Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 205 – Sempach – the death of a Duke and the Birth of a Nation, also episode 3 of Season 11 – The Fall and Rise of the House of Habsburg.

“They had grown somewhat thoughtful; then without warning it began again, horrible, as though the thing had sprouted wings and was riding toward them on the backs of fiery monsters, flaming and shrieking, a long, drawn-out cry: Here we come! It truly seemed as if an underworld were suddenly seized with the desire to break out through the hard earth. The sound was like a black, gaping abyss, and the sun now appeared to be shining from a darkened sky, glaring down more dazzling than ever, but as through from a hell, not the heavens.

The rushing crowd, apparently full of passion, drew closer. And the knights stood their ground; suddenly they seemed fused together. Iron men held out their lances; . . . lance upon lance stuck out so mindlessly, firm and unyielding–just the thing, you might think, for such an impetuous, raging human breast to impale itself on. Here, an idiotic wall of spikes; there, people half-covered with shirts. Here, the art of war, the most prejudiced there is; there, people seized with helpless rage.

There’ll never be anything to equal the battering with which these light mountain and valley men, driven and elevated by their fury, now battered their way into the clumsy, despicable wall, smashing and ripping it apart like tigers ripping apart a defenceless herd of cows. . . . Those on horseback were flung down like cardboard, with a crack like that of a paper bag blown up and burst between one’s hands. . . . Heads were scuffed by blows, appeared only grazed, yet proved to be bashed in. Blow followed blow, horses were knocked down, the fighting grew more and more frenzied, more violent, the duke was slain; it would have been a miracle had he not been. Those striking accompanied their blows with shrieks, as though these were only right, as though killing alone was not enough, a mere half-measure. End quote

That is how the Swiss writer Robert Walser described the battle of Sempach on July 9th, 1386, the battle that broke Habsburg power in their ancient homeland and paved the way for Switzerland to come together.

What we will do in this episode is look at how it came to pass that an army of Swiss militia defeated Archduke Leopold III, one of the most accomplished military men of his time, a man willing to make his knights fight on foot, with lances, rather than run mindlessly into a wall of arrows, and how he still lost.

But before we start a quick reminder that this show is advertising free. No really, you will not hear me singing the praises of some product carefully curated for just your specific needs, or more likely not useful to you at all. Such luxury is ultimately a function of the generosity of a small but much appreciated band of patrons who have signed up on historyofthegermans.com/support.

This week our special thanks go to Chris O., Alexi G., the always supportive Mike F., Walter E., Stewart Walker, Sergey S. and Simona who have already signed up.

And with that, back to the show.

This season is entitled the Fall and Rise of the House of Habsburg. And since here the fall comes before the rise, it is the fall that we start with. If one tries to understand why the Habsburgs were able to keep a multicultural and multilingual empire together for 400 years, an empire that had not one but two capitals in Vienna and Madrid plus several smaller centres in Naples, Milan, Prague, Budapest and Brussels. An empire that at its height, spanned the globe and surrounded its greatest rival, the kingdom of France.

And all that these disparate territories, from Lima to Lwow had in common was not one individual king or emperor but the unflinching grip of a family that ruled them well into the 19th century when nationalist movement had long declared their existence obsolete.

To understand what made the Habsburg capable of such an unprecedented feat, it may help to understand the 150 years they spent in the wilderness, far from thrones and the vertiginous heights of European policy.

When we talk about the fall of empires and dynasties, it is very rarely a case of wile-e-coyote speeding over the cliff and crashing down. Great power blocks do not collapse straight into insignificance, they skid down the mountainside, occasionally grabbing hold of a boulder to rise up for a moment, before the next avalanche dislodges them again, until after decades or generations and after innumerable attempts at stabilisation, they hit rock bottom. We will see when rock bottom is for the Habsburgs, my best guess at this stage of my research is 1471, when Friedrich III sees his duchy of Austria overrun by his enemies and has to seek refuge in the empire, an empire that had largely forgotten about him and that he had not visited for 28 long years.

We have already watched the Habsburgs losing their footing for the first time, when king Albrecht I was murdered by his nephew John Parricida. One moment they were en-route to become the de facto hereditary rulers of the Holy Roman Empire and the next, they were just another ambitious family in the game of musical chairs that were the imperial elections in the 14th century. But they were still one of the most powerful of these families. In season 8 when we talked about the period between the Interregnum and the Golden Bull, I described it as a three-body problem where the Luxemburgs, the Habsburgs and the Wittelsbachs were roughly of equal power and influence, constantly ganging up two against one.

But that three-body problem went away with the rise of Karl IV to the imperial throne and his ruthless expansion of the Luxemburg powerbase from Bohemia westwards into Brandenburg and the Upper Palatinate whilst collecting options on Hungary and Poland. Neither Habsburg nor Wittelsbach could compete with that any longer.

A further relegation was the exclusion of the Habsburgs from the Seven Electors in the Golden Bull of 1356. Much has been made of this, though it is important to remember that neither the dukes of Austria nor the counts of Habsburgp had ever been part of the college of electors that had formed since around 1273. So not adding them was maybe not that much of a snub as it might look. Still we know that Rudolf the founder, the head of the family in 1356 took umbrage and forged the Privilegium Maius that claimed and – thanks to confirmation by the emperor – established a unique rank for the Habsburgs as Archdukes with wide ranging privileges in their own lands, privileges that made them more like kings then feudal vassals.

So, when Rudolf IV passed away prematurely in 1365, the House of Habsburg was certainly not what it was in 1308, but by no means down and out. They were a major force in the empire, holders of most august titles and – most importantly – united. They ruled Austria, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, the Tyrol and their ancestral lands along both shores of the upper Rhine from Schaffhausen to north of Freiburg im Breisgau as well as much of German speaking Switzerland.

Rudolf’s death had come at an inopportune moment. He had been just 27 years old and his marriage to the daughter of emperor Karl IV had remained childless. Hence the duchy went to his brothers, Albrecht, aged 16 and Leopold, aged 14 at the time. The Wittelsbachs used this to make a bid for the Tyrol they had ruled until fairly recently. But the brothers defeated duke Stephen of Lower Bavaria and Tyrol stayed in the family.

Between the brothers a clear division of responsibilities emerged. Albrecht, called “with the plaid” was the elder and interested in administration and finance. Leopold was the military man. So, it was Leopold, the younger one, who achieved the victory in Tyrol at the ripe old age of 17.

Such a division of responsibilities could be a recipe for astonishing success, think Augustus and Agrippa or Bismarck and von Moltke (the elder). But it did not work that well in this case. Leopold believed his military prowess demanded a higher status than that of junior co-ruler.

So, contrary to the clear provisions left by Rudolf the Founder and his predecessors, Albrecht and Leopold agreed to divide up the Habsburg lands. Leopold received the periphery, that means Carinthia, Carniola, bits of Frioul as well as the Tyrol and the ancestral lands along the Upper Rhine. Albrecht took Austria and Styria. Still, the break was not designed to be permanent. The brothers swore to act in unison. Every member of the family was allowed to use all the family titles, including that of archduke and in case one branch died out, the other would inherit their lands before any other claimant.

Whilst Albrecht focused on consolidating his power over Austria and Styria, Leopold went off conquering. And he was moderately successful, expanding in two directions. He moved southwards and acquired Trieste. The city actually submitted voluntarily to his rule in order to get rid of the oppressive Venetians. Trieste gave the Habsburgs access to the sea and became the homeport of the Austrian navy – seriously, such a thing existed.

But his main objective was to build a connection between the two main Habsburg possessions, Austria in the East and the Swabian ancestral lands in the West. One important first step had been done by his brother Rudolf who had established a hold over Tyrol.

The next important acquisition was the county of Feldkirch, better known as Vorarlberg, an important road connection to lake Constance before it became a vehicle to extract large sums of money from thrill-seeking German and English skiers. Given Salzburg too had come under indirect Austrian rule as per the Privilegium Maius, the Habsburgs now possessed a land bridge all the way from Vienna to the eastern shore of Lake Constance. And with their Ancestral lands starting around the western shore of the lake, the grand strategic objective of a contiguous territory was within reach.

All that was needed to be brought in now were the lands south of Lake Constance and the left bank of the Rhine. And to save you scrambling for a map, let me tell you what the land south of lake Constance and the left bank of the Rhine is called today: The Swiss Confederation.

In 1379 when Leopold was put in charge the Habsburgs already had extensive possessions in this region. After all, the family had come from the Aargau near Brugg in the first place. They had replaced the former major players in the region, the Kyburgs and Zaehringer, they held castles and advocacies all throughout these lands. There were two free imperial cities here, Zurich and Berne, but even within those, the family had certain rights and supporters.

But recent generations of the family had let things slip. They had lost the position as imperial reeve over the cantons of Uri, Schwyz and Nidwalden. The defeat of an Austrian force at Morgarten in 1315 had further undermined their position. The cities, including Lucerne and Zug which they owned outright were less and less willing to yield to the Habsburg administrators’ demands.

Our man, archduke Leopold’s job was hence to defend the existing rights and reclaim those lost in the previous decades. And that meant specifically to take charge of the main cities in the region, Zurich, Basel, Lucerne, Solothurn and maybe even the mighty Berne. Each of these cities had a faction that supported the Habsburgs, usually made up of the long-distance traders who believed a mighty lord was better able to ensure the safety of the roads and the Alpine passes.

As one can imagine, Leopold’s expansionist policy did not remain unopposed. To understand this opposition, we have to take a closer look at this thing that would become known as the Swiss Confederation.

And I am afraid much, if not all the stories about the founding of the Swiss confederation are made up. Wilhelm Tell, did not exist, the Rütlischwur, did not take place, at least not in the way and at the time it is usually reported, the Bundesbrief may be a backdated, Arnold von Winkelried, also not a real person.

I personally think this is a pity. I would have loved to go on about

“One people will we be, — a band of brothers;

No danger, no distress shall sunder us.

We will be free men as our fathers were,

And sooner welcome death than live as slaves.

We will rely on God's almighty arm,

And never quail before the power of man.”

And to then go on to “Through this narrow pass he must come".

But sadly, every single history of Switzerland I have read is adamant, that none of this ever happened. But that does not mean that the emergence of the Swiss confederation, which very much does exist, is not a great story. Only that the crucial moments weren’t 1291 or 1315, but 1386 and 1393.

But I am racing ahead.

We did already have a brief look into the beginnings of the Swiss confederation in episode 150 – Morgarten and Mühldorf” but let me just briefly recap.

When the Gotthard pass opened up in the 13th century, life for the people living in the alpine valleys on both sides of the pass changed fundamentally. Having been a forgotten land of subsistence farmers and herders, far from the centres of commerce and politics, they found themselves suddenly in close communication with Italy and southern Germany.

Recognising the strategic importance of the new route, the emperor Frederick II granted the lands immediately to the north of the pass, the cantons of Schwyz and Uri, possibly also Nidwalden, immediacy. In other words, these lands became part of the imperial demesne and were administrated by an imperial governor, a Vogt in German. This Vogt was initially a member of the House of Habsburg.

The inhabitants of these cantons were in the main peasants. There was a local aristocracy, though less numerous than in other parts of the empire. Village communities were close knit and enjoyed a high degree of autonomy due to the specific conditions of life in the mountains. This hostile environment required building paths and bridges, maintaining forests to protect against avalanches and required holding a food reserve for the harsh winters. All this was provided by the local community, not by a feudal lord.

Once the pass became a major thoroughfare, the locals found additional sources of income in transporting wares across and offering hospitality to travellers. And they were introduced to lucrative job opportunities far away.

Travellers told them about the incessant wars between the cities and lords in Northern Italy, wars that were fought mainly by hired mercenaries. The great condottiere were constantly on the lookout for sturdy young men, willing to have a go at anyone they told them to hack at. And these men from the alpine valleys were ideal for the job. They were used to physical exertion and violence, like almost everyone in the Late Middle Ages. But what made them so great was that they had no allegiance to any of the parties involved in the wars in Northern Italy. They did not care particularly for any of the cities; they had no link to the emperor and not even worry much about the pope and his excommunications.

The historian Volker Reinhard places the beginnings of the Swiss Confederation into this context. According to him the first compact amongst the tree cantons, the Bundesbrief of 1291 was actually produced 20 years later in 1308, and it wasn’t initiated by the people of the cantons, but by the emperor and his Vogt.

The key event according to him was the journey of emperor Henry VII to Rome. Henry VII was keen to have access to the famous fighting men from the mountains to cut his way south. Which is why he appointed one of his generals, Wernher von Homberg as imperial reeve for the three cantons. Von Homberg did indeed exist and was one of the Condottiere who made their living in the perennial Italian wars. Reinhard then goes on to say that Homberg was interested in a permanent arrangement between the three territories that would make it easier him to raise large contingents of soldiers. He therefore not only allowed them to draft the Bundesbrief but actually encouraged it. And as we heard last week, forging and predating documents was commonplace at the time. So, it is quite possible that they changed the date of the agreement in order to give the document added weight and credibility.

Irrespective of when and why the arrangement was made, it is apparent that from the 14th century onwards the three cantons coordinated their actions and entered into further alliances jointly.

This alliance was first tested when a Habsburg army came up to the valleys to avenge an attack of the men of Schwyz against the Abbey of Einsiedeln. The Habsburg expeditionary force found itself defeated at the battle of Morgarten in 1315. This was certainly a crucial event in as much as a chivalric army of knights was beaten by a force that comprised mostly of peasants. What made this possible was in large part the topography, as the armoured riders travelled along a narrow road along a lake whilst the Swiss threw rocks and logs at them from the cliffs above. It is also possible that they used halberds for the first time, a weapon that would become a very effective tool to dislodge and then incapacitate armoured riders.

In the years after Morgarten, the Habsburgs were preoccupied with their war against Ludwig the Bavarian over the succession in the empire, leaving little room for revenge against these rebellious mountain people.

By the old notion that my enemy’s enemy is my friend, Ludwig the Bavarian supported the three cantons against the Habsburgs. He showered them lavishly with all sorts of freedoms, and, crucially, when their reeve, Wernher von Homberg died, Ludwig did not appoint a new reeve. As a consequence, the three cantons became de facto free to organise themselves as they wished with only the emperor as their overlord. And so, they did. They gradually removed what existed in terms of noble privileges and dues, so that by 1380 these three cantons consisted almost entirely of free men and women.

But the cantons weren’t really in anyone’s focus, unless one was trying to recruit soldiers. Where the Habsburgs and in particular duke Leopold III spent their energy was in the cities. These were a lot richer and a lot easier to control than the wild men and women of the valleys.

The Swiss cities differed in structure quite considerably from the cities in the other parts of the empire. As we discussed in episode 160 “the Golden Bull of 1356”, one of the basic rules of the Holy Roman Empire was that the cities were banned from inviting local lords to become citizens. The point of this prohibition was to stop cities from acquiring large territories. This is what had happened in Northern Italy in the 11th and 12th century and had made the communes powerful enough to defy and ultimately defeat the emperors.

The way these Italian cities had acquired their territories, the Contado, was by co-opting the local lords as citizens. The lord would hand over political control of his lands and in exchange was given a position on the city council, whilst keeping the income from his estates.

The Swiss cities defied the ban on co-opting local lords, the so-called Pfahlbürger. Which is how in particular Bern and Zurich could become veritable city states with territories that rivalled many principalities.

We should not believe though that this process was all polite and gentlemanly. It wasn’t quite the case that the city council would send a gold-rimmed invitation card to the local knight who would be so delighted, he immediately signed up. What preceded these takeovers was either that the local lord had run out of cash and had pawned his castle to the city, or the city had marched its militia before the castle gates.

These city militias were often well equipped and well trained. In 1375 the French lord Enguerrand de Coucy, the key protagonist in Barbara Tuchmann’s Distant Mirror, led a strong force of hardened French and Gascon mercenaries into the territory of the city of Berne. On Christmas day the city militia attacked them and slaughtered 800 of these veterans of the Hundred Year’s war. These city armies were not to be underestimated.

And these militias existed not only in the free Imperial cities of Bern and Zurich. Even those who were not, like Lucerne, Fribourg, and Solothurn embarked on a similar expansion policy and established sizeable military forces.

This expansion policy brought them into conflict with a) the powerful families of the region, in particular the Habsburgs and, on their western flank, the counts of Savoy, and, b) the nobles of Swabia who had formed associations to push back against the threat of being slowly but surely dragged under by the cities.

As we go through the 14th century these two developments, the expansion of the cities at the expense of the Habsburgs and the Habsburg efforts to connect their lands into one contiguous territory from Vienna to Basel headed for an inevitable clash.

It could have kicked off already at the Basel’s Ugly carnival of 1376. Basel lies exactly at one of the connection points between the Habsburg territories in Alsace, Breisgau and Switzerland. Hence one of Leopold’s objectives was to extend his control of the city. In that he had to deal with the opposition not just of the city council, but also of the bishop of Basel.

The bishop was comparatively easy, as he was broke and so Leopold was able to buy him out. Through this arrangement he acquired Kleinbasel, the part of the city on the opposite side of the river. In February 1376 Leopold invited his noble friends to Basel for a grand tournament. And since he needed the space, he demanded to use the main square in the city itself. The council, which comprised a large pro-Habsburg faction, permitted the tournament to go ahead.

But things went pear shaped quite quickly. The tournament took place as part of the carnival celebrations. Carnival for those who are not familiar is the massive party that takes place in catholic countries on the last few days before lent. Given the prospect of 40 days of restricted food choices and moderation in alcohol, carnival tends to be an exceedingly debauched affair. This is a medieval carnival, not carnival in Venice with masks and baroque music, or Brasilian Samba floats. This is – depending on stamina – a four-to-six-day bacchanal of drinking, dancing, mor drinking, more dancing, and – should there still be some energy left - doing some naughty stuff.

It isn’t hard to imagine what happened when a drunk crowd is confronted with dukes and knights prancing about on their horses in the market square as if they owned it. The mob stormed the enclosures and the drinking halls of the nobles. Duke Leopold barely escaped on a barge across the river and many of his guests were apprehended and locked up in the city hall for their protection. Still dozens of knights and their retainers lay dead.

The city council blamed the whole incident on bridge and tunnel people and hanged two of them to show its contrition. Nevertheless, duke Leopold procured an imperial ban over the city, which he then leveraged into a full takeover of the place.

In the meantime, the cities and the cantons had moved ever closer together in order to protect themselves against external forces, namely Leopold, but also the counts of Savoy. Ever since Morgarten, the different cities and cantons have signed agreements and alliances. This again, is nothing unusual. Similar things happened amongst the cities and territorial princes of southern Germany as well.

In 1370, one of these arrangements, the so-called Pfaffenbrief, took on a different quality. In it the three cantons, Uri, Schwyz and Nidwalden as well as the cities of Zurich, Lucerne, and Zug agreed a permanent alliance that was to bind them above and beyond other existing obligations. Previous arrangements had always been made for a fixed period and subject to pre-existing third party arrangement. Under the Pfaffenbrief, Lucerne, which was nominally a Habsburg city, shed its obligations to the Austrians in their entirety and instead aligned the exercise of political power with the other signatories.

This was a new type of arrangement. It was permanent and it took priority over all other agreements. Its participants were no longer just allies, but small c confederates. The Swiss constitutional lawyers regard this document as the foundational step towards the Swiss Confederation.

Surprisingly the Habsburgs did not react to this move. They had lost control of Lucerne and also Zug, where their position had been stronger, but still, they did not budge. That was in part due to the death of Rudolf the Founder in 1365 and the subsequent wars over the Tyrol and the squabbling between the brothers.

When these conflicts had been resolved It became time for Leopold III to bring this conflict to a resolution. Basel had been a major success which he followed up in the early 1380s with the acquisition of two counties near Berne.

It was now clear to everyone where this train was heading. In response Berne, Solothurn, Zurich and Zug entered into an alliance of the traditional temporary and limited kind with a number of southern German cities, promising each other support in case of attack. Leopold in turn firmed up his links with the Swabian nobility on both banks of the Rhine.

The signing of the Konstance accord with the German cities encouraged the Swiss to strike first. Zurich attacked Rappertswil, Zug the city of St. Andreas. Lucerne co-opted the city of Sempach. All of these had been Habsburg possessions. Now the war was on.

Leopold III called upon all his vassals, from Tyrol, from Alsace and the Breisgau, he wrote to his allies, the knightly associations in Swabia and the Alps and hired crossbowmen from Italy and Flanders. They were all to gather in his city of Brugg in the shadow of the ancient family home, the Habichtsburg. As always numbers are unreliable, but the most likely figure is about 3,000 men, all rearing to teach these peasants and townsfolk a lesson they should never forget.

The first town to be educated in the ways of the feudal world, was Lucerne.

Lucerne immediately called on the men of Uri, Schwyz and Nidwalden to come to their aid. Which they did. It seems the other cities who had signed the recent alliance did not appear on the battlefield, or in the case of the German cities, only as observers and mitigators.

There are two ways to describe the battle that followed. The first one is from the contemporary sources. These say that a battle had taken place and note who won. That, I am afraid is not suitable podcast material.

Therefore, here comes the more entertaining, but maybe less accurate version:

Once Leopold had spotted the enemy in an open field near the town of Sempach, he asked the gros of his knights to dismount and form a strong square, protected by a wall of lances. Within the square the crossbowmen were to release their bolts into the mass of enemies. Meanwhile two detachments of heavy cavalry positioned themselves on the flanks and, once the enemy had engaged the centre, were to attack the Swiss from the sides. Dismounting the knights and integrating infantry into the strategy was a major move away from the gung-ho approach at Crecy, Poitiers and Mühldorf. But then the Habsburgs owed much of their success to their willingness to bend the rules of chivalry when necessary. Plus, this was a tactic that had led French forces to victory over another army of townspeople, those of Flanders, just four years earlier.

And initially the plan worked. The Swiss fierce attacks of the Habsburg line ran again and again into the unyielding wall of lances. And out of the square the crossbowmen sent their deadly bolts into the lightly armoured forces of Lucerne and his allies. The story goes that when wave after wave had been broken by the Habsburg resolve, a bear of a man stepped forward, Arnold von Winkelried. Entrusting his wife and children to his comrades he rushes forward and grabbed a dozen or more of the enemy spikes, impaling himself. And as he fell, so did the spears buried in his chest. Over the hero’s body stepped his comrades, cutting deep in the duke’s phalanx. Their line broken, the square formation fell apart. The Habsburg lion went down with his standard-bearer. Duke Leopold who had been in the centre of the square seized the flag from the dying hand of his vassal to once more rally his troops, but it was too late. His forces turning, he was offered the opportunity to flee, but refused uttering: “shall I, Leopold, look on from afar as my brave knights fight and die. Here in my country, and with my people, I will either conquer or perish”. His dead body was found the next morning, together with 400 noble knights whose names the victors carefully recorded on the walls of a chapel they erected over the battlefield.

Whether or not this was the way it unfolded, we will never know. The earliest detailed descriptions of the battle date from 1480, almost a century later. Arnold von Winkelried existence is even less likely, since his deed bears suspicious resemblance to much older Germanic folktales and a man of this name appeared in the 16th century as a hero of the Swiss guards.

But what is fact is that the forces of Lucerne, Uri, Schwyz and Nidwalden defeated the army of duke Leopold of Austria, and devastatingly so. In its wake the nobility in the south was much diminished. Many families found their sons and heirs did not come back and lost their lands to territorial princes, including most cynically, the Habsburgs themselves.

Habsburg power in what is today Switzerland was largely wiped out. Not immediately, but the cities, Zurich, Berne, Lucerne, Zug, and Solothurn continued their expansionist policy. Basel shook off Habsburg control. The local lords, who could no longer hope for meaningful Habsburg assistance caved, handed over political control and became citizens. In 1388 there was one more battle between the Swiss and the Habsburgs, which the Habsburgs again lost. In 1393 the existing union of Uri, Schwyz, Nidwalden, Lucerne, Zug and Zurich added Berne, Solothurn and Glarus. This “Old Federation” would last until 1481 and in that period would push back Habsburg influence all the way to the Rhine River, taking even their ancestral seat, the Habsburg itself.

Leopold III’s body was brought to the grand abbey of Königsfelden, originally built as a memorial to the murdered king Albrecht I. Whilst the Swiss regard Sempach as one of the greatest battles in their history, the Habsburgs developed a very different narrative. As they saw it the great general, brave fighter and chivalric knight had been murdered through treachery by an uncouth rabble. His heroic refusal to be rescued from the battlefield made him into a martial idol. Over time the memory of Leopold III got mashed up with that of saint Leopold, the 12th century Babenberger duke the Habsburgs had already incorporated into their made-up family history.

But apart from expanding the family lore, the death of Leopold III was a catastrophe. He left behind four sons, four sons who did not get on with each other. Nor did they get on with their uncle and later their cousin from the other branch of the family. So next week we will meet a whole bunch of new Austrian archdukes, William the Courteous, Leopold the Fat, Ernest the iron-willed and Frederick with the empty pockets. A further division of the territory was at hand. The Habsburgs were heading downhill at speed. As I said, in this family it is the fall that comes before the rise.

I hope you come along for the tumble. And if you want to go back to some of the wider background of this story, check out episodes 150 about Morgarten, 152 about Margarete Maultasch and the acquisition of Carinthia and Tyrol, 166 about the Great Schism which overlaid all that went on at the time and 165 on king Wenceslaus the Lazy who was at least formally in charge of the empire at that time.

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