Tudor bulls, meet 16th century German china shop.

The Electorate of Saxony in 1610

This map shows the extent of the Electorate of Saxony in 1610, following the War of the Julich Succession and the death of Duke John, son of the Elector Alexander.

The map is © from Shepherd's Historical Atlas, by William R. Shepherd, George Philip & Son Ltd, London 1967.

On it are my markings: the lime green represent the borders of the Electorate of Saxony on the death of Frederick Henry. The orange represent the enlarged borders of the various Landgraviates of Hesse under the successors of Philip.

If anyone has copyright concerns and would like this to be taken down, let me know and I'll gladly do so:

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Just want to let you know how much I enjoy this timeline. As I haven't much time now i'll write a more detailed feedback tomorrow, but as said just wanted to let you know that I follow this TL and enjoy it.
 
Brutal Youth

1611
Completing a process that began in 1608 when the Emperor Rudolf II surrendered control over Austria, Bohemia and Hungary to his brother Matthias because of the dissatisfaction of the nobles of those countries with his rule, the Emperor allows his brother to become King of Bohemia, leaving Rudolf’s only major role that of Emperor itself.

Almost simultaneously in Wittenberg, in his last major act as the Elector of Saxony, Alexander institutes a new succession law that to some extent conflicts with the constitution of the Holy Roman Empire—it permits daughters to inherit the Electoral dignity if there are no living sons or male issue of sons of the Elector. The decree is obviously a tribute by the dying Alexander to his favorite child, the Electress Eleonore of Brandenburg.

Soon afterwards Eleonore scandalizes the court by petitioning the Lutheran Church for the annulment of her marriage to the Elector of Brandenburg on the grounds of his conversion to Calvinism. The Elector John Sigismund had offered to allow Eleonore the free practice of her Lutheranism, and conventionally wives and children of converting rulers followed the ruler in adopting a new faith, thus making Eleonore’s decision seem to many unnecessary and extreme. Alexander himself worried aloud if it was wise to humiliate the Elector of Brandenburg so, but nonetheless would not attempt to veto the Church’s decision with respect to the annulment. The Lutheran Church itself, anxious to defend against the inroads being made by other sects, and seeing in the Electress Eleonore a potential champion for its interests, responds with a statement praising her constancy in her faith and granting in full the dispensation she sought. When she returned to Wittenberg from Berlin in 1610 she left behind seven children at the court of the Elector of Brandenburg.

Another conversion further complicates both Wettin family politics and foreign policy. Long under the influence of Rudolf II, and having participated in many of the Emperor’s campaigns against the Ottoman Turks, Adam Wenceslaus the Duke of Teschen converts to Catholicism. Unlike Eleonore, his wife Sybille—also a daughter of the Elector—refuses to dissolve the marriage and follows him into the Catholic faith.

The Protestant princes of Germany continue to search for some compromise capable of officially ending the War of the Julich Succession, but the death of Duke John in securing the inheritance for the Wettins has made it unthinkable for Saxony to surrender any of the lands. Functionally, this makes a peace treaty impossible.

As if to complicate matters further, Hafen bursts into unexpected revolt, as Erik the Margrave of Hafen and Governor-General of the Colony barely manages to escape with his life. Huguenot, Anabaptist, and Hussite ministers had been instilling anger against the importation of slaves into the colony. To some extent, this sentiment is the result of political and economic animosity between the numerical majority of Hafenites—skilled laborers and small farmers who were religious refugees from Europe—and the owners of most of the land, who were Saxon or English planters growing sugar and tobacco. Specific points of contention included the imposition of Lutheranism as the official religion in a colony where only a fifth of the population were Lutherans, favoritism for Saxon planters in the distribution of lands in the interior, and restraints on the immigration of more Huguenots, Anabaptists, Hussites and German Calvinists.

Matters in Hafen reach a crisis when the rebels, under Paul Marais, begin emancipating the Irish slaves. In the first six months in which the rebels have power, 30,000 Irish are freed. The Irish in turn begin fleeing west to the country across the Kogalu River called Ausreisserland.

Disruption in the revenues from Hafen and the breakdown in the Atlantic trade cause severe problems to the Saxon fiscal situation. Meeting in Wittenberg, the triumvirate meets to determine a course of action: Eleonore and Albert convince William, the youngest son of the Elector Alexander, that he must be the one to break the rebels in North America because Albert must be on hand to fight in case hostilities with the Emperor start again. William thus begins preparing to lead an army to Hafen.

The one area in which the Wettins’ foreign policy interests seem to be on the mend is the Netherlands, where Frederick Augustus reaches an agreement for ten years’ peace with the Spanish, who are compelled to recognize a truce line that grants the Dutch Brabant and northern Flanders.

Sophia of Sweden, widow of Ernest Brandon, aunt by marriage of the current King of England, cousin in law of the Elector Alexander and for all intents and purposes the foster mother of his children, dies, throwing the Saxon court more deeply into mourning. Albert has a son, which he names John after his deceased brother.

1612
Arriving in Hafen, William successfully puts down the revolt and restores order following a brief siege of Festung Erlosung, though he finds the economy of the colony wrecked by the flight of the slaves and the absence of available labor. Fearful because of the restless of the colony’s Huguenot majority, William puts Paul Marais and other leaders of the revolt to death.

The Elector Alexander dies. He is succeeded by his grandson, the Elector Christian, and his will officially approves the appointment of the triumvirate to govern until he reaches majority. However, with William in Hafen, the triumvirate now officially includes the Electress Eleonore, Albert, who is given the title Duke of Saxony, and the Elector’s counselor Hugo Grotius. Christian is invested with the Electoral dignity in Wittenberg in a ceremony unattended by the Emperor, any leading Catholic prince or official of the empire, or the Elector of Brandenburg. Though there is no small amount of pageantry to celebrate the first elevation of a new elector in 52 years, it is hard to avoid the sparse turnout of dignitaries and the problems it signifies for the Wettins in German politics.

Elector Christian I the Impetuous 1612-1631
The fourteen-year old Elector is expected to rule with the aid of the regent triumvirs until he reaches the age of twenty, giving him the opportunity to pursue education in the special course of studies crafted by Luther, Melanchthon, and Duke Julius of Brunswick-Luneburg for future Saxon electors at the University of Wittenberg, as well as extensive training at the special military academy founded by his father at Weimar.

Eleonore, the Electress of Brandenburg and the informal leader of the triumvirate, founds a university for women in Dresden in the former Wettin residence at Pillnitz.

Eleonore also begins corresponding with Jindrich Matyas Thurn, a Protestant nobleman who had accumulated large holdings throughout the Habsburg domains during the recent wars with the Turks, including in Bohemia, where since 1605 he has been a member of that kingdom’s estates. She specifically begins inquiring about the possibility of electing a non-Habsburg king of Bohemia on the retirement or death of the current king, Matthias. Thurn assumes at first she means the young Christian.

However, Eleonore’s actual strategy is more complicated: she intends to install a Protestant as King of Bohemia other than Christian, in part to secure the assistance of Protestant German states that otherwise would have no reason to aid in the aggrandizement of Saxony. Then, she would use the four Protestant electors (of the Palatinate, Saxony, Brandenburg and Bohemia) to defeat the three ecclesiastical Catholic Electors (Mainz, Trier and Cologne) and install Christian as Holy Roman Emperor. At first, not even the young Elector himself knows of this plan. Nonetheless, Eleonore finds receptive replies from the Protestant nobles of Bohemia, not least because the region has looked enviously on the Saxon prosperity of the past fifty years and believes the personal union between Saxony and Bohemia that these nobles think she is proposing would be economically advantageous.

Eleonore’s conspiracy takes on a new immediacy when the Emperor Rudolf II dies in Prague. Nonetheless, because his designated successor Mathias has personally developed the reputation of being tolerant towards Protestants and had curbed Habsburg abuses in Hungary and Transylvania that were allowed to fester under Rudolf II’s rule, she understands that his election is not the time for Saxony to move against the Habsburgs. Thus, in a meeting of the Protestant Union princes before the election of the new Emperor the consensus decision is reached to support the election of Matthias as Emperor and thus defuse tensions between the Protestants and Catholic factions of the empire.

The famous artist Adriaen de Vries, late of the court of Emperor Rudolf, becomes the new court sculptor in Wittenberg.

Albert and Elisabeth of Courland have a second son, whom he names Frederick.

1613
The first meetings of the Estates-General are held in Ridinger’s baroque schloss in Elster, the opulence of which over-awes visiting German princes. In the most delicate business before the Estates-General, Albert and Eleonore must persuade the legislature to greatly expand itself and dilute the power of its membership by admitting representatives from the guilds, landowners, and other enterprises of the new lands acquired through the Julich inheritance. It is only with substantial cajoling from Eleonore that this is achieved.

In one of the first initiatives proposed by the Elector Christian, a Saxon voyage departs for India with the purpose of securing a permanent trading fort.

The Elector Christian also asks to lead a diplomatic mission to Istanbul to attempt to win concessions to Saxon overland trade through the Ottomans’ territories. The idea is deferred.

Spanish Jesuits working from St. Augustine locate the chief Irish settlements in Ausrisserland, and begin supplying the Irish with guns and other necessary supplies so as to defend themselves.

In recognition of Saxony’s support for his election and the cessation of all further hostilities in the Julich matter, the Emperor Matthias assents fully to the Saxon inheritance of Julich, Cleves, Burg, Mark and Ravensberg. This decision scandalizes the other leading Habsburg nobles, such as Maximilian of Austria, who had demanded a harsh policy against the Saxons.

Frederick Ernest, the deposed Duke of Saxony who had been implicated in the plot to overthrow the Elector Alexander, dies.

1614
Eleonore finds a partner for her Bohemian scheme in Christian, Prince of Anhalt-Bernburg, chief advisor to the young Elector of the Palatinate, Frederick V. She and Christian of Anhalt agree to try to put Frederick V forward as the next king of Bohemia. Moreover, as an inducement to Brandenburg to join them, they would partition the realms that historically pass with the Bohemian kingship, allowing Brandenburg to take Lusatia and Silesia. Then, Saxony, the enlarged Brandenburg and the personal union of Palatinate-Bohemia, all roughly equal in size, would use their combined majority to confer the title of Emperor upon the Elector Christian of Saxony.

A small Saxon fleet sets sail for India from Hamburg. The Elector Christian is cheered as he sends off the fleet from dockside. The Electress Eleonore (increasingly, the fact that her title relates to her marriage in Brandenburg and not to Saxony, and that she no longer narrowly speaking possesses that title since the marriage’s dissolution, is forgotten) uses the occasion to renegotiate the terms of Saxony’s commercial arrangement for the use of Hamburg’s ports, using as leverage the fact that Hamburg is now almost completely dependent on Saxon commerce and naval construction economically.

The young Elector travels to Scotland. There he marries James VI’s daughter the princess Elizabeth at Holyrood Palace. Although he strikes up a friendship with Scotland’s heir-apparent Prince Henry, the Elector Christian is unable to prevail upon James VI to reverse the enmities lingering from the War of the English Succession or to agree any of several trade and diplomatic schemes Christian had proposed.

In an important change in the pattern of Saxon colonial settlement, the Elector Christian charters an effort to settle the island of Granada, nominally under Spanish control but still unsettled. A group of Arminian Christians had asked for the charter but are rejected, and instead Christian gives the charter to his first-cousin once-removed by his great-uncle John Frederick, Alexander. Never again will it be Saxon practice to allow religious minorities to establish their own colonies. Immigration by these groups to Saxon colonies will be permitted, but without promises of special treatment for these groups, which recent events in Hafen indicate leads to unrest.

In Hafen, English traders bring the first shipment of African slaves.

Karl von Droste publishes his theories asserting that hot air is lighter than cold air, and that the reason why is not reducible to differences in the composition of the air in question but the behavior of the particles of air instead.

Margarethe von Kulmbach writes one of the rare commercially successful books of printed German poetry, sparking fresh interest in German as a literary language and winning for herself a stipend from the Elector.

1615
Eleonore and Christian of Anhalt seal the secret alliance between Saxony and the Palatinate by marrying the Elector Frederick V to the Elector Christian of Saxony’s sister Elizabeth. Eleonore next tries to enlist in the conspiracy her estranged husband, the Elector John Sigismund of Brandenburg. He is shocked by the recklessness of the plan and the likelihood that it will plunge Germany into full-scale war. Wanting no part of it even with Eleonore offering the inducements of Lusatia and Silesia, he grudgingly concedes his support for the election of a Protestant Emperor should Saxony and Palatinate succeed in all the preliminary steps of their plan.

The Saxons purchase land for a fortress and factory at Thiruvananthapuram, at the southern tip of India. From there they will export sandalwood and spices to Europe, and import Saxon manufactured goods, including weapony. Profitable almost immediately, it quickly begins to ease the problems arising from the Huguenot revolt in Hafen.

As part of the effort to incorporate the Julich inheritance into Saxony, the Lutheran Church formally establishes the system of gymnasia already present elsewhere in Germany. Also, the Elector founds the University of Cleves.

As a final boon to the new territories, the Electress Eleonore and the Elector Christian jointly propose building what is immediately known as “John’s Road” to honor the Elector’s father: it would connect Leipzig to Cleves, passing on its way through the territories the Duke John added to Saxony in the War of the Julich Succession. Some negotiations with other nobles will be necessary to build the road however, since it will partly pass through the territory of the Bishopric of Munster and Hesse.

Duke John’s widow Dorothea Maria of Anhalt begins an annual literary contest for the best written work of any kind in the German language.

The Electress Elizabeth of Scotland gives birth to her first child, a girl. She is named Anna, after her grandmother Anne of Denmark.

1616
As rumors spread of the decline of Emperor Matthias’s health, the Electress Eleonore rushes to ascertain the possibility of electing Frederick V, Elector of the Palatinate, King of Bohemia. Thurn and the other Bohemian nobles are enraged at her duplicity, since they had believed her intention had been to secure the throne of Bohemia for her nephew the Elector Christian of Saxony. Their response is simply and clearly that while they would consider breaking from the Habsburgs to join with Saxony, partake in its economic dynamism, and enjoy the protection of Germany’s most formidable state outside the Habsburg realm, they have no intention of undertaking all the risks of rejecting the Habsburgs for the ruler of the smaller, more obscure Palatinate.

Thus, Eleonore’s plan, already teetering on the edge since the Elector John Sigismund of Brandenburg’s rejection, seems now to be falling apart. Conferring with Christian of Anhalt at Fulda in Hesse, she asks if she would have the support of the Palatinate if the kingship of Bohemia went to Christian of Saxony. Christian of Anhalt’s response is that if the previous deal had been that one Elector would take the kingdom of Bohemia and the other the imperial throne, the principle should stand even if the roles were reversed, and so Frederick V should thus be the Protestant candidate for Emperor if Christian becomes king of Bohemia. Reluctantly, knowing that if she begrudges Christian of Anhalt the concession it would likely mean Saxony standing alone against the Habsburgs, Eleonore agrees to put Frederick V of the Palatinate and not Christian I of Saxony forward as the candidate for Emperor.

Finally, Eleonore then on her return to Wittenberg divulges her manipulations to the Elector Christian. He approves of everything but the final concession to the Palatinate, and makes plain that he feels the imperial throne is the birthright earned by his great-grandfather in his defeat of Charles V in the Schmalkaldic War.

Eleonore’s missteps have apparently all but doomed her plan, but for worse missteps on the part of the Habsburgs. For under the prodding of the Archduke Maximilian of Austria, the Emperor Matthias chooses to advance for the kingship of Bohemia the Archduke Ferdinand of Styria. Ferdinand, a devout Catholic and resolute leader of the Counter-Reformation in Styria, is precisely the candidate Eleonore most hoped the Habsburgs would put forward, since he is the most apt to magnify the fears of the Bohemian estates.

The Duke Albert begins overseeing franttic preparations for war.

In Transylvania, Stephen Bocskay dies. He is succeeded as Prince of Transylvania by Gabriel Bethlen, a close ally of Bocskay who supports maintaining Transylvania’s close ties with Protestant Europe in general and the Electorate of Saxony in particular.

The Elector Christian’s wife Elizabeth bears a second child, her first-born son, which she names Frederick Henry.

1617
The Elector Christian comes of age and the regency ends. He appoints Hugo Grotius his chancellor, angering the Lutheran Church since Grotius is an Arminian, as well as Frederick Augustus is Grotius is an adherent of a rival of the Stadtholder in the Netherlands. Despite Grotius’ appointment, it is plain the triumvirate is still in place and that in matters of statecraft the Electress Eleonore has preeminence over all but the Elector himself.

Letters make “the Bohemian Plan” in its final form known to key allies, including King Frederick I of England, Stadtholder Frederick Augustus of the Netherlands, and the Landgrave of Hesse-Kassel. All give their assent to proceed. James VI of Scotland, despite his being the father-in-law of the Elector, is not notified or invited to participate because of his ambivalent relationship with the Electorate of Saxony.

Simultaneously, Eleonore orders pamphlets printed and distributed in Bohemia attacking Ferdinand of Styria as an enemy of the Protestant faith who would enforce absolute religious conformity.

As the Emperor Matthias officially announces he will step aside as King of Bohemia and nominates Ferdinand of Styria to succeed him, Eleonore hurriedly makes her final preparations, informing Thurn that Christian of Saxony will stand for election as King of Bohemia and that if he is elected he will accept the crown.

The final political blow is struck by Christian himself, who writes, publishes and distributes a public Letter to the Estates of the Kingdom of Bohemia. In it, he pledges himself to respect the freedoms of the Bohemian nobility, to maintain the principle of freedom of worship for all Christians within Bohemia, and to govern Bohemia for its own well-being rather than use its resources to fund projects elsewhere in his domains. This last point speaks to long term Bohemian complaints against the Habsburgs.

Despite Eleonore’s designs long having been an open secret in Protestant Europe, when the estates actually met in Prague and the Habsburgs discovered Christian of Saxony was standing as an alternative king, they were shocked beyond words. That shock turned to anger when the Bohemian estates voted overwhelmingly to elect Christian king over Ferdinand of Styria.

Almost immediately, a Saxon army of 12,000 under the leadership of Christian crosses the border into Bohemia to claim his crown. He is met on the way largely by enthusiastic crowds. In Prague, he is crowned the King of Bohemia, and Elizabeth of Scotland Queen.

The Habsburgs, in disarray, decamp from Prague. The Emperor Matthias appeals for a negotiated settlement, and his chief advisor Melchior Klesl proposes a settlement by which Bohemia would pass to the Saxon Elector, but lose its vote for Emperor to the Duke of Bavaria. This would correct the historical oddity by which Bohemia could be technically outside the Empire and the German nation and yet cast a vote for its ruler. Though totally unacceptable to Maximilian of Austria and Ferdinand of Styria, this option leads the Electress Eleonore—in an apparent double-cross of Frederick V of Palatinate and Christian of Anhalt—to send Klesl a favorable response.

Ultimately, the Habsburgs’ response to the crisis is to declare the election invalid, since the Emperor Rudolf II had by a prior decree (since rescinded) made the Bohemian throne hereditary. They thus claim Ferdinand is the King of Bohemia regardless of the actions by the estates.

Essentially, with the exception of Brandenburg’s unsettling silence, the German principalities divide by religion, with the Protestant Princes and their Evangelical Union supporting the Wettin King of Bohemia, and the Catholic League championing the Habsburgs.

The Electress Elizabeth of Scotland gives birth to a third child and second son, Edward.

1618
Christian I enjoys a major triumph when the nobles of Silesia, Lusatia and Moravia, all historically bound to the Kingdom of Bohemia, announce they will follow Bohemia proper and accept his rule. Thus Christian becomes Duke of Silesia, Duke of Lusatia, and Margrave of Moravia. In each case he grants extensive liberties to the nobility and freedom of worship to virtually all Christians. In a special decree, he in fact establishes the positive right of Catholics to engage in religious processions free from interference, and moreover in Bohemia he decides some disputes over the construction of new Protestant churches in a fashion favorable to the Catholics, moves which disappoints many Calvinists and other radical Protestants in his territories, but which is obviously meant to make it more difficult for the Habsburgs to win support from their Catholic co-religionists.

Christian also visits the capitals of Moravia, Silesia, and Lusatia in a hurried tour to establish his bonds with each people, recruit troops for his army, and establish his rapport with the local nobility. In Brno, Christian meets Jan Amos Comenius, a holy man of the Protestant Unity of the Brethren, who almost immediately becomes a trusted advisor.

Saxony continues to mobilize, and by year’s end Christian possesses an army of 25,000 at Prague, his uncle Albert an army of approximately 20,000 at Wittenberg, with more forces at hand under Gabriel Bethlen in Transylvania and Frederick V in the Palatinate. Christian of Anhalt also brings the vehemently anti-Habsburg Duke Charles Emmanuel of Savoy into the alliance. In turn, Charles Emmanuel dispatches an army of mercenaries led by Ernest von Mansfeld to Bohemia.

On the Habsburgs’ side, there is a belated realization of how desperate matters are. The dying Emperor’s Matthias’s efforts to negotiate a compromise settlement, and the Electress Eleonore’s apparent encouragement of these efforts—whether out of a sincere wish to avoid bloodshed, or more likely, to play the Emperor against Ferdinand and Maximilian for as long as possible—prevent a coherent Habsburg response to the crisis.

Ferdinand and Maximilian, denied the resources of the rich lands of Bohemia, Silesia, Lusatia and Moravia, and lacking the support of the Emperor to move against Saxony, reach a series of agreements with friendly Catholic princes. Maximilian I of Bavaria agrees to lead the armies of the Catholic League to retake Bohemia, in exchange for the Upper Palatinate, the territories of the former Brandenburg-Kulmbach now subsumed within Saxony, and that part of Franconia under the control of the Hessian Landgraves. The Habsburg archdukes also send emissaries to Poland, where they promise Sigismund III Vasa Silesia and Lusatia in return for his assistance. Sigismund III Vasa’s response is not immediately forthcoming, chiefly because he is preoccupied by a war with Russia. A similar entreaty to King Henry IV of France falls on deaf ears, not least because Henry far prefers dealing with the Wettins than with his country’s ancestral enemies the Habsburgs. Finally, the Habsburgs entreat the Elector John Sigismund of Brandenburg to break with his longtime allies the Saxons, promising him the lands of Brunswick and Madgeburg in exchange merely for his permission to allow foreign armies to cross his territory to strike at Saxony, and his vote at the election of the next Emperor.

Elizabeth Kettler of Bohemia bears another son to the Duke Albert, Augustus.

1619
The Emperor Matthias dies. Almost immediately, the armies of the Catholic League under Tilly cross the frontier of Austria into Bohemia.

In a dazzling bit of misdirection, Gabriel Bethlen times the start of the Catholic invasion of Bohemia to lead his Transylvanian army into Royal Hungary, overwhelming the Habsburg defenses there and defeating a Habsburg army at Kecskemet. Technically, this is the first battle of the First General European War.

Then in Bohemia at Tabor, the armies of Count Tilly and the Elector Christian meet, with Tilly’s 17,000 infantry and 6,000 cavalry matching the Elector’s 19,500 infantry and 8,000 cavalry. Though Tilly’s forces are better trained, the Elector has a greater number of his infantry wielding guns, and fields a great number of small artillery pieces that are easily movable around the battlefield. The result is a narrow Saxon victory. Tilly withdraws to Budejovice, a Catholic stronghold in southern Bohemia. The Saxon-Bohemian army does not immediately have the resources to pursue.

Habsburg emissaries had approached Sigismund III Vasa about the possibility of intervening in the war in exchange for grand territorial concessions in 1618, but Sigismund had not been able to reply immediately because of his war with Russia, the Dymitriads. However, in December 1618 Sigismund III Vasa signed the Truce of Deulino with Russia, ending the war on positive terms and enabling him to look west. Sigismund III Vasa, while not innately interested in interfering in German politics, remembers disdainfully the long history of the Elector Alexander’s meddling with his rule, and his contributions to Sigismund’s deposition in Sweden by Charles IX. Free for the time being from his problems with Russia, he now readies to invade Silesia.

The general assumption is that hazards of war will prevent the Electors from convening to choose a new Emperor. That makes it all the more surprising when the electors representing the prince-bishops of Trier, Cologne and Mainz meet with the representative of the Elector of Brandenburg in Frankfurt and elect Ferdinand of Styria Emperor Ferdinand II, without Ferdinand’s representative even casting a questionable vote on the part of his master for himself as King of Bohemia. The Elector John Sigismund of Brandenburg explains to the Saxon ambassador afterwards that this was not in response to any inducements but a desire to prevent the critical destabilization of the empire and the start of a general war. Nonetheless, the Electress Eleonore is furious at the apparent betrayal.

In some respects, however, the point becomes moot when late in the year John Sigismund himself dies, succeeded by his son George Frederick.

Gabriel Bethlen successfully occupies Budapest. Encouraged by Christian and Eleonore to believe he will be allowed to keep Hungary for his prize if he fights the Habsburgs to the end from the east, he makes ready to attack Vienna.

The Spanish general Spinola leads an invasion of the Saxon lands in the west before the Elector’s brother William, recently returned from Hafen, is able to properly organize his own defensive force of 7,000 soldiers. Feigning an assault on the fortress of Julich, Spinola instead lands a successful blow on the Saxon army at Dusseldorf, which is sacked. At that point the Spanish army of some 16,000 faces the army of the Elector of Palatinate marching from the south, with 13,000 soldiers. The two armies face each other at Coblenz, where the Elector is defeated.

Elizabeth of Scotland continues with astonishing fecundity to bear children: she gives birth to another girl, also named Elizabeth.

1620
Realizing the situation in the Rhineland is rapidly degrading by the day, Eleonore pleads with Frederick Augustus to intervene but finds him unwilling to break his truce with Spain prematurely. At that point, Eleonore wins the permission of Christian to go on a foreign mission to win military assistance. Having a longstanding friendship with Henry IV of France, she undertakes to travel to France overland in the company of the French ambassador, disguised as a serving-woman.

Eleonore is scarcely out of Wittenberg when word arrives of an imminent Polish invasion. Albert leads his army into Lusatia and camps near Cottbus, anticipating a Polish drive into Lusatia or Silesia.

Instead, Sigismund III Vasa and Ferdinand II reach an accommodation with the Elector George Frederick of Brandenburg that entails a shocking betrayal by the Elector of his mother, Eleonore, and the other Wettins: George Frederick agrees to permit the Polish army to cross his territory in exchange for the promise of the lands of Lower Saxony, which would allow Brandenburg to stretch to the North Sea. The Polish army of 30,000 is passing through Berlin by the time Albert understands he has been outmaneuvered.

Sensing they cannot take Wittenberg outright just yet, the Polish army wheels west in an effort to take Madgeburg and draw out the Saxon forces from their defenses. They defeat the skeleton defensive force of undertrained militiamen at Halberstadt and lay siege to Madgeburg, preliminary to attacking Wittenberg itself.

In Bohemia, Count Tilly makes another attempt at Prague. The Elector Christian intercepts his forces at Pribram. The result is once again a narrow and indecisive defeat for Tilly, who retreats to Strakonice. Sensing the opportunity to gain decisive advantage, the Elector Christian lays siege to Strakonice and plans to make use of his army’s extensive siege experience from the Dutch Rebellion and the War of the Julich Succession. However, he is forced to raise the siege when word reaches him of the Polish invasion and the Saxon defeat at Halberstadt.

Leaving his Bohemian volunteers behind to defend Prague under the generalship of Count Thurn, he races north to intercept the Poles.

In a stroke of luck for the Saxons, Gabriel Bethlen at this moment defeats the Austrians at Pressburg, requiring Tilly himself to break off his offensive against Prague to withdraw and defend Vienna.

Finally, Eleonore arrives in Paris only to find that King Henry IV has died, and his successor Louis XIII unwilling to eager to her proposal for a partition of the Netherlands between the rebels and France in exchange for French involvement in the war against the Habsburgs. Soon afterwards, she receives word of the defeat at Halberstadt, triggering one of her few public displays of tears in her long public life.

In the west, Spinola finds himself unable to take any of the important fortresses guarding the Rhine, as William’s forces harass his own without venturing open combat. Finally, Frederick of the Palatinate and William of Saxony together manage to fight Spinola to a draw in the Battle of the Lippe.
 
See, this is what happens when you try to orchestrate an attempt to seize the Empire!

Lovin' it so far, although I'm not so certain that the Netherlands would be upset with Grotius' chancellery (gets him out of their hair, at least), although it does lead to interesting implications- Arminians were as much a political group as they were theological, and as (in OTL) Prince Maurice of Orange supported the orthodox Gomarists/Counter-Remonstrants, Arminians became Republicans and Anti-Orangists at the same time they pushed their creed.
 
I'm glad you're enjoying this, because I'm enjoying writing it! And I do hope the characters are coming through. Eleonore just seems to write herself, really--driven, indomitable and just a wee bit crazy.

And I'm also glad you mention Arminianism because none of the things I'm reading seems to give a very clear timetable for when it becomes a real part of the intellectual debate, other than to say after Arminius's death. So I'm a bit at a loss for how to insert things about them into the timeline, although at this point obviously other very big things are going on. So if you have ideas to share about when Arminianism can be said to be a real school of thought in Europe, that would be great.

I've been reading Wedgwood on the Thirty Years War and I think that's really helped me to nail the chaotic feel of the events, which oddly seems ratcheted up here because the German Protestant and Catholic forces are more or less evenly matched and Poland is intervening on the side of the Catholics, which they didn't do in actual history.

The interesting thing at this point is that I have a vague idea how it's going to end (with an absolutely huge surprise), but not really when. My Wettins are going to make it out of this, and may even get out of it with their hearts' desire in some form or other, but there's going to be the sense that they've had to make enormous sacrifices to get it, and that even then they were enormously lucky just to have survived.

And some, obviously, won't.

See, this is what happens when you try to orchestrate an attempt to seize the Empire!

Lovin' it so far, although I'm not so certain that the Netherlands would be upset with Grotius' chancellery (gets him out of their hair, at least), although it does lead to interesting implications- Arminians were as much a political group as they were theological, and as (in OTL) Prince Maurice of Orange supported the orthodox Gomarists/Counter-Remonstrants, Arminians became Republicans and Anti-Orangists at the same time they pushed their creed.
 
Elector Alexander I the Merciful, An Appreciation.


If the essence of the historical reputation of the Elector Frederick Henry is told in official portraiture, the core of the Elector Alexander’s legend is related through satire. The heroic legend of Frederick Henry has blinded ensuing generations to the historical fact, to borrow the simile of the historian Adenauer, in the way the sun’s brightness prevents its study by the naked eye. An even-handed or critical appraisal of the victor of the first Schmalkaldic War being thus impossible, his son Alexander has always suffered from the inevitable comparisons to an unattainable ideal. Or, as it was most famously phrased by the English playwright Ben Jonson in Alexander’s own lifetime, “his one flaw is that he is not the, or even a particularly, holy prince.”


This diminishment of Alexander is expressed also in the adoption of his memorial descriptive nickname. Whereas his father Frederick Henry famously disclaimed any effort during his life or after his to re-title himself “Frederick Henry the Great” or such similar, and thus betrayed the modesty essential to that prince’s character, the Elector Alexander had constantly tried to modify the descriptors added to his name. Various chroniclers and historians during his life called him Alexander “the Sly”, “the Crafty”, “the Rich”, “the Careful”, and “the Diplomatic.” Broadsheets during his reign regularly infuriated him by giving him such vividly insulting descriptive as “the Greedy”, “the Cowardly” and even “the Jew-like.”


Much of the problem is that in an era when German rulers were still usually expected to serve as generals, Alexander never led soldiers into battle, a situation made worse by the heroic example set by Alexander’s father. In addition to Alexander’s distaste for the military, his reputation was perversely harmed by his strengths as a ruler. The sneering remark of one French wag—that Alexander “never failed to bring his chess-board to duel”— has always punctuated the perception of the Elector Alexander as a cynic, an intriguer, a heartless Macchiavellian.


Nevertheless, for all this, Alexander was one of the most highly effective rulers of sixteenth century Europe. Like his contemporary Elizabeth of England, Alexander prized stability and disdained large-scale warfare as wasteful and dangerous. However, unlike Elizabeth, the Elector Alexander was an ingenious innovator of political and economic institutions. With his similarly brilliant chancellor, advisor and friend Duke Julius of Lower Saxony, Alexander masterminded far-reaching economic and political reforms that for all intents and purposes created the modern Saxon state. Thus, he instituted tax reforms in 1560, his reforms of the usury laws in 1563, the plan for the government of the Lutheran Church in 1567, the codification of the laws of Saxony and the reform of the courts from 1568 on, the lifting of privileges of the free and imperial cities in 1569, the public backing of foreign trade contracts in 1574, the creation of the trade police in 1575, the founding of the postal system in 1581, the disastrous tariffs of 1583, the General Congress in 1585 and the first Estates-General the year in 1587, the introduction of greater competition between crafts guilds in 1598, and the curbing of feudal privileges in 1604.


By themselves, these reforms would be enough to make the 52 years of Alexander’s reign pivotal in the evolution of Saxony: inheriting a still largely feudal medieval realm, he bequeathed to his successor the Elector Christian one of the most institutionally sophisticated states in Europe, a pre-capitalist society co-governed by the Elector and a representative legislature. In the short term, the key effect of these reforms were the extensive promotion of economic growth and the creation of the best-regulated and most stable economy in Europe. Alexander’s overwhelming purpose in pursuing these reforms were in fact precisely their great benefit, as high tax revenues made ambitious projects feasible for the Electorate. In fact, Saxony’s government was enormously enriched over the course of the seventeenth century by this consistent economic growth, with the effect that it steadily became better able to support the burden of a sizeable military over the difficult years of Saxony’s great seventeenth-century cycle of wars. In short, though Saxony grew very little territorially during Alexander’s reign, its later success was due largely to Alexander’s efforts.


Of course, added to these reforms were the consequences of Alexander’s construction of a road network criss-crossing Saxony to facilitate trade, a canal connecting the Elbe and Weser Rivers, and innumerable schools of various types. Alexander also took the extraordinary step of creating a navy for the formerly landlocked Saxon state, a necessary preliminary to the founding in 1579 of Saxony’s great colony in mainland North America, Christlichhafen (later shortened to Hafen). This was followed in 1598 by the Saxon colony on the island of St. Christopher in the Carribean, in 1601 by the Saxons’ Moravian colony on Huss Island off the Great Hook Cape in North America, and in 1604 by Transylvanian German immigrants’ founding of colonies on the Anticosti island in the north and Tobago in the south. From these tentative beginnings emerged a commercially profitable empire that propelled the development of Saxony’s trading fleet.


Alexander’s final years were clouded by the increasing tension with the Emperor Rudolf II, erupting finally into the War of the Julich Succession that cost Alexander his son and heir the Duke John of Saxony but which resulted in substantial acquisitions by Saxony of the lands of Julich, Cleves, Berg, Mark and Ravensberg. However, remarkably, the War of the Julich Succession was the first large-scale war by Saxony in Germany in fifty-five years, since Frederick Henry won the Second Schmalkaldic War in 1554. This long period of peace was not due to the Elector Alexander alone, but to the forbearance and diplomacy of the Holy Roman Emperors Ferdinand I (1556-1564), Maximilian II (1564-1576) and Rudolf II (1576-1612). All of these Habsburg Catholics had foreign policies at fundamental cross-purposes with Alexander’s, and all of them like Alexander had at some point or other in this long period reason enough to go to war. Yet at these points, Alexander and each of these emperors, especially Rudolf II, worked instead to defuse the situation and find peaceful solutions. At the time, intoxicated by religious zeal and national mythologies, the Saxons and other peoples of Germany did not fully appreciate this commitment to negotiation. However they soon would, with the First General European War beginning not coincidentally just five years after the deaths of Alexander and Rudolf.


Finally, it of course has to be mentioned that the seeds of Alexander’s foreign policy grew into trees that would become important to Europe in ways he did not imagine—backing the Brandon dynasty in England with money and soldiers, enlisting the Bathories in Transylvania for the Saxon cause, aiding the Dutch rebels, even his tragicomic effort to put a Lutheran Piast prince on the throne of Poland—all would eventually shape the history of these respective countries in unexpected ways, and contribute profoundly to the shape of contemporary Europe.


So, whether it is the side-splitting scenes from the German True History of the Saxon Navy or the more sharply satirical English version written by Alexander’s contemporary Ben Jonson, or songs from the musical version first performed three-hundred years later, we can enjoy the deliciously scheming representations of Alexander. Likewise, we can relish the serious and unforgettable portrayal of the Elector by John Malkovich in 1995’s The Taster of Dresden. But we owe it to ourselves to understand the historical figure apart from the entertainment.
 
So I guess we can be expecting some kind of Thirty Years' War but maybe -hopefully- with less marauding bands of mercenaries living off the land? Or will it be more like a "Hundred Years' War" of intermittent smaller wars?

Edit: I know, it's several decades, wars and posts of yours in the future, but I am really looking forward to the Great Turkish War of the late 17th/early 18th century and the way they will be affected by the events of your TL. A stronger, bigger Saxony than OTL seems likely to take a major part.

Aside from that, your timeline continues to amaze me. You obviously have lots of profound knowledge of the era. More importantly, your entries make for damn fine reading. Keep up the good work! I am almost ashamed to admit I have no real contributions to make but to offer praise and exclamations of awe ;)
 
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And I'm also glad you mention Arminianism because none of the things I'm reading seems to give a very clear timetable for when it becomes a real part of the intellectual debate, other than to say after Arminius's death. So I'm a bit at a loss for how to insert things about them into the timeline, although at this point obviously other very big things are going on. So if you have ideas to share about when Arminianism can be said to be a real school of thought in Europe, that would be great.

The Arminian/Gomarist divide is... complicated. The specific platforms and policies of both parties kept changing over time, sort of like Republicans and Democrats over the past ~150 years.

Aminianism pre-1618 was the theology of the city regent classes, Hollanders (yes, specifically Holland), and people who had lived in the northern Netherlands long before the Revolt ever started, while Gomarism/Counter-Remonstrantism was moreso the creed of southern Netherlander Reformed who emigrated north as the Spanish retook the southern States and didn't fare so well economically. Political Arminianism was, in part, representing the dominance of Holland over the United Provinces, and the power of the individual cities. Notable also at this time was that Arminians sometimes pushed for State control of the Church as a moderating influence, while Gomarists/Counter-Remonstrants, therefore, were against state control of the Reformed Church.

This changed in 1618 when Prince Maurice of Orange staged a coup and toppled many leading Arminians, including the Advocate (a position that became extinct after this time) of Holland, Johan van Oldenbarnevelt. Shooting to power with the support of Counter-Remonstrants, Maurice began shutting down Arminian churches throughout the Republic and installing Orangists at the top of most of the states' power structures. Suddenly the state-church relationship positions of Arminians and Gomarists was flipped; Gomarists wanted the state (under Orange) to strictly control and purify the Reformed Church, while Arminians wanted the more tolerance and leeway within the Church. Also notable with the 1618 coup was the victory of the equal-states' party over the Holland-centric party, which was part of the reason for Maurice's support through all this.

Mind you, to both sides “tolerance” was mainly about theological disputes within the Reformed Church. Toleration of other Protestant sects was an economic and political necessity, and the treatment of Catholics veered between that of abusive father and executioner. When Catholics did end up in the political fray, they were usually on the side of Arminians, although the Arminians themselves didn't really like them that much either.

Under Maurice during the Thirty Years' War, Gomarists were the most fervent pro-war of the lot, more for politics and economics than anything else. The States of Zeeland, for example, was strongly Pro-War and Gomarist because wartime boosted the state's economy- Spanish wartime blockades meant that Hollander shipping couldn't go directing to Flemish ports along the coast for trade, and so instead had to pass through Zeeland to enter the Schelde and southern Netherlands. Prince Maurice himself was very supportive of Protestant efforts in the Germanies during this time, as it helped distract Hapsburg forces and keep them from focusing military might on the Netherlands. At this same time, Arminians slowly started becoming the more Republican anti-Orangist party, although this suddenly changed under Frederick Henry after Maurice's death.

Frederick Henry had to struggle to the top all over again, and, much like Prince Maurice had done before him, used the support of the weaker party to rise to the top. Unlike Maurice, the weaker party at this time was the Arminians, so suddenly Orangists started showing up amongst the Arminian-Remonstrants and the Gomarist-Counter-Remonstrants became the embittered opposition.

This back-and-forth happened a lot during the Golden Age, but hopefully you get the general idea. Large-scale violence didn't usually accompany these shifts, except for a few extreme cases in 1618 (Leiden, execution of Oldenbarnevelt), 1650, 1672 (death of Grand Pensionary de Witt), etc.


How did Grotius tie into all that? His big thing was the idea of a Single-Church “Christian Republic,” a nation that practiced but one religion throughout the land and heavily suppressed all other churches not supported by the state, but at the same time encouraged free discussion and debate of doctrinal differences within the State's Church itself. I'm gonna quote from Johnathan Israel here:


“...this outward uniformity [of the church and state] must be combined with internal toleration and doctrinal elasticity. As long as the fundamentals of Christian dogma remain intact, what is secondary should be left open to debate. In a republic which grants liberty of conscience, he [Grotius] argued, there is a constant peril of fragmentation through seeking doctrinal uniformity: an umcompromisingly confessional approach can only lead to inward perforation so that, were the Gomarists to persist, they would break the church into warring pieces.” (The Dutch Republic, 440)


Mind you, Grotius first suggested this in 1616 OTL, so things could certainly change there. Furthermore, Grotius wasn't completely correct: although the Gomarist pursuit of doctrinal uniformity did result in some political coups and the rise of the Arminian party, it didn't break apart more than that during the Golden Age, and fared quite well compared to, say, the Dutch Anabaptists.


I think I'm mostly right here, but it's always good to get a second opinion.

Also, it only sort of answers your question.
 
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Dr. Waterhouse

Good updates. As you say Alexander was vital to the success of Saxony's growth as he laid the economic, technological and political foundations for it. Sounds like there are stormy times ahead and that will play a key part in them coming through OK. The behaviour of Brandenburg is however going to hurt a lot. Rather surprised that Eleonore's son agreed to that, although Brandenburg potentially has a lot to gain if Saxony was defeated and the alliance against it kept their word of course. Agree that Eleonore is a fascinating character.:D

Steve
 
First, thank you so much for the encouragement. I'm actually learning a huge amount about this as I go. One of my worries is that it's all just going to get too bogged down in detail, but the material is just so interesting and rich to me that I want to cram more in.

I don't want to say too much about where "the First General War" goes, and think I may have already said too much already. But one of the ancillary things I thought it would be neat to do when I set out to write this would be to imagine a central Europe not depopulated and destroyed by thirty solid years of warfare. So there's going to be significant bloodletting for a while yet to come, and the crisis is going to stay fairly hot, but we're not going to see the self-immolation of Germany in the same way we see in our own history.

That you mention the Ottoman Empire and the Turkish wars is really interesting, because I actually do have the basic plot of that figured out, and it's pretty heart-rending. One of the interesting things that happen as I conceptualize this is that as "the Thirty Years War" shrinks a bit in significance, some other crises grow in theirs.

One spoiler about the Ottomans I will say is that a very major player in European history lives longer than in our timeline, and that this has ramifications for the Ottomans that are pretty significant.

So I guess we can be expecting some kind of Thirty Years' War but maybe -hopefully- with less marauding bands of mercenaries living off the land? Or will it be more like a "Hundred Years' War" of intermittent smaller wars?

Edit: I know, it's several decades, wars and posts of yours in the future, but I am really looking forward to the Great Turkish War of the late 17th/early 18th century and the way they will be affected by the events of your TL. A stronger, bigger Saxony than OTL seems likely to take a major part.

Aside from that, your timeline continues to amaze me. You obviously have lots of profound knowledge of the era. More importantly, your entries make for damn fine reading. Keep up the good work! I am almost ashamed to admit I have no real contributions to make but to offer praise and exclamations of awe ;)
 
Thanks, Steve. I think the Brandenburg stuff has been the hardest part to figure out and to write. My original plan was something along the lines of Eleonore's initial scheme with Christian of Anhalt in the timeline: Saxony, Brandenburg and the Palatinate divide the spoils of the Habsburgs beforehand, but by virtue of the superior institutions Saxony comes through better than its allies/competitors.

Then I got hold of Wedgwood's book on the Thirty Years War and saw some of the intrafamilial and religious division in the Hohenzollerns in our own history, and examined some of the behaviors of these same Electors (who remember, sided with Ferdinand against Frederick in the first stage of the Thirty Years War) and I realized how much more realistic, and interesting, and dramatic to have there be this spectacular betrayal.

The ramifications of these events are going to cast a very long shadow.

Last, I'm really looking forward to writing the biographical note about Eleonore, and have ideas already as to how she becomes this outsized personality with such enormous influence. Interestingly enough, her historical reputation is not going to be like the other idolized early modern female rulers like Elizabeth of England, Christina of Sweden or Isabella of Aragon. No, instead modern Germany is fairly ambivalent about Eleonore and everything she wrought.

Dr. Waterhouse

Good updates. As you say Alexander was vital to the success of Saxony's growth as he laid the economic, technological and political foundations for it. Sounds like there are stormy times ahead and that will play a key part in them coming through OK. The behaviour of Brandenburg is however going to hurt a lot. Rather surprised that Eleonore's son agreed to that, although Brandenburg potentially has a lot to gain if Saxony was defeated and the alliance against it kept their word of course. Agree that Eleonore is a fascinating character.:D

Steve
 
Thank you thank you thank you.

The sources I've been consulting were explaining Arminianism primarily as a theological matter and it seemed to me at the time even that something was missing in that. I'm surprised to see how much in fact was. So this actually does better than just answer my question.

So your explanation of all this is very valuable (and also very clearly written, by the way).

And this is the second time you've mentioned Israel's book to me. It's certainly going to be what I read immediately after Wedgwood on the Thirty Years War. And Neal Stephenson's "The Confusion."

The Arminian/Gomarist divide is... complicated. The specific platforms and policies of both parties kept changing over time, sort of like Republicans and Democrats over the past ~150 years.

Aminianism pre-1618 was the theology of the city regent classes, Hollanders (yes, specifically Holland), and people who had lived in the northern Netherlands long before the Revolt ever started, while Gomarism/Counter-Remonstrantism was moreso the creed of southern Netherlander Reformed who emigrated north as the Spanish retook the southern States and didn't fare so well economically. Political Arminianism was, in part, representing the dominance of Holland over the United Provinces, and the power of the individual cities. Notable also at this time was that Arminians sometimes pushed for State control of the Church as a moderating influence, while Gomarists/Counter-Remonstrants, therefore, were against state control of the Reformed Church.

This changed in 1618 when Prince Maurice of Orange staged a coup and toppled many leading Arminians, including the Advocate (a position that became extinct after this time) of Holland, Johan van Oldenbarnevelt. Shooting to power with the support of Counter-Remonstrants, Maurice began shutting down Arminian churches throughout the Republic and installing Orangists at the top of most of the states' power structures. Suddenly the state-church relationship positions of Arminians and Gomarists was flipped; Gomarists wanted the state (under Orange) to strictly control and purify the Reformed Church, while Arminians wanted the more tolerance and leeway within the Church. Also notable with the 1618 coup was the victory of the equal-states' party over the Holland-centric party, which was part of the reason for Maurice's support through all this.

Mind you, to both sides “tolerance” was mainly about theological disputes within the Reformed Church. Toleration of other Protestant sects was an economic and political necessity, and the treatment of Catholics veered between that of abusive father and executioner. When Catholics did end up in the political fray, they were usually on the side of Arminians, although the Arminians themselves didn't really like them that much either.

Under Maurice during the Thirty Years' War, Gomarists were the most fervent pro-war of the lot, more for politics and economics than anything else. The States of Zeeland, for example, was strongly Pro-War and Gomarist because wartime boosted the state's economy- Spanish wartime blockades meant that Hollander shipping couldn't go directing to Flemish ports along the coast for trade, and so instead had to pass through Zeeland to enter the Schelde and southern Netherlands. Prince Maurice himself was very supportive of Protestant efforts in the Germanies during this time, as it helped distract Hapsburg forces and keep them from focusing military might on the Netherlands. At this same time, Arminians slowly started becoming the more Republican anti-Orangist party, although this suddenly changed under Frederick Henry after Maurice's death.

Frederick Henry had to struggle to the top all over again, and, much like Prince Maurice had done before him, used the support of the weaker party to rise to the top. Unlike Maurice, the weaker party at this time was the Arminians, so suddenly Orangists started showing up amongst the Arminian-Remonstrants and the Gomarist-Counter-Remonstrants became the embittered opposition.

This back-and-forth happened a lot during the Golden Age, but hopefully you get the general idea. Large-scale violence didn't usually accompany these shifts, except for a few extreme cases in 1618 (Leiden, execution of Oldenbarnevelt), 1650, 1672 (death of Grand Pensionary de Witt), etc.


How did Grotius tie into all that? His big thing was the idea of a Single-Church “Christian Republic,” a nation that practiced but one religion throughout the land and heavily suppressed all other churches not supported by the state, but at the same time encouraged free discussion and debate of doctrinal differences within the State's Church itself. I'm gonna quote from Johnathan Israel here:


“...this outward uniformity [of the church and state] must be combined with internal toleration and doctrinal elasticity. As long as the fundamentals of Christian dogma remain intact, what is secondary should be left open to debate. In a republic which grants liberty of conscience, he [Grotius] argued, there is a constant peril of fragmentation through seeking doctrinal uniformity: an umcompromisingly confessional approach can only lead to inward perforation so that, were the Gomarists to persist, they would break the church into warring pieces.” (The Dutch Republic, 440)


Mind you, Grotius first suggested this in 1616 OTL, so things could certainly change there. Furthermore, Grotius wasn't completely correct: although the Gomarist pursuit of doctrinal uniformity did result in some political coups and the rise of the Arminian party, it didn't break apart more than that during the Golden Age, and fared quite well compared to, say, the Dutch Anabaptists.


I think I'm mostly right here, but it's always good to get a second opinion.

Also, it only sort of answers your question.
 
Thank you thank you thank you.

The sources I've been consulting were explaining Arminianism primarily as a theological matter and it seemed to me at the time even that something was missing in that. I'm surprised to see how much in fact was. So this actually does better than just answer my question.
Pfft, religion in the Early Modern Era was always about politics. Theology was just a pretext for the Count of Hindenzeppelberg to invade Lower Thuriginian-Albertine Groberplatzenfestungschloss. For an author to focus solely on the theological aspects of religion is for him or her to completely miss the point.

So your explanation of all this is very valuable (and also very clearly written, by the way).
Aw, shucks.

And this is the second time you've mentioned Israel's book to me. It's certainly going to be what I read immediately after Wedgwood on the Thirty Years War. And Neal Stephenson's "The Confusion."
Israel's knowledge is limited to the Low Countries for the most part, but what he knows about the region goes deep. His writing is very dense, mind you, and by the end of most of his books it's obvious that the editor has long given up on fixing all of Israel's punctuation and sentence structure issues. If you can get over that, it's good stuff.

But yeah, you should totally read Stephenson's Baroque Cycle first. It's fucking awesome.



...now I wanna look up Wedgwood and the Thirty Years' War.
 
Ofaloaf:

C.V. Wedgwood is delightful because she's very much the 1930's English scholar. Everything is crisply written, conversational even, and filled with hilarious little details (last night I was reading how when the Catholic armies of Ferdinand captured Prague, they were scandalized by the choice of reading material the free-thinking Elizabeth the Winter Queen had left strewn about her bedchamber). But. Everything is also explained in terms of personalities, reducible to simple morals (German society decayed because their rulers sat at a table eating and drinking for seven hours at a time) and not terribly explanatory of the large impersonal forces and ideas that we are used to thinking of history as being about. So for the purpose of researching a timeline, she's ideal, because Wedgwood explains the people to you and tells you what they do. But it's not the same kind of party as I gather an author like Israel is, where we're really grappling with what makes a nation a certain way at a certain time in its history.
 
Dr. Waterhouse, this is a fantastic time line and I'm enjoying every single post, as a fan of many a Paradox Game these kinds of stories, with all the dynastic intrigue and continental scheming, well, they play right up my alley :D

Eleonore does seem to be a truly fascinating character, and mostly because a historian friend of mine has mentioned her on more than one occasion, she seems to be in the mold of Eleonore of Aquitaine as well.

One little nitpick though in what is an otherwise fantastic read: in your post about the quadricentennial of the crowning of Frederick I Brandon, you mention the Revolution and basically make it known that France is no longer a monarchy. I'm just thinking that, with a PoD in the 16th Century, it would be hard to justify events unfolding as in OTL in France, considering how serious it had to get before the monarchy could fall, and again considering just how hard it was for France to stay a republic (they would have had a king after Napoleon III, they just couldn't agree on a candidate).
 
One little nitpick though in what is an otherwise fantastic read: in your post about the quadricentennial of the crowning of Frederick I Brandon, you mention the Revolution and basically make it known that France is no longer a monarchy. I'm just thinking that, with a PoD in the 16th Century, it would be hard to justify events unfolding as in OTL in France, considering how serious it had to get before the monarchy could fall, and again considering just how hard it was for France to stay a republic (they would have had a king after Napoleon III, they just couldn't agree on a candidate).
Actually, there was a good window of opportunity for French Republicans during the chaos of the Wars of Religion- both Huguenots and Catholics pushed for a Republic at one point or another, and it could've happened if the right leaders fucked up at the right times. It was really only after Louis XIV and all that Absolutism that the idea of a French Republic sounded so Revolutionary.

'Sides, this would've been a 16th/17th-century Republic, and probably not a carbon copy of the First French Republic that we all know and love. The average pre-Revolutionary early modern Republic was either an oligarchy or a confederacy, and some sort of confederate system would've probably been more likely for France. More provincial in-fighting and political intrigue that way.
 
Actually, this is a fascinating question that goes straight to the most vexing theoretical question about all this: when does the butterflies from an event in my timeline spread so much that the people living in the events around that event become completely different? For instance, our world's Maurice of Nassau is my timeline's Frederick Augustus. One is a placeholder for the other, with the same father and the same basic early life but a different mother (although both are named, ironically, Anna of Saxony).

In this case, we have the Bourbons. I've already screwed around with them a little by having Henry IV rule a decade or so longer than in our timeline by not being assassinated. We can say that perhaps Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu are a bit too established by other events for the events of what's going on now to be changed substantially. But of course the crucial figure for everything we're talking about is actually Louis XIV. Is he going to be the same person?

My personal rule is that it's probably be better to stay closer to our timeline's events and assume fewer changes or different personalities based on chance. So for instance I'm not going to bother theorizing what if one of Louis XIII's dead infant heirs born before Louis XIV grows up and become king, though I guess that might be interesting. Instead, and partly my reasoning here is just that it's more fun, is that I'm going to stick to familiar personalities for as long as possible.

This is made easier actually by the fact that my Wettins are Protestants. The family trees of England and Scotland and the ruling houses of Germany are already almost unrecognizable simply because of my Saxony's export of marriageable daughters.

But remember there are fewer Catholic ruling houses in this time period (both real world and in my timeline). This is why the family trees of France, Spain and Bavaria look like some kind of crazy feedback loop with a little bit of Savoy thrown in occasionally. And my Wettins aren't marrying into those royal houses for obvious reasons. And neither are my Brandons. (Why, cousin Oliver--who we will be meeting shortly--would positively kill Henry X if he thought one of the princesses of the realm were to be married off to--horrors--some Papist Spaniard).

By the way, it's as an extension of this principle that I'm thinking the last European sovereign my timeline and the real history will have in common will be Peter I of Russia, precisely because German royalty and nobility isn't marrying into the Romanovs in the seventeenth century the same way they do in the eighteenth century.

So I'm pretty sure we'll see a Louis XIV pretty much like the one we all know and love (and the Spanish Habsburgs are going to meet the precise same end as they do in real-world history, though the politics surrounding that succession crisis will play out differently). But after that matters are probably going to diverge. My plan is for a French Revolution at the end of the eighteenth century, and my reasoning is that I think overarching historical forces yield the Revolution rather than the actions of one or two specific kings. (It's going to be a bit different, though).

One thing (and here I am getting so far ahead of myself it's not funny, considering how long it takes me to right a decade of this timeline) that I do feel confident saying however is that we will not see Napoleon, partly because I think commoners' births are more contingent than royalty in a certain historical way.

But there will be a French Revolution, and it will have as its greatest leader a figure who is actually familiar to us from our own history, but with him I will split the difference and have him be a somewhat different person than the one we know.




Dr. Waterhouse, this is a fantastic time line and I'm enjoying every single post, as a fan of many a Paradox Game these kinds of stories, with all the dynastic intrigue and continental scheming, well, they play right up my alley :D

Eleonore does seem to be a truly fascinating character, and mostly because a historian friend of mine has mentioned her on more than one occasion, she seems to be in the mold of Eleonore of Aquitaine as well.

One little nitpick though in what is an otherwise fantastic read: in your post about the quadricentennial of the crowning of Frederick I Brandon, you mention the Revolution and basically make it known that France is no longer a monarchy. I'm just thinking that, with a PoD in the 16th Century, it would be hard to justify events unfolding as in OTL in France, considering how serious it had to get before the monarchy could fall, and again considering just how hard it was for France to stay a republic (they would have had a king after Napoleon III, they just couldn't agree on a candidate).
 
Actually, this is a fascinating question that goes straight to the most vexing theoretical question about all this: when does the butterflies from an event in my timeline spread so much that the people living in the events around that event become completely different? For instance, our world's Maurice of Nassau is my timeline's Frederick Augustus. One is a placeholder for the other, with the same father and the same basic early life but a different mother (although both are named, ironically, Anna of Saxony).

In this case, we have the Bourbons. I've already screwed around with them a little by having Henry IV rule a decade or so longer than in our timeline by not being assassinated. We can say that perhaps Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu are a bit too established by other events for the events of what's going on now to be changed substantially. But of course the crucial figure for everything we're talking about is actually Louis XIV. Is he going to be the same person?

My personal rule is that it's probably be better to stay closer to our timeline's events and assume fewer changes or different personalities based on chance. So for instance I'm not going to bother theorizing what if one of Louis XIII's dead infant heirs born before Louis XIV grows up and become king, though I guess that might be interesting. Instead, and partly my reasoning here is just that it's more fun, is that I'm going to stick to familiar personalities for as long as possible.

This is made easier actually by the fact that my Wettins are Protestants. The family trees of England and Scotland and the ruling houses of Germany are already almost unrecognizable simply because of my Saxony's export of marriageable daughters.

But remember there are fewer Catholic ruling houses in this time period (both real world and in my timeline). This is why the family trees of France, Spain and Bavaria look like some kind of crazy feedback loop with a little bit of Savoy thrown in occasionally. And my Wettins aren't marrying into those royal houses for obvious reasons. And neither are my Brandons. (Why, cousin Oliver--who we will be meeting shortly--would positively kill Henry X if he thought one of the princesses of the realm were to be married off to--horrors--some Papist Spaniard).

By the way, it's as an extension of this principle that I'm thinking the last European sovereign my timeline and the real history will have in common will be Peter I of Russia, precisely because German royalty and nobility isn't marrying into the Romanovs in the seventeenth century the same way they do in the eighteenth century.

So I'm pretty sure we'll see a Louis XIV pretty much like the one we all know and love (and the Spanish Habsburgs are going to meet the precise same end as they do in real-world history, though the politics surrounding that succession crisis will play out differently). But after that matters are probably going to diverge. My plan is for a French Revolution at the end of the eighteenth century, and my reasoning is that I think overarching historical forces yield the Revolution rather than the actions of one or two specific kings. (It's going to be a bit different, though).

One thing (and here I am getting so far ahead of myself it's not funny, considering how long it takes me to right a decade of this timeline) that I do feel confident saying however is that we will not see Napoleon, partly because I think commoners' births are more contingent than royalty in a certain historical way.

But there will be a French Revolution, and it will have as its greatest leader a figure who is actually familiar to us from our own history, but with him I will split the difference and have him be a somewhat different person than the one we know.
An interesting thought occurs to me: it might have been interesting to, during Henry IV's rule, have him become more openly Calvinist, or at the very least, look for a way to resolve the religious conflicts in France, and with Saxony providing such a great example of tolerant religious policies (albeit in a protestant setting), Henry IV might have taken up that example in France, especially if he's reigning for an extra 10 years. But alas, Henry IV's chance has passed ITTL (although I'm sure you could do something intersting with Louis XIII, with a protestant father around for longer, it could have a serious impact on his religion and faith).

I also think personally that the French Revolution wasn't exactly inexorabe, it was more a long streak of bad luck that ended very, very badly. The state had to be bankrupt repeatedly before the solid foundations the monarchy was built on were eroded to the point where the Revolution was feasible.
 
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