long troubled saga that is Polish-German history might have been quite different, but it was not to be. Otto III died in 1002 at the age of twenty-two and was succeeded by Henry II, a man bitterly opposed to the creation of a strong Polish state. In order to strengthen his bargaining position with Germany Boleslaw took advantage of the confusion following Otto’s death and seized Meissen and Lausitz. Henry was prepared to accept this but Boleslaw did not stop there and took Bohemia as well. Henry demanded homage, Boleslaw refused, and Henry attacked the Poles. The ensuing war lasted until 1018.41 Poland’s strength was further undermined by a great Slav revolt in 1035–7, which resulted in the move of the Polish capital to Cracow.42 The Polish – German rivalry now manifested itself in the often bitter fighting along the border from Lusitia to Pomerania, where disputed land changed hands constantly and was often referred to as ‘Polish’ by the ruler of Poland and ‘German’ by the emperor and his subjects. This confusion is still reflected in various nineteenth- and twentieth-century Polish and German school atlases which ‘claim’ the territory as their own. In reality, however, much of the area, including the land around Berlin, was still in the hands of the heathen Slavs and belonged to neither.43
By the eleventh century the Slavs were still clinging defiantly to the strip of land around Berlin despite being under constant threat from the Germans, who controlled the Elbe to the west of Spandau and Köpenick, and by the Poles, who now controlled the Oder to the east. It was a fascinating time. Traders continued to travel from German Christian Magdeburg, then east to the heathen fortresses of Köpenick and Spandau, and then on to Christian Poland. This extraordinary situation lasted for over a century, making the Berlin region one of the last parts of central Europe to become Christianized. But the Slavs were living on borrowed time. The Christians could not tolerate this isolated island of heathenism in their midst; nor could the rulers of Polish and German lands leave such valuable territory unclaimed. The centuries-old domination of the area by the Hevellians and the Sprewans was about to be broken for ever.
In the end the territory fell to the Germans. The drive to take it was spearheaded by Lothair III, the Holy Roman Emperor, who began a campaign against both the Danes and the Slavs in the early twelfth century. One of Lothair’s strategies was to send knights to conquer and settle land in his name, and in 1134, in one of the turning points of Berlin’s history, he gave the North Mark to a young count of the House of Ascania whose name was Albert the Bear.44 It was he who would finally wrest the Mark from the pagan Slavs and transform it into part of the German Christian world.
Albert the Bear was typical of the young nobles and knights who set out to make their fortunes in the heathen lands at the edges of Europe. His father, Count Otto of Ballenstedt, already held large properties in the Harz mountains and northern Thuringia and it was normal that the son should go out to earn his fortune in this way; by the time he reached his twenties Albert had already fought in a number of border skirmishes with the Slavs and the ambitious young man was determined to extend his holdings as far as possible, whether by diplomacy or conquest. In order to do this he had to recruit knights.
Knights were integral to the expansion of Europe in the Middle Ages. Many were driven by the desire for land which all knew would translate into dynastic power; if they were successful and survived the gruelling life they could expect property and fiefs, wealth and status. This international brotherhood had first appeared in France but had quickly spread from Cyprus to Hungary, from Italy to East Anglia – indeed anywhere along the fringes of Europe where there were heathen to fight and glory to be won. Their code of chivalry encompassed everything from the fierce defence of the Church of Christ to strict rules of honour towards women; it was the era of Tannhäuser and Parsifal, of troubadours and minnesingers, and it would later become the stuff of Romantic legend. The stories which grew up around these men tended to emphasize their bravery, their mercy and their dedication to God, and many were indeed fired by a genuine determination to save souls – although it is clear that others were more tempted by the spoils of conquest. Nevertheless they all shared a common ideology so aptly summarized in the medieval Song of Roland: ‘Christians are right, pagans are wrong.’45 The knights were truly international; according to the thirteenth-century account The Chronicle of Morea, Frankish knights settled in Greece, those who fought in Ireland and Wales were granted titles by the king of England, and even in the area around Berlin the Slavic princes, including the duke of Barnim and the Wedel lords of Uchtenhagen, recruited German knights to increase their own dynastic power.46 Albert the Bear was merely one of many young noblemen trying to attract such men, and he was highly successful.
Albert organized an extraordinary mission against the Slavs which combined a strong force with clever alliances with the Church, particularly with Bishop Anselm of Havelberg and the powerful Archbishop Wichmann of Magdeburg, both of whom gave him the credibility and financial backing he needed to recruit men.47 A typical appeal of 1108 read: ‘to the leading men of Westphalia, Lotharingia and Flanders to help conquer the territory of the Wends. These pagans are the worst of men but their land is the best, with meat, honey and flour … So – Oh Saxons, Franconians, Lotharingians and Flemings, here you will be able both to save your souls and, if you will, to acquire very good land to settle.’48 Albert soon had Polish, Danish, German, French and Flemish men under his command and in 1147, under the motto Tod oder Taufe (death or conversion), began to push his way into Brandenburg and south into the lands which officially came under the auspices of the archbishopric of Magdeburg. After years of bitter fighting he eventually reached the Oder and went beyond into Pomerania. But one of his greatest triumphs was the retaking of Brennabor – Brandenburg – which had been held by the Slavic Hevellians since 983.
Brandenburg had become something of a symbol for the conquering Christian knights. They conveniently forgot that it had started as a Slavic village and were intent on revenge for that black day when the heathen had swept upon the town, murdering the Christians, smashing the Ottonian cathedral of Marienburg, setting up a shrine to the great three-headed monster Trigilaw and forcing the bishop to hide in the nearby monastery of Lietzkau. In 1150 Albert retook the town and imprisoned the Slavic prince Heinrich Pribislaw, forcing him to convert and making him promise that on his death bed he, Albert the Bear, should succeed him. Pribislaw died that year and was buried in the castle chapel and Albert seized the town. It was not a straightforward victory, however. The Slavic leader Jaxa von Köpenick, who had already converted to Christianity under pressure from the Polish bishopric at Leubus, felt that as Pribislaw’s nephew he and not Albert should have Brandenburg. Jaxa was a shrewd politician. He holds the distinction of being the first man to appear on a coin (a silver brakteat of 1150) minted in the Berlin area, which depicts him sitting in his fortress at Köpenick clutching a gigantic sword and wearing a helmet.49 Jaxa gathered his own army, made up largely of Polish troops, and in 1154 retook Brandenburg. It took three more years of bloody fighting before Albert managed to wrest the city back from the Polish-backed Slavic prince in 1157. It was this final victory which Germans came to regard as the ‘Birthday of the Mark of Brandenburg’. Henry of Antwerp witnessed the celebration of 11 June and wrote in his Tractatus de captione urbis Brandenburg: ‘So, in the year of the incarnation of the Lord 1157 the Margrave, by God’s mercy, took possession as victor of the city of Brandenburg and, entering it joyfully with a great retinue, raised his triumphal standard on high and gave due praises to God, who had given him victory over his enemies.’50 Albert the Bear took the title Markgraf (margrave) and the city became the first capital of the Mark Brandenburg, the caput marchionatus Brandenburgensis.51 It was soon elevated to the status of residence city (where the ruler’s palace was located). For Albert, twenty-three years of fighting and diplomacy had been amply rewarded and he had transformed himself from a mere knight into a powerful German leader.
The taking of Brandenburg broke the power of the Hevellian Slavic princes and it had a profound effect on the future of the Berlin area. Spandau became Albert’s property; the first Christian graves there date from 1150 and the first Ascanian governor, Albert’s son Margrave Otto II, was appointed in 1197. In 1241 Margrave Johann I took Köpenick from the Wettiner Markgraf von Meissen along with all the properties belonging to the Sprewans and built a new fortress which became a powerful administrative centre. Johann was a fierce fighter and extended his power far to the east, even seizing Gdansk from the Poles between 1266 and 1271,