army of ordinary people,” who stood with the king.122 In 1158, Vladislav II announced his intention to participate in the imperial campaign against Milan, for which he had already promised troops. The chronicler, Vincent, who himself traveled to Italy with the army, reports that throughout the realm there was great excitement as everyone readied their weapons and bade farewell to their families. Even the peasants, he says, put down their ploughs for swords: “In their songs and in their words the seige of Milan resounded; everywhere arms were prepared and arms were repaired, and not only the youth of the nobles but also many from the people, throwing off peasant work, fit their hands, more suited to hoes and ploughshares than to shields, lances and the rest, to military arms.”123
Later still, concerning 1174, Gerlach of Milevsko says of Duke Soběslav II: “Whenever an expedition loomed before him, when his magnates were in chariots and on horses, he was not confident unless he saw the poor people also with him, some on horses, others footsoldiers, according to the means of each.”124 Some of these “poor people” had sufficient resources to fight mounted, indicating that this was a practical matter rather than a privilege. By the late twelfth century, military service among the lowest ranks of freemen may have become exceptional, however, since Gerlach describes Soběslav’s reliance on ordinary men as something unusual. Still, these passing references provide clear evidence, even for the later twelfth century, that more than an elite group of freemen were prepared for and accustomed to warfare, and that they expected to serve at the duke’s call.
The duke’s right to impose a universal muster is reflected not only by campaigns in which lesser freemen served, but by the exemptions from service he granted. In the case of the Milan campaign, for instance, the duke did not in fact mandate universal participation. When Vladislav II announced to the men at court his plans to proceed against Milan, they objected strenuously to his promising aid to the emperor without consulting them. He therefore absolved them from mandatory service while offering rich rewards to those willing to join him. Vincent of Prague ascribes these words to the duke: “Whoever intends to help me in this matter, I will adorn him with fitting honor and the money necessary for this, as is proper. But whoever declines, content with women’s games and leisure, may sit at home secure in my peace.”125 Vincent tells a similar story of the objection to Vladislav’s plan to intervene in a Hungarian succession crisis, although on that occasion the magnates joined without delay once release was granted.126 Selected documents also show the duke granting permanent exemption from obligatory military service. In a mid-twelfth-century charter for the bishop of Olomouc, the duke declares that the Moravian vice-dukes may not press the bishop’s people, whether free or servile, into military service: “no one should dare disturb them for the rebuilding of castles located in that land or for going on any kind of campaign.”127 Similar immunity was given to Hradiště in 1160.128 The Germans of Prague were absolved from fighting unless pro patria, but they remained obliged to defend the city if the duke was away.129 It was surely a mark of their exceptional position in the land for these Germans to be released from military service, but even they—merchants probably—were responsible for defense.
When the duke absolved the bishop’s men from military service, as protection against the unscrupulous exercise of the rights held in his name by the Moravian vice-dukes, the absolution was directly linked with exemption from building castles; so also at Hradiště. Such an onerous job, one which could not supply the glory and booty available on campaign, must have been an unwelcome aspect of military service. Cosmas, in a story about the tyrannical behavior of Boleslav I “the Cruel” (929–955), provides an explanation for the obligation’s origin:
He [Boleslav] immediately called the leaders of the people into one and to a man. Leading them to a place on the Elbe and pointing to this place he opened up to them the secret of his heart: “Here,” he said, “I want and command, that you build for me the walls of a city in the Roman manner very high and in a circle.” To this they said: “We who are the mouth of the people and hold the staffs of honor, we refuse you, because we do not recognize and do not want to do what you command, and nor did our fathers do such a thing before. Behold, we stand in your presence and we submit our necks to your sword rather than to such unbearable servitude. Do what you wish, but we will not obey your commands.”130
Boleslav called this bluff and, brandishing his sword in a terrifying manner, killed a man who was “first among the seniores” in order to help the people decide “whether it was lighter to submit their necks to the sword or to the bond of servitude.” They instantly capitulated, agreed to do whatever the duke ordered, and built a city—named Boleslav—according to his desires.131 Although in this case the story recounts the construction of an entirely new castle, most references specify or imply the refortification of existing sites. That men could be pressed to this task, as well as active military service, is reported in a simple fashion by the Canon of Vyšehrad: “At that time, the Czechs rebuilt certain fortifications, which are called Přimda, Zhořelec, and Tachov in Slavic.”132 The obligation to erect castles was linked to mandatory military service, and like it, seems to have applied universally to all freemen. The Czechs were also obliged to fell trees as a defense against invaders along certain forest roads, a barrier called přeseka. Soběslav II absolved the men of the monastery of Kladruby from this “cutting of the forest,” except in one location.133 Road and bridge building obligations are also mentioned in the Hradiště immunity, although whether they also arose out of military obligations, for instance, in accordance with the need to move men through the territory for its defense, remains uncertain.
The duke’s right to muster the Czech freemen was undoubtedly associated with his role as their chief military leader. His obligation to lead expeditions personally must have been taken for granted. The chroniclers, for instance, apparently felt no need to state something so obvious: the Přemyslids whose blindings they report were thereby automatically removed from the line of succession because this disability prevented them from leading men into battle. The only military engagement mentioned in which the duke is not present was a raiding party apparently undertaken with his permission.134 For imperial campaigns in Italy, which occurred regularly during the reign of Frederick Barbarossa and were apparently considered outside customary military service, the duke sometimes designated another Přemyslid to lead the army in his place.135 The only duke ever shown to be unwilling to fight is the mythical Neklan, whose very name translates as “not esteemed.” In Cosmas’s story, Neklan contrives to place his closest counsellor in command, dressed in his own clothes and on his horse. This man, called Tyro, likewise assumed the duke’s task of exhorting his men to fight valiantly in the imminent battle, noting at the outset of his speech: “It is fitting for a duke to add strength to his warriors with words.”136
Přemyslid rulers no doubt derived substantial authority from their military role and prowess. As Cosmas says, “What would limbs do without a head, or warriors in battle without a duke?”137 Besides the benefits to the duke’s personal prestige, say, from the successful expansion of his territory, much political clout—especially in the eleventh century—must have depended upon his leadership of bounty raids, profitable to ruler and warriors alike. The alternative was also true: Duchess Elizabeth apparently had more military sense than her husband, Frederick, and, according to Gerlach’s account, prevented his overthrow by Soběslav in 1179 by her forethought.138 Not surprisingly, the chronicler speaks in another context of “Lady Elizabeth, who governed Bohemia more than her husband did.”139 Ultimately, the duke of Bohemia was charged with defending the realm and its inhabitants, and his subjects with assisting him in that endeavor. As with jurisdiction, this was not a task the duke could fulfill alone, as Cosmas notes as a corollary to his earlier question: “just as a warrior without arms lacks his function, so a duke without warriors has not even the title of duke.” 140
The Přemyslid duke of Bohemia must have enjoyed extraordinary wealth and indisputed predominance in the Czech Lands. He maintained complete control of all fortifications and their castellans, and held supreme jurisdiction. Minting in Bohemia was centralized
