10
After his humiliation on the Vorskla Vytautas settled with Muscovy in 1401 and turned his attention to relations with the Order. The price he had paid for its support was high, and the meagre benefits had not been worth the sacrifice of Samogitia. Moreover, if opinion among the Polish elites still favoured peace with the Order, attitudes were changing. Jagiełło had long pushed for a more hostile stance, while the issue of Dobrzyń had soured relations considerably since 1391, when Wladislaus of Oppeln, who held Gniewkowo and Dobrzyń as Polish fiefs, pawned Złotorija castle in Dobrzyń to the Order without Jagiełło’s permission. Jagiełło took swift military action to reclaim this vital fortress on the Vistula upstream from Thorn, one of the Order’s principal strongholds. Encouraged by Sigismund of Luxembourg, the Order occupied the territory of Dobrzyń, which Wladislaus had pawned to them in July 1392 for 50,000 florins.1 The seizure of Dobrzyń aroused great anger in Poland. Although most Małopolskan lords were more interested in the east, Jagiełło’s gradual construction of his own clientele had reduced his dependence on them, and there was a growing party that shared his concern at the Order’s actions.
These concerns were magnified when war broke out between Lithuania and the Order in March 1401. The cause was Vytautas’s refusal to return Samogitian refugees who had fled to Lithuania, as he was required to under the Salin treaty, claiming that they were not serfs but freemen who were not covered by the agreement.2 Discontent in Samogitia ran high as the Order imposed labour service on its previously free peasantry. In March 1401 resentment boiled over. The rebels turned to Vytautas, who almost certainly had encouraged them, and who offered support. The war was not intensive; an affair of raids and counter-raids, it peaked in 1402 when the Order’s army, with Švitrigaila in tow, attacked Vilnius, but with Vytautas easily suppressing the few pro-Order elements in his capital it sputtered out in inconsequential raiding. The rebels sacked Memel and harried the Order’s garrisons across Samogitia. Little substantial was achieved by either side; in May 1404 the peace of Raciążek restored the status quo. The Order returned Złotorija and Dobrzyń for a considerably lower price than it had paid. In exchange for keeping Samogitia it abandoned Švitrigaila, agreeing not to support rebellions by Jagiełło’s relatives.3
The war was of no great consequence, but revealed changing attitudes in Poland, and an embryonic sense of common Polish-Lithuanian purpose that worried the Order enough for it to return Dobrzyń. This was expressed more in diplomatic than military terms: Jagiełło sent 1,000 knights to support Vytautas, but majority opinion in Poland was wary of breaking the 1343 peace, and Polish diplomatic support was more important. It came at a price, however. An indication of the new climate was a document of 19 June 1403, in which Vytautas publicly swore his loyalty to Jagiełło, promising not to ally with the Order without his knowledge and agreement.4 Jagiełło, under pressure from the Polish council, was attempting to curb Vytautas—in public at least—and ensure that his independent foreign policy was consigned to the past.
The importance of Polish support was apparent in 1401, when Iurii Sviatoslavich, exploiting Lithuania’s distraction, seized Smolensk with the support of local princes, beating off a four-week siege led by Vytautas in the autumn. While Lithuania’s eastern borders were ably defended thereafter by Lengvenis and loyal Ruthenian princes, the blow to Vytautas’s prestige was significant. Another siege by Lengvenis failed to retake Smolensk, as did a seven-week attempt by Vytautas during the 1404 truce preceding the Raciążek treaty.5
Jagiełło’s support for Vytautas’s eastern adventures was limited. Taking advantage of the clauses in Raciążek dividing the east into spheres of influence between the Order and Lithuania, Vytautas turned again to the Order. Although he retook Smolensk in June 1404, Iurii asked Vasilii I for protection, and Lithuania faced full-scale war on its eastern frontier. At Kaunas in August 1404 Vytautas—ignoring the promises made to Jagiełło in Lublin the previous year—signed a new treaty with the Order establishing an alliance against all enemies except the Catholic Church, the Empire, and Jagiełło.6 Jagiełło reacted swiftly to rein him in, summoning him to Kamianets in distant Podolia where, on 19 September—a bare month after the Kaunas treaty—Vytautas had to swear a new oath of loyalty to Jagiełło and the corona regni, and to buttress his 1403 promises by abrogating all treaties contrary to the interests of Jagiełło and the corona regni.7 While the Kaunas treaty was not directly mentioned, it did not have to be. Jagiełło had given Vytautas a public warning that he could not repeat his adventurous policies of the 1390s.
The point had been made. Vytautas subsequently received Polish support for his eastern escapades, in which he enjoyed reasonable success. With Smolensk back under Lithuanian control, both Pskov and Novgorod accepted Lithuanian governors: Iury of Pinsk for Pskov and Lengvenis for Novgorod. Vasilii entered the war in 1406 in support of Pskov, but hostilities did not amount to much: Vytautas led an expedition against Moscow in 1408 with considerable military support from the Order and Poland, but he avoided open battle and signed a treaty on 14 September 1408 that proved remarkably durable, demonstrating that, with military support from Poland, and with realistic plans that avoided the hubris of the 1390s, Lithuania could sustain its position as the dominant power in the east.8
Vytautas again turned his gaze westwards. The extension of his authority over Pskov broke the Salin and Raciążek agreements over spheres of influence and indicates a subtle shift in the balance of power. He was aware of his need for Polish military support—several garrisons in the east largely comprised Polish troops—and of Jagiełło’s increased watchfulness. Yet the gains Vytautas stood to make from the Salin agreement made Raciążek bearable. Raciążek granted him little, but its failure to halt the deterioration in relations between Poland and the Order opened new prospects for Lithuania.
The Order was well aware of how the union had weakened it. In the 1390s, Vytautas’s headstrong ambition had provided considerable opportunities to sow the seeds of dissension, but for all that Vytautas displayed flashes of his old impulsiveness after 1401, Jagiełło’s increased watchfulness meant that his freedom of manoeuvre was considerably reduced, while the Order’s attempt to exploit Švitrigaila failed: unlike Vytautas, Švitrigaila had no political following and he was rapidly abandoned to tout his grievances to Muscovy—to which he fled in 1408—and to the Tatars.
The most important change, however, was the successful Christianization of Lithuania. By 1409 it was apparent that the Catholic Church had established firm institutional foundations and was successfully spreading the faith, undermining the Order’s claims that the conversion was opportunistic and cosmetic. Although the education of the masses was a slow process, there was negligible resistance among the elites. The advance of Catholicism in Lithuania was in stark contrast to the situation in Samogitia, where little progress had been made by the Order: in 1405 it twice had to ask for Vytautas’s help in putting down the unruly Samogitians under the terms of the Raciążek peace, which he duly provided.9 This failure contrasted with the successful Christianization of Aukštaitija and challenged the Order’s very raison d’être. The Polish church’s close involvement in the Christianization drew it into the controversy with the Order, in which Cracow University, refounded in 1400, provided intellectual ballast.10 The sense of engagement increased as Jagiełło promoted loyal churchmen of middling szlachta backgrounds who had served in the royal chancery to important ecclesiastical posts: Mikołaj Kurowski, successively bishop of Poznań (1395–99) and Cujavia (1399–1402), then archbishop of Gniezno (1402–11); the vice-chancellor, Mikołaj Trąba (1403–12), raised to the archbishopric of Halych in 1410; and Wojciech Jastrzębiec. While some bishops, including Piotr Wysz (Cracow), Jan Kropidło (Cujavia), and Jakub of Korzkiew (Płock), initially opposed war, they later changed their minds.11
Jagiełło’s ecclesiastical advisers conducted the propaganda battle against the Order, and Poland’s intricate diplomatic relations with it. The Polish church had long been less favourably inclined towards the Order than lay politicians, not least because of the perennial issue of ecclesiastical jurisdiction: considerable parts of the diocese of Cujavia lay within the Ordensstaat, while the bishopric of Culm, within the lands conquered by the Order in 1308–9, remained under Gniezno’s jurisdiction. Inevitably these arrangements brought friction. As relations with the Order worsened after 1386, the many ecclesiastics among Jagiełło’s closest political advisors helped form the more hostile policy he adopted after 1401.
It was not just churchmen who were concerned. The union provoked the Order into a new assertiveness. The acquisition of Dobrzyń—like the seizure of Samogitia—showed a desire to buttress its defences through territorial acquisition, as did its 1402 purchase of the Neumark from Sigismund of Luxembourg, which secured control of the routes from the Empire into its territory, cut off Wielkopolska from Pomerelia, and triggered disputes over the border strongpoints of Santok and Drezdenko on the Warta and Noteć rivers. In the increasingly tense atmosphere these disputes took on greater significance, as did the Order’s 1409 seizure at Ragnit of twenty ships containing Polish grain en route to Lithuania on the pretext that they contained arms for the Samogitian rebels.12 Yet the outbreak of war in 1409 had more to do with a conscious decision taken by Jagiełło and his Polish supporters that the time was ripe. The need to raise money for the purchase of Dobrzyń meant that for the first time since 1374 the king had to raise an extraordinary tax from the nobility, at a rate of 12 groszy per hide in addition to the poradlne. It was collected without difficulty; a total of 100,000 marks was raised, more than the 50,000 florins required. In June 1405 Dobrzyń was returned to Polish rule, but the episode turned many Poles against the Order.13 Times were changing. The death in 1405 of Jan Tęczynski, castellan of Cracow and a leader of Jadwiga’s party, symbolized the passing of the generation that had masterminded Krewo and dominated politics in its aftermath. Jagiełło’s careful use of his powers of appointment meant that the major offices of state and many of the most vital provincial offices, in particular the general starosties, were now held by royal supporters.14 He was in a position to move.
In December 1408 Jagiełło and Vytautas met in Navahrudak. The only source concerning this meeting is a report by Michael Küchmeister, governor of Samogitia, which says nothing about its outcome, although historians have traditionally assumed that a decision was taken to foment a new Samogitian uprising.15 This is a plausible inference: it was important to move quickly, since the Order was tightening its grip on Samogitia, having defeated the 1405 risings with the aid of Vytautas himself.16 There is no direct evidence confirming that Jagiełło supported this decision.17 Given the closer watch he had kept over Vytautas since 1401, however, and the fact that the Polish stance in negotiations with the Order hardened rapidly once the rebellion erupted in May 1409, it seems reasonable to suppose that Jagiełło approved Vytautas’s action in provoking it, and that his Polish advisors agreed.
When war broke out in the summer of 1409 residual Polish attachment to peace evaporated. The Samogitian uprising erupted in late May. It took Küchmeister completely by surprise: there was no hint that a rebellion was brewing in a letter he wrote to the Order’s marshal, Friedrich von Wallenrode, on 20 May.18 Jagiełło and Vytautas, in contrast, were well prepared, outmanoeuvring the Order in masterly fashion. Although Vytautas’s support for the rebels was known from an early date, until late July the Order’s leaders were not sure whether Poland was actively supporting the rising: one report suggested that Vytautas and Jagiełło had never had so many disagreements, which may indicate that the Poles were spreading disinformation.19 Meanwhile Jagiełło made sure that he had domestic backing for his aggressive stance. A general assembly in Łęczyca in July agreed to despatch an embassy to the Order; although no account of its other decisions survives, it seems that Jagiełło persuaded it to support Vytautas.20
When negotiations opened in Marienburg in late July, Polish support for Lithuania held firm. The Polish delegation, led by Kurowski, agreed to ask Vytautas to withdraw the administrators he had sent to Samogitia, but refused to give any guarantee of neutrality if the Order used force.21 According to Długosz, annoyed by the Order’s threats, Kurowski incautiously blurted out that if it declared war, Poland would support Lithuania, adding that: ‘Lithuania’s enemies are our enemies; if you attack them, we shall turn our arms against you’.22 Historians have doubted this claim, suggesting that it may have been invented for literary effect since it is not corroborated by other sources. Długosz states that it was unknown whether Kurowski said this on his own initiative, or whether he had been instructed to do so. Given Długosz’s close links to Oleśnicki, then a royal secretary, it is likely that he derived his knowledge of what was said from an informed source. If the tale is true, it is interesting that Oleśnicki was unsure as to whether Jagiełło was behind the outburst.
Whatever Kurowski said, the Order could only conclude from the uncompromising Polish stance that Polish support for Lithuania was likely. The outcome was Jagiełło’s first victory of the campaign. On 6 August 1409 grand master Ulrich von Jungingen informed him that, unable to secure any assurance from the Poles despite numerous requests not to support the Lithuanians, the Order had no choice but to declare war on Poland. Jagiełło had outmanoeuvred him. That the Order was the aggressor, through its declaration of war and invasion of Poland, in which it retook Dobrzyń and captured Bydgoszcz, was of great importance for rallying Polish support.23 Its breaking of a peace that had held for nearly seven decades gave the Poles an important advantage in the battle to influence opinion across Catholic Europe.
For Jagiełło and Vytautas faced serious challenges in convincing Catholic opinion of the justice of their war against the Order, which could claim not only that they were openly supporting a pagan revolt in breach of their treaty obligations, but also that they enlisted Orthodox ‘schismatics’ and Muslim ‘infidels’ in their armies. The Order could rely on Sigismund of Luxembourg, with whom it signed a preliminary alliance in October 1409, in which it agreed to pay him 300,000 florins and support the 10,000 troops he promised to raise to strike against southern Poland at a rate of 24 florins per lance should the Poles and Lithuanians deploy pagans against the Order.24 Sigismund’s brother Wenzel, king of Bohemia, was also favourably inclined towards the Order, as he demonstrated after mediating a truce signed on 8 October 1409 following the Polish recapture of Bydgoszcz. The truce was to last until 24 June 1410; Wenzel was to issue a judgement in February on the causes of the war as a basis for a peace settlement.
His judgement proved so favourable to the Order that the Polish delegation refused even to listen to it, on the grounds that it was to be read in German, a language they claimed not to understand. Their rejection of mediation ensured that hostilities would resume in the summer of 1410. When they did, the Order gained little from the Luxembourgs. The death of Rupert I, king of the Romans, in May 1410 ensured that the dynasty was dragged into the complex politics of the Empire: Sigismund’s election by a minority of the electors was challenged, before his cousin Jobst I, margrave of Moravia—supported by Wenzel—was elected in October.25
With the German princes distracted, Jagiełło and Vytautas quietly built support and neutralized the Order’s potential allies. While the Silesian Piasts favoured it, the Poles had more success among the Pomeranians. Swantibor III of Stettin, Bogislaw VIII of Stolp, and Wartislaw VIII of Wolgast all signed treaties promising to support the Order in 1409, but only Swantibor honoured their terms: Wartislaw remained neutral, while Bogislaw, in a major success for Polish diplomacy, joined the war against the Order. Janusz I of Mazovia opted early for the Polish-Lithuanian camp; if his brother Siemowit IV was reluctant, he eventually came out in somewhat grudging support, despatching his son Siemowit to command the troops he sent to fulfil his obligations as a Polish vassal. The greatest diplomatic coup was achieved by Vytautas, who negotiated a three-month truce with the Livonian Order in August 1409, which meant that Jungingen could not rely on a diversionary attack on Lithuania; it only expired after the start of the October truce. This did not extend to the Lithuanians, but although the Prussians raided Lithuania in early 1410, the Livonians showed no inclination to support them, and Vytautas was able to extend the Livonian truce from May 1410.26 Jagiełło and Vytautas had neutralized the Order’s diplomatic advantages. Denied Livonian support, it faced a war on two fronts without the ability to mount diversionary attacks on Lithuania from Livonia, or upon southern Poland, since Sigismund’s absorption in the politics of the Empire meant that the invasion on which the Order had counted came to naught.
The Order’s rule over the Prussian lands was based on a tiny core of several hundred full brothers and some 3,000 half-brothers. In the past it had relied on volunteers from across Europe to man its armies inspired by the crusading ideal that had brought Derby to the walls of Vilnius in 1390. Between 1409 and 1411, however, despite copious propaganda attacking Jagiełło’s dependence on pagans, schismatics, and infidels, the fact that the Order was waging war on a Catholic power meant that the flow of volunteers was far smaller than in previous years. It was able to raise troops from its traditional recruiting-grounds in the Empire, but most were mercenaries, who had to be paid. Its resources were stretched as never before.
The Order had nevertheless prepared well: if the Marienburg foundries produced cannon to the value of 60 marks between 1401 and 1403, by 1408–9, they were churning them out to the value of 1,4751/2 marks, with other preparations on a similar scale.27 As a military organization with well-oiled mechanisms for putting armies in the field, it was able to deploy its forces rapidly in August 1409, seizing the initiative by capturing Dobrzyń and Bydgoszcz. The Poles were slow to respond, but the recapture of Bydgoszcz checked the advance and led directly to the October truce, which gave Jagiełło and Vytautas time to assemble a large army and agree a strategy long before its expiry. When its size became apparent Jungingen considered breaking the truce with a surprise attack on Poland in early June 1410. When this had to be aborted, he used Hungarian mediators to secure an extension of the truce until 4 July.28
Jagiełło now took the initiative according to plans agreed in his discussions with Vytautas, and the vice-chancellor, Mikołaj Trąba, at Brest in late November and early December 1409.29 The Polish-Lithuanian army gathered at Czerwińsk, northwest of Warsaw, after the Poles crossed the Vistula on a pontoon bridge. On the truce’s expiry they moved north, crossing the border on 9 July, intending to strike at Marienburg through Kauernik. The army was well supplied and well equipped. When it found its way blocked at Kauernik, Jagiełło turned east, taking Gilgenburg and then, on the morning of 15 July, found the Order’s army deployed in rolling countryside near the villages of Grünfelde (today the Polish village of Grunwald) and Tannenberg (today the Polish village of Stębark) that were to lend their names to the campaign’s decisive battle in Polish and German respectively.
Jagiełło enjoyed a considerable numerical advantage. The size of the armies that fought at Tannenberg has long been a matter of dispute, with historians forced to make educated guesses to reach estimates more realistic than the fantastic numbers given in contemporary chronicles. The most reliable, based on the number of banners (companies) deployed, depend on the application of factors of multiplication to the number of lances—armed knights with their retinues—that banners were, in theory, meant to contain.30 Nadolski estimates that the Order’s force was around 15,000 strong, opposed by 20,000 Poles and 10,000 Lithuanians, a number that is considerably lower than Kuczyński’s regularly quoted estimate of 21,000 cavalry and 11,000 infantry in the Order’s army, and 29,000 cavalry, 10,000 infantry, and 10,000 camp followers in the Polish-Lithuanian force, based on the questionable methodology of comparing the general mobilization capacity of fifteenth-century states.31 These figures are optimistic. Ekdahl suggests 12,000–15,000 in the Order’s army and 20,000–25,000 in the Polish-Lithuanian force.32 Given that scholars seem not to allow for wastage rates, it might be prudent to accept the lower figures of Heveker and Kujot, who estimated the Order’s force at 11,000, and the Polish-Lithuanian force at 16,500, with Kujot suggesting 10,500 Poles and 6,000 Lithuanians.33
Whatever the truth, Tannenberg was a large battle by fifteenth-century standards. Both armies were armed and equipped in the latest western style: the core of each force comprised armoured knights, with the Order deploying field artillery. The Lithuanian army, containing Lithuanians, Ruthenians, and a Tatar unit, was largely light cavalry in the eastern style. The battle’s outcome demonstrated the old military truth that, on the whole, larger armies defeat smaller forces. In its initial phase the Lithuanians on the union army’s right engaged first. After fierce fighting they withdrew from the battlefield; whether this was a planned manoeuvre or a flight, is disputed. Although there is good cause for scepticism concerning the ability of such a large force to accomplish such a complex tactic after an hour of hard fighting, one contemporary source suggests that some units—possibly the Tatars—may indeed have deliberately retreated.34 Whatever the reality, Vytautas rallied some of his Lithuanians and returned to the battlefield, where the Polish army, together with three Ruthenian banners from Smolensk, still enjoyed a sufficient numerical advantage to give it the upper hand. After several hours of fighting, the Order’s army was shattered. Jungingen, grand marshal Wallenrode, and virtually all the Order’s senior officers were killed, as were between 203 and 211 out of the 270 brothers of the Order who fought, out of a total of some 570 then active in Prussia.35
Tannenberg sent shock waves round Europe. The outcome was wholly unexpected; taken in conjunction with Vytautas’s advantageous peace with Muscovy the year before, it marked the arrival of a new power in north-eastern Europe and demonstrated to both domestic and international audiences the fruits of union. Such is clear with hindsight at least, although at the time Jagiełło was criticized for not securing a greater advantage from the stunning victory. Długosz attacked him for dawdling on the battlefield for three days instead of heading straight for Marienburg, where he would, so Długosz argued, have been able to capture the Order’s headquarters without resistance. By the time the army reached Marienburg on 22 July, Heinrich von Plauen, the energetic komtur of Schwetz, had organized its defences sufficiently for it to survive a three-month siege.36
The fighting at Tannenberg had been hard, however, and it was as unrealistic to expect the exhausted army to march 120 kilometres to Marienburg immediately after the battle, as it was to suppose that a force substantially composed of cavalry could impose Polish rule over the Order’s lands. The Poles had siege artillery, but the army that triumphed at Tannenberg was a force assembled to win on the battlefield, and was not suited to conducting sieges or garrisoning castles.37 Nevertheless, although Marienburg was stoutly defended, many towns and fortresses across the Order’s lands, impressed by the shattering of its army, opened their gates to the victors. In the Elbing Altstadt burghers expelled the Order’s garrison on 18 or 19 July and provided arms and ammunition for the siege of Marienburg, while Thorn and the Culm lands came over to Jagiełło in August, with Danzig following.38 Relations between theOrder and the local Catholic hierarchy were cool. The bishops, of Ermland, Pomezania, and Culm all swore homage to Jagiełło. Heinrich von Vogelsang of Ermland offered him considerable support, later being accused of treason by the Order, and was specifically excluded from the clause in the 1411 peace of Thorn that allowed refugees from the fighting to return to their possessions.39
Despite these defections, in the months after Tannenberg the very completeness of the Polish-Lithuanian victory helped rally support behind the Order. In August the Livonians abandoned their passive stance, sending a 3,000-strong force to Königsberg. The November election of Plauen as grand master completed the process of rebuilding the Order’s hierarchy. The military situation gradually altered in its favour, as hired troops began arriving in larger numbers from the Empire, where Tannenberg had made a great impression. Fighting continued into the autumn. While the Poles won a skirmish at Koronowo on 10 October, they proved unable to hold more than a handful of the castles and towns they had occupied in July and August, although they did retain some important fortresses, including Thorn castle. The Lithuanians left Prussia after the battle, thereby reducing considerably the numerical superiority enjoyed by the union forces. By November the Polish army was deteriorating. Many had gone home, and the Bohemian mercenaries were demanding their pay.40 It was not clear that Jagiełło would enjoy such a clear advantage in the following year. Peace was, for the moment, the sensible choice.
Długosz’s criticisms reflect his disappointment at the minor gains made at the peace of Thorn (1 February 1411), which ended the war, although it by no means settled the issues between the two parties. Samogitia was returned to Lithuania, but only for the lifetimes of Jagiełło and Vytautas, after which it would revert to the Order. Apart from this concession and the substantial payment of 100,000 kop groszy by the Order as compensation for the return of prisoners, the terms largely restored the status quo. Długosz argued that Poland, as distinct from Lithuania, gained very little from Tannenberg. He wrote bitterly of the failure to recover Culm and Pomerelia and claimed that the sum paid for the return of prisoners was derisory, waspishly concluding that Jagiełło and Vytautas were content that Lithuania be restored while Poland remained in its mutilated condition.41 His running gripe that Jagiełło always favoured Lithuania over Poland is aired, but his assessment is unrealistic, if not downright misleading: Poland recovered Dobrzyń unconditionally, while Samogitia had only temporarily been restored to Lithuania. Even if the terms were not generous, Tannenberg had altered the balance of power. The reaction in Europe, however, suggested that the struggle would continue on another front.
1 Sławomir Jóźwiak et al., Wojna Polski i Litwy z Zakonem Krzyżackim w latach 1409–1411 (Malbork, 2010), 76; Maryan Goyski, ‘Sprawa zastawu ziemi dobrzyńskiej przez Władysława Opolczyka i pierwsze lata sporu (1391–1399)’, PH, 3 (1906), 22–51, 174–98, 333–50.
2 Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 283–4.
3 Przemysław Nowak, ‘Dokumenty pokoju w Raciążku z 1404 r.’, SŹ, 40 (2002), 57–77.
4 AU, no. 45, 47–8; Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 287–8.
5 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 36–7.
6 Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 294.
7 AU, no. 46, 47–50.
8 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 40–1.
9 Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 295.
10 Tomasz Graff, Kościół w Polsce wobec konfliktu z zakonem krzyżackim w XV wieku (Cracow, 2010), 20.
11 Krzyżaniakowa and Ochmański, Jagiełło, 194–5; Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 72.
12 Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 300. Nadolski suggests that the Order’s claim was justified: Andrzej Nadolski, Grunwald 1410 (Warsaw, 2010), 31.
13 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 80.
14 Kurtyka, Tęczyńscy, 197–250; Sperka, ‘Oleśnicki’, 107.
15 CEV, i, no. 388, 165. Krzyżaniakowa and Ochmański, Jagiełło, 194, wrongly date the meeting in the ‘late autumn’: Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 301.
16 Kolankowski, Dzieje, i, 88.
17 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 55.
18 CEV, i, no. 397, 174–5. Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 55.
19 CEV, i, no. 402, 179; no. 404, 179–80; no. 409, 181.
20 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 89–90, Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 305.
21 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 113–14.
22 Annales, x/xi, 30.
23 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 116–17.
24 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 201–3.
25 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 210.
26 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 201, 210–11, 225.
27 Andrzej Nadolski, Grunwald 1410 (Warsaw, 2010), 29.
28 Sven Ekdahl, ‘Die Söldnerwerbungen des Deutschen Ordens für einen geplanten Angriff auf Polen am 1. Juni 1410: Ein Beitrag zur Vorgeschichte der Schlacht bei Tannenberg’, in Bernhart Jähnig (ed.), Beiträge zur Militärgeschichte des Preussenlandes von der Ordenszeit bis zum Zeitalter der Weltkriege (Marburg, 2010), 89–102; Nadolski, Grunwald, 34.
29 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 211, 239.
30 For sensible surveys see Sven Ekdahl, Die Schlacht bei Tannenberg 1410: Quellenkritische Untersuchungen, i: Einführung und Quellenlage (Berlin, 1982), 69–73; 144–55; Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 263–4.
31 Marian Biskup, Wojny polskie z zakonem krzyżackim 1308–1521 (Gdańsk, 1993), 57–8; Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 318–19; Stefan Kuczyński, Wielka wojna z zakonem krzyżackim w latach 1409–1411 (Warsaw, 1955), 177–202, 259.
32 Sven Ekdahl, ‘Žalgirio mūsis ir jo reikšmė Ordino gyvenimui’, in Rūta Čapaitė and Alvydas Nikžentaitis (eds), Žalgirio laikų: Lietuva ir jos kaimynai (Vilnius, 1993), 3–33.
33 Nadolski, Grunwald, 82; Sven Ekdahl, Die »Banderia Prutenorum« des Jan Długosz: Eine Quelle zur Schlacht bei Tannenberg 1410 (Göttingen, 1976), 146.
34 Sven Ekdahl‚ ‘Die Flucht der Litauer in der Schlacht bei Tannenberg 1410’, ZO, 12 (1963), 11–19.
35 Nadolski, Grunwald, 82; Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 437.
36 Annales, x/xi, 117, 119–20.
37 Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 351.
38 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 479, 502, 511.
39 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 494–5, 512–13; Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 364.
40 Jóźwiak et al., Wojna, 633.
41 Annales, x/xi, 177–8; Błaszczyk, Dzieje, ii/i, 363–4.