooting down potential champions at long distance. War had become a serious business where knights were actually killed rather than held for ransom, where low-born soldiers thirsted more for booty than for glory. Even in the tournament professionals were discouraging amateurs from participating. Developments in Italy were just as disturbing. Towns and princes were hiring mercenaries to fight their wars, and many noble knights became no better than military merchants peddling their wares and services; and, because mercenaries wanted to live to earn a salary later, they avoided pitched battles and refused to defend inadequate fortresses to the utmost. Where was the hero who spent carelessly, indulged in gay song and banquets, and entered light-heartedly into battle against heavy odds, with little thought of the morrow so long as glory could be earned now?

The medieval concept of chivalry was declining as the calendar approached 1400. Where it still flourished it was becoming exaggerated and unreal, a reflection of literature, not of life. It did not matter that chivalry had rarely existed outside the minds of a few kings and poets; it had remained real to nobles and commoners who honoured its ideals and aspirations. Those men had dreamt of a great crusade in which their deeds would extinguish everything that was shoddy and commonplace in their lives, and would leave behind stories of valour to be remembered for all time.

The best a crusader could do now was to make an armed pilgrimage to Spain or Prussia, where at least the spirit of the crusades was still alive. Even if the goal lacked the emotional impact or the religious importance of reconquering the Holy Sepulchre, there was at least some satisfaction in striking a blow against enemies of the cross and protecting endangered Christians from strange and powerful foes. The Spanish crusade had the advantage of being easily reached by knights from Italy, France, and the British Isles. But the Spanish hit-and-run tactics were uncongenial to northerners. The tragic fate of the Scots bearing the heart of Robert de Bruce against the Moors was well known. Advancing steadily, the Scots had found themselves abandoned by their allies and surrounded by a sea of Moslem light cavalry. This was a weighty argument in favour of campaigning in Prussia.

The Teutonic Knights were fortunate in the growing wealth and trade of Prussia. Policies to encourage immigration and trade were now paying handsomely in taxes and cheap produce. Winrich von Kniprode never lacked for money to build great castles, to fill banquet halls with furniture and food, or to hire the services of entertainers. He offered the visitor an opportunity to meet great men from all parts of Europe, even dukes and heirs to crowns. A young knight might make valuable friendships. Most of all, he would return home with exciting stories of men and deeds to enliven the long winter evenings for decades to come. If the forays into Samogitia were manhunts, they were hunts for armed men of exceptional skill and tenacity. It was an honour to fight and defeat such noteworthy and valiant foes. Lastly, Winrich offered young noblemen a way to serve God by defending Christians against barbaric foes who threatened Germans and native converts with death and slavery. This world was slowly passing away. A new and more practical society was emerging.

The chivalric tradition was not altogether for the good. As knights succumbed to secular temptations, grand masters issued repeated injunctions against modish dress, against long hair, and against riding around the countryside to hunt or frequent inns. Nevertheless, despite such efforts and in spite of the ban on private property and money, individual knights acquired fur coats, pointed hats, and buckled shoes. Some even decorated their scabbards and painted their shields. The knights’ inability to maintain the outward traditions of their monastic calling was only a reflection of their inward failings.

Moreover, class traditions made the Teutonic Knights feel they were better than their subjects. As they behaved arrogantly toward their citizens (slighting their contributions to the crusade, raising new taxes, and quarrelling over the extent of their self-government), they slowly exhausted their moral capital and left behind a reputation for haughtiness and ambition. Among the nobles of the chivalric tradition, however, these very characteristics were proof of their superiority and worth. The Teutonic Knights were more concerned with the opinion of the visiting nobles. What their subjects thought, and what bourgeois historians of the future might write, were of little importance. Courage, prowess, and honour were all that really mattered.