Volume 29, No.3 - Fall 1983
Editor of this issue: Antanas Klimas
ISSN 0024-5089
Copyright © 1983 LITUANUS Foundation, Inc.


Monmouth College

The Great Livonian War (1558-1582) was a decisive event in the history of Lithuania. It began at a moment when the western powers (the German states in Livonia, the Polish-Lithuanian Union) seemed in decline: the religious schisms and the obstinance of the legislative bodies hampered the rulers in giving effective leadership against the growing power of Moscow; and the presence of dangerous enemies in the Balkans drew the attention of the Holy Roman emperor and the king of Poland-Lithuania to that area rather than to Russia. The war, however, ended with the western powers again in command of the borderlands, with the Moscovite state in disarray. In effect, Lithuania survived many decades to come as a major power; but Lithuania was firmly committed to a stronger identification with Poland than to its Russian borderlands — a reversal of the pre-war attitude.

That outcome of the Livonian war was not expected by anyone when the conflict began. The best that the westerners had hoped for was to hold off the Russians until another truce could be arranged; perhaps to surrender some lands, but to hold onto the rest. The feeling of military inferiority to Moscow was so strong that in September of 1557 the Livonian Confederation and King Sigismund II of Poland-Lithuania (1520-1572) signed a pact of mutual aid at Pozwol. It would seem logical that this treaty was the cause of the war, in that Ivan IV (the Terrible) feared that his enemies were coming together for mutual defense, and he wanted to strike before their plans matured. Historians, however, have not always considered this reason either the ultimate or the immediate cause of the war.

The underlying reason for the conflict was the control of the borderlands. In the sixteenth century there had already been three wars between Moscow and the Lithuanians over the Russian-speaking principalities that formed a major part of Lithuania. The Lithuanian hold on those territories was loosening due to the attraction of the Orthodox Church and the victories of the Moscovite armies over Tatar enemies. The Orthodox Christians in Lithuania watched the Lutherans, Calvinists, and Roman Catholics contending for influence, but they considered them all heretics; they appreciated the freedom of worship they had enjoyed for generations, but they longed to have only one church, theirs, and that would be possible only in a truly Russian state. Also, the Russians were Lithuanian subjects only because they had needed protection against the Tatars; now that the Tatar threat was being handled better by a Russian prince than a Lithuanian one, they thought again of reuniting Russia under a traditional dynasty. The only compelling reason the Russian princes had for maintaining their loyalty to Lithuania, despite its turn to the west and to Roman Catholicism since the union with Poland, was the unpredictable personalities of the Moscovite autocrats, whose behavior frequently sent turncoat princes fleeing west into safety.

To the north of Lithuania was another endangered borderland — Livonia. The ramshackle state of the Livonian Confederation had once been Lithuania's death enemy. The Livonian Knights had led armies right to Vilnius, and the frequent raids had depopulated large areas of their common frontier. That hostile relationship had begun to change after the conversion of the Lithuanians to Christianity, and by 1500 the Germans in Livonia and the Lithuanians were allies facing a common foe in Russia. Therefore, when they signed the Treaty of Pozwol in 1557, they were committing themselves to a direction that led eventually to the incorporation of much of Livonia into the Polish-Lithuanian state.

The Livonian War began, as its name indicates, in Livonia. Ivan's invasion was immediately successful, so that it appeared for a long time that he would conquer all the provinces and cities. That he did not was probably his own fault. But historians disagree on this. Moreover, historians do not agree about the immediate cause of the war. This presents us with some intellectual puzzles that reveal much about the difficulties historians face in attempting to explain the past. Surely one should be able to agree on something as fundamental as the cause of a major war. However, we shall see that this is not the case.

Ivan IV's attack on Livonia in early 1558 caught the Lithuanian leaders unprepared for war, and therefore they did not enter into the conflict until 1559, after the Russians had overrun much of Livonia and seemed likely to outflank the Lithuanian defenses in the north.

Since today we can see the geo-political reasons for the outbreak of the Livonian War, it is important for us to remember that politicians do not always act rationally. Especially in the sixteenth century they did not do so. A look at the situation in Livonia will confirm this.

The Germans who were attacked by Ivan had first come to Livonia as merchants and as crusaders. After decades of warfare that only occasionally involved the Russian states of Pskov, Polotsk, and Novgorod, they conquered the last independent natives in 1290. In the centuries that followed they established cities, convents, castles, and manors, organized an international commerce, and converted many free natives into serfs. The country was divided among several governments — the Livonian Knights (a branch of the Teutonic Order, autonomous after the secularization of Prussia in 1525), the Archbishop of Riga, the Bishop of Dorpat, the Bishop of Oesel-Wiek, the Bishop of Reval, the knights of Wierland and Harrien, the four cathedral chapters, three abbots, and the burghers of the towns (the most important being Riga, Dorpat, and Reval). These governments were all represented in the Livonian Confederation, but with the exception of Dorpat they tended to listen to the advice given by the Master of the Livonian Order and the Archbishop of Riga. In the fifteenth century the Master and the Archbishop had fought fiercely for hegemony, but at the end of the century the fear of attack by Ivan the Great of Russia had brought them together. Also, the fear of Moscow had caused them to join in a military alliance with the Lithuanians. The military cooperation, however, was less effective than had been hoped for, and in the end the Livonians fought on alone against an apparently overwhelming foe. Surprisingly, the Livonian Order won a victory at Pskov in 1502 that gave them a respite of five decades. During that period the Master and the Archbishop did not dare divide the country again by a murderous civil war. Consequently, they did not exert undue pressure on the other members of the Livonian Confederation to obey their orders, preferring to allow each autonomous government to seek its own resolution of the religious and social problems of the Reformation era. They sought good relations with their Lithuanian neighbors to the south. Moreover, when the last grandmaster of the Teutonic Knights in Prussia secularized his state and became a Polish vassal, the last great point of contention between the Livonians and the Lithuanians disappeared.

The Livonians lived with the knowledge that someday the ruler of Moscow would organize his state for war and again threaten their states. For several decades the Confederation was able to extend the truces and live in peace, but when Ivan IV came to power in 1547, their leaders realized that a new period of danger had arrived.1

Ivan, who now insisted on being addressed as Tsar, insisted that the Livonians pay taxes on lands in the diocese of Dorpat. Indeed, Dorpat had paid taxes (or tribute) between 1464 and 1474, and in principle the Bishop and his subjects were willing to resume payment on the disputed borderlands only, in return for an extension of the truce that expired in 1553. However, Ivan insisted that they pay all tax he demanded and all the back taxes as well, in a lump sum. This was a staggering 40,000 talers — money that Ivan could use to reequip his army, a fortune that the Livonians could use themselves to hire a mercenary army.

The Livonian Confederation debated the issue, but was unable to come to an agreement upon a policy. Ultimately it was decided to promise to pay the tax, but to continue negotiations about the sum owed and the method of payment. Relations between Moscow and Livonia quickly came to the point of collapse; Ivan dismissed the diplomats, who felt themselves lucky to escape from his court with their lives.

Ivan's conquest of Astrakahn and Kazan in 1552 had removed the westerners' most dependable aid against an all-out Moscovite attack: no longer would Ivan have to maintain the bulk of his forces on the southern frontier; it also gave his soldiers and officers experience and confidence.

Since Ivan had given setbacks to the Lithuanians as well, they and the Livonians in the spring of 1557 entered into negotiations for a military alliance that became the Treaty of Pozwol in September. Meanwhile Ivan had been collecting troops along the frontier, and in January he sent them into the territory of the Dorpat bishop. The Livonian War had begun.

As mentioned above, historians have not agreed upon a single interpretation of the reasons behind the sudden declaration of war. Although the sequence of actions leading to the conflict is clear, the motivation for Ivan IV to order the invasion remains in dispute. This is important because the attack on Livonia is considered a turning point in Ivan's career, one that throws light on his entire reign. If he had a consistent policy in mind from the earliest days of his rule, historians expect to find traces of it in this sudden turn to the west, when he practically abandoned a successful movement to the south to take on new opponents who were no threat and were unlikely to become one.

Ivan's troubles with the Livonians can be traced back to 1550, when he first gave notice that he expected the westerners to give Russian merchants equal access to trade as that which was granted to Livonian and Hanseatic merchants in Russia. Many scholars believe that greater opportunity for trade was an important goal of this innovative Tsar. Others scoff at the idea, saying that Ivan IV was a medieval despot with no new conceptions of statecraft and no interest in the benefits to be gained by fostering trade. The invasion of Livonia, say these men, was the act of a traditional warrior-conqueror. If there was an understanding of the critical role of trade in raising taxes and creating prosperity that could be taxed, it was to be found in the Rada, that inner council of advisors, where Sylvester, Adashev, and Kurbsky tried to restrain their rash young Tsar from imprudent ventures.

As we have seen, the issue that brought Russian troops into Livonia was neither trade nor unprovoked aggression, but a dispute over the tribute to be paid Ivan by the diocese of Dorpat. Scholarly opinion about the importance of this tribute varies widely. For example, one traditional interpretation says:

The failure of Dorpat to pay tribute was merely one of many things that exasperated Ivan, who wanted to break the blockade and to acquire a seaport on the Baltic.2

It has been a problem for historians that interpretations of this nature seem to confuse Ivan IV with Peter the Great. There is some evidence that Ivan wanted the Baltic cities for the taxes they could raise, but less evidence that he felt a need for a port on the Baltic. He did have access to English markets via the White Sea, and his eagerness to marry Queen Elizabeth is an indication that his imagination was not always restrained by reality. The need for an alternate explanation for Ivan's behavior has caused some historians to see him as a tyrant:

Ivan returned from Kazan determined to rule as autocrat . . . Sylvester, Adashev, and several members of the Chosen Council observed this new independence in their young Tsar with misgiving ... To him the greatest glory that he could achieve, after the conquest of Kazan, was the recovery of the Russian lands held by his western enemies, and the revival of the Moscovite trade with the west through the Baltic Sea . . . The failure of Dorpat to pay tribute . . . was to be the pretext for war.3

The Soviet historian, Robert Wipper, was the spokesman for the official view that the Tsar was challenging his aristocratic advisors for control of the state. This reflected the contemporary disputes between Stalin and his advisors, disputes that ended in collectivization and the great purges. The Livonian War was merely the issue that determined which would prevail — a contest between centralization and decentralization:

Without waiting for the end of the campaigns in the South, Ivan IV, in 1558, launched another war for the possession of Livonia, a war which became his life's object, the source of his profound obsessions and, finally, the tragedy of his reign . . . To what extent was the Livonian War the logical result of Ivan IV's independent designs and will? It is evident that this western war was an issue around which raged the greatest controversy between Sylvester, the majority of the elected Rada, and the young Tsar who was thirsting for battle.4

This view is shared by Vasili Kluchevsky, the distinguished emigre historian, who connects this struggle for power within the state closely to the rise of the dreaded "Oprichnina," the dedicated and ruthless servants of the Tsar, who rose to power by the destruction of all those who stood in the way of the ruler known as Ivan "the Terrible."

The Oprichnina represented a new force in the tsarist system, one that lasted thorough the Livonian War, then disappeared under Ivan's wrath at its failure to protect Moscow from Tatar attack. Its essential features later became a permanent fixture of the royal despotism as the secret police. The power of the Oprichnina was indeed terrible, and it is not clear whether the excesses its members committed were due to the desperate ambition and ruthlessness of its members or to tsarist insanity.

The number of historians who would consider Ivan sane throughout his reign is smaller than the number who believe that he was a paranoid madman. Perhaps it is not logical to seek rational explanations for the behavior of a man who wallowed in blood, seeking to secure his own safety by the destruction of entire classes of potential enemies. The insanity theory, however, makes the history of this era meaningless, and, moreover, it overstates the case.

Even if Ivan became insane, particularly after 1564, he appears to have been in full possession of his faculties in the 1550's, when the Livonian Wars began; and most of his advisors supported him in the general ambition to annex Livonia to the empire.

The insanity question is important in understanding the way that Ivan's contemporaries saw him. If his royal neighbors saw him as a madman (and it appears that they developed this viewpoint in addition to the belief that all Russians were generally mad, as well as barbaric and inscrutable), then they would not treat him in the way that they would a conventional monarch. Western accounts of Ivan generally stressed the unpredictable and tyrannical aspects of Ivan's personality.5 Those accounts left him with the unforgettable nickname, Ivan the Terrible.

In the late Sixties western European scholars began to reexamine the evidence. In Ivan's rhetoric Manfred Hellmann found many statements indicating that he was not insane. Rather he was an early Russian nationalist, one who saw the Russian state as something more than the personal possession of the ruler. Ivan insisted that the German episcopal seat of Dorpat was the ancient Russian fortress of Jurjew and that the payment for the use of the long-disputed fields lying between Dorpat and Pskov was in fact a tribute for each person in the diocese. When he insisted that the Livonians deliver the unpaid tribute for the past forty years, the German rulers of that region were understandably alarmed and disconcerted. The Germans did not want war. They were unready to fight and did not want to raise the taxes to prepare for war. They ruled a poor country, had a small population, and were inexperienced in military affairs. Yet payment meant official recognition of Ivan's most extreme claims, something that the Confederation hesitated to give. The ambassadors sent to discuss the matter delayed, drew out the negotiations, pleaded, prevaricated — hoping that Ivan would die, that help would come, that something, anything, might happen — until Ivan lost patience and went to war. Hellmann believes that Ivan was sincere in his concern over the tribute, that he refused to compromise on this issue because it concerned his imperial rights as Tsar, and therefore that the declaration of war came because Ivan saw the necessity to enforce his authority wherever it was threatened. The tribute was the actual cause of war, not a pretext for deeper designs.6

Nevertheless, public opinion was hard to shake, especially when aspects of its beliefs were confirmed: if Ivan had not been insane, then he must have been a man with cunning plans for unifying Russia and creating a strong centralized state. Against this popular view a number of new publications appeared, each stating that Ivan could not be understood as a modern man. He was, they emphasized, a man of his own times. Long-range policy was less important than opportunism, rationality less vital than emotion. Pride, tradition, ignorance probably meant more than cool deliberation and planning, although those latter virtues were certainly not absent. Certainly Ivan was proud and stubborn enough to make war over an issue such as tribute, particularly if he thought he could win the war easily.

Norbert Angermann reviewed the possible reasons for Ivan's attack on Livonia. He concluded that trade was not a sufficient grounds for his anger. Ivan had little understanding of the need to improve the economy by supporting foreign trade, and he had no love for his own merchant class — something he later demonstrated by his massacre of the Novgorodians. But Ivan was consistent in claiming hereditary rights over Livonia, rights he supported later by installing Russian officials in conquered lands and founding Russian Orthodox Churches there. He alone, not the Rada or any of his advisors, made the decision for war. It was an individual decision, an expression of a typical Muscovite drive to advance the imperial frontiers in all directions.7

Knud Rasmussen reached much the same conclusion, that the attack of 1558 was Ivan's seizure of an opportune moment, a time when Poland-Lithuania was hindered by a Tatar attack from intervening in what appeared would be a short and decisive dampaign. In Rasmussen's view, the Crimean Tatars were the decisive factor: Poland-Lithuania and Moscow each sought to embroil the other in war with the dangerous Tatars, which would present the party at peace with the opportunity to seize border lands from both enemies. Curiously enough, Ivan periodically dreamed of ridding himself of the Tatar menace through an alliance with Poland-Lithuania.8

Eric Tiberg covered the same ground in a long continued article. Although disassociating himself from minor errors by Angermann and Rasmussen, he spoke out strongly against the mercantile reasons for the outbreak of war. He pointed out that the Tsar gave varying reasons for his attack, and naturally included any motive he could think of, among which were valid complaints by Russian merchants. The first time these complaints were mentioned, however, was in 1560! Far more significant was the Livonian intervention in 1548 to prevent German military experts from traveling to Russia to aid in the wars against Kazan and Astrakhan, an intervention the Tsar viewed as an unfriendly act; and, subsequently, talks between Poland-Lithuania and Livonia about a military alliance. The Tsar began to apply pressure in 1554, extracting a treaty from Dorpat that was interpreted as a commitment by all Livonia to pay a heavy tribute. This sudden interest in Livonia is not to be understood apart from Sigismund ll's similar interest in that country; it was part of the military and political confrontation of the two great empires, not an adventure separate from other Russian concerns. Tiberg emphasized that Ivan was not moving north just because he now felt safe in the south and east and wanted to conquer more territory; he was not safe in the south and east, as subsequent events proved — the Crimean Tatars were still a danger. His Livonian policy was part of his contest with Poland-Lithuania: when the Livonians signed the Treaty of Pozwol, establishing a military alliance with Poland-Lithuania, he understood its intent to be the ultimate subjection of Livonia to Sigismund Augustus. Therefore, he struck at Livonia while the Polish king was still unable to intervene there. Ivan expected to overrun that country with little resistance and thereby gain an advantage over his western rival.9

The western reaction to this Russian pressure is similarly controversial. A crucial point to understand is that not all Germans in Livonia felt themselves equally affected by the complicated diplomacy that preceded the outbreak of war. The Russian claims were at first specifically and solely directed at Dorpat. Therefore, the other Livonians did not take a great interest in them. Secondly, the history of the Dorpat diocese had long demonstrated that the inland church was concerned with different problems than those concerning the litorial Germans. The Dorpaters had conducted an independent diplomacy for several centuries and had fought wars against Pskov and Novgorod without calling on the other Livonian powers for assistance. Moreover, the Dorpat bishop had often fought against the Livonian Knights, even to the extent of calling in foreign powers to aid against them. Therefore, there was an ancient tradition of independence in Dorpat. Now, in an era when the Livonian Confederation was unable to act in unison, the bishop, the nobles, and the burghers of Dorpat saw to their own salvation as best they could. That they miscalculated in their policy is hardly a matter of dispute: why they miscalculated, and what their plans were are questions still hotly debated.10

The failure of Dorpat and the Livonian Confederation to prevent an attack by Moscow caused the Livonians to look abroad for help. In effect, only King Sigismund was in a position to render sufficient aid to rescue the country. Nevertheless, the long-standing fear of his attempting to dominate the country caused the Livonians to hesitate and delay. Ever they sought to put off the day when independence would be acknowledged as lost. This day eventually came, but it dawned only slowly and did not cover more than the southern regions along the Dvina River.11 The northern regions went to the King of Sweden, whose Finnish possessions would be endangered if Livonia were lost.

Ultimately, to understand the reasons for the outbreak of the war one returns to those presented by Balthasar Russow, whose Livonian Chronicle is one of the basic contemporary sources for Ivan IV: a failure on the part of the Germans governing Livonia. Walther Kirchner, whose excellent book The Rise of the Baltic Question focused historians' attention on the Livonian Wars in 1954, discussed the tribute in 1954, the trade, and the Russian churches as important but minor matters compared to the German refusal to pay the Dorpat tax; the refusal infuriated a tsar who was already developing autocratic habits and who had massed an army on the border as a means of threatening the Livonians; meanwhile, the Livonians had made no preparations for war lest it "provoke" Ivan IV.12 What began as a military demonstration became a full-fledged invasion after the surprisingly easy capture of Dorpat and Narva, fortresses that both Ivan and the Germans had regarded as virtually impregnable. Ivan had not intended to become as involved in Livonian campaigns as he did, but he could not pass up the opportunity that had presented itself. In effect, according to Kirchner, the Livonian War was an accident.

The Livonian Confederation asked for help, but since the Livonians refused to surrender their independence in return for the expensive and risky military aid, the King of Poland-Lithuania did not send armies. Thus, the way was open for further Russian advances. Erich Donnert's book on the Baltic Question is useful for understanding this aspect of the war.13 Although modern political attitudes occasionally appear in this volume (Donnert being the foremost Baltic historian of the German Democratic Republic and his comments are thoroughly favorable to Ivan and the Russian intervention), these are valuable as correctives to many western accounts.

The older standard accounts by Alfred Bilmanis, Arnolds Spekke, Evald Uustalu, and Arthur Voobus are still useful — and, above all, accessible in English.14 None of those, however, are specialized histories of the Livonian War — nor do they offer special insights into the origin of the war or its wider implications; moreover, all are thirty years old. Time erodes the best of scholarship; our conceptions of the past continually change as scholars bring forth new ideas and cast them into the arena, where they struggle on their own for acceptance.

What is clear is that we dare not judge motivations for past actions by modern standards. Ivan could have analyzed his position in geo-political terms and concluded that he should attack his divided opponents before they united against him; but many historians do not believe that he thought in that manner. The evidence seems to indicate that emotion, tradition, and accident were more important than rational planning. He may not have even intended to start a major war at all.

The war had great consequences for Lithuania. First of all, the Moscovite advance westward was delayed for years. Secondly, the long-delayed formal union with Poland was hastened and finally accomplished on terms that resulted in widespread Polonization.15 Although a dual administration continued, the Livonian War represented the watershed between the old Lithuania and the new. Lithuania, which had often leaned toward the east in the past, now cast its lot definitely with the west.


1 This article was written as part of a translation project for the National Endowment for the Humanities, with support from the Association for the Advancement of Baltic Studies and the Estonian Learned Society. For English language histories of the Baltic crusades see William Urban, The Livonian Crusade (Washington: University Press of America, 1981) and Eric Christiansen, The Northern Crusades (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1980).
2 Robert Payne and Nikita Romanoff, /van the Terrible (New York:. Crowell, 1975), pp. 166-167; Ruslan Skrynnikov, Ivan the Terrible (trans. Hugh Graham. Gulf Breeze, Florida: Academic International Press, 1981), pp. 49-51, makes trade the primary, but not the only reason for Ivan's attack: confidence from recent victories, the obvious weakness of the Livonians, and a dispute among his advisors all were important.
3 Ian Grey, Ivan the Terrible (Philadelphia and New York: J. B. Lippencott, 1964), pp. 126, 132.
4 Robert Wipper, Ivan Grozny (Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House, 1947), pp. 70-71. This was first printed in 1922, but attracted little notice until the late Stalinist period, when historians saw a definite comparison between Ivan's policies and the contemporary preventive wars against Poland, the Baltic states, and Finland. For a thorough review of Soviet historiography on Ivan, see Arved Freiherr von Taube, "Die Livlandpolitik Zar Ivan IV. Grozny's in der sowjetischen Geschichtsschreibung," in Jahrbuecher fuer Geschichte Osteuropas, 13 (1965), pp. 411-444, and Alexander Yanov, The Origins of Autocracy; Ivan the Terrible in Russian History (trans. Stephen Dunn. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981) — which is provocative and controversial. The work by Erich Donnert, Iwan Grosny, "Der Schreckliche" (Berlin: Union, 1978) emphasizes the class conflicts of the era. For example, he says: "The government of the tsarist state of Ivan IV was the instrument of the ruling feudal class. It was marked by deep contradictions. The division and antagonism in the policy of Ivan Grosny lay above all in the double function of absolutism: in the simultaneous; maintenance of the Old and the furthering of the New. The empire of Ivan IV differed from its predecessor in its relatively modern character. The modernity consisted in the ability of this government to create important parts and elements of the coming middle class state and to put them to use." A good summary of Soviet scholarship is found in David MacKenzie and Michael Curran, A History of Russia and the Soviet Union (Homewood, Illinois: Dorsey, 1982), pp. 119-137.
5 Andreas Kappeler, Ivan Groznyj im Spiegel der auslaendischen Druckschriften seiner Zeit (Bern: Herbert Lang, 1972) and "Deutsche Russlandschriften der Zeit Ivans des Schrecklicken," Reiseberichte von Deutschen über Russland und von Russen über Deutschland (Cologne: Bohlau, 1980). There are available in English or translation several contemporary accounts of Moscovite Russia. The earliest and perhaps most influential is Sigmund von Herberstein, Description of Moscow and Muscovy, 1557 (trans. J. B. C. Grundy. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1969). Giles Fletcher, Of the Russe Commonwealth, 1591 (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1966) made the greatest impression on the English-speaking world. For papal politics, Antonio Possevino, The Moscovia of Antonio Possevino, S.]. (trans. Hugh Graham. Pittsburgh: University Center for International Studies, 1977). The Correspondence Between Prince A. M. Kurbsky and Tsar Ivan IV of Russia, 1564-1579 (trans. John Lister Illingworth Fennell. Cambridge: University Press, 1955) and Prince A. M. Kurbsky's History of Ivan IV (trans. John Lister Illingworth Fennell. Cambridge: University Press, 1965) are important Russian statements about the reign of this Tsar.
6 Manfred Hellmann, Iwan IV, der Schreckliche; Moskau an der Schwelle der Neuzeit (Göttingen: Musterschmidt, 1968), pp. 41-42.
7 Norbert Angermann, Studien zur Livlandpolitik Ivan Croznyjs (Marburg/Lahn: J. G. Herder, 1972), pp. 1-24.
8 Knud Rasmussen, Die livlaendische Krise 1554-1561 (Copenhagen: Universitetsforlaget, 1973), pp. 226-228.
9 Erik Tiberg, "Kritische Bemerkungen zu einigen Quellen ueber den Anfang des livlaendischen Krieges, 1558," Zeitschrift fuer Ostforschung, 25 (1976), pp. 462-475; and "Die Politik Moskaus gegenueber Alt-Livland, 1558," Ibid, pp. 577-617; Less dramatic is the interpretation of Joel Raba, "Russisch - livlaendische Beziehungen am Anfang des 16. Jahrhunderts: Partnerschaft oder Konfrontation?" Zeitschrift fuer Ostforschung, 26 (1978), pp. 575-587. He states that the Livonian Confederation was so divided and weak that it was becoming subordinant to the Muscovite state in every sense; the Germans traded away bits of sovereignty for extensions of the truce; the Russians naturally concluded that the Tsar was the legitimate ruler of Livonia.
10 Georg von Rauch, "Stadt und Bistum Dorpat zum Ende der Ordenszeit," Zeitschrift fuer Ostforschung, 24 (1975), pp. 577-626.
11 Klaus-Dietrich Staemler, Preussen und Livland in ihrem Verhaeltnis zur Krone Poland, 1561 bis 1586, No. 8 in Wissenschaftliche Beitraege zur Geschichte und Landeskunde Ost-Mitteleuropas (Marburg/Lahn: J. G. Herder, 1953); Also see Wilhelm Lenz, Riga zwischen dem Roemischen Reich und Polen-Litauen in den Jahren 1558-1582 (Marburg/Lahn: J. G. Herder, 1968), No. 82 of the series.
12 Walther Kirchner, The Rise of the Baltic Question (Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1954), pp. 96-100. Balthasar Russow, Chronica der Provintz Lyfflandt (Bart: Andreas Seiler, 1584. rpt. Hannover-Doehren: Harro von Hirschheydt, 1967).
13 Erich Donnert, Der livlaendische Ordenritterstaat und Russland; der livlaendische Krieg und die baltische Frage in der europaeischen Politik 1558-1583 (Berlin: Rutten und Leoning, 1963); see also Sture Arnell, Die Aufloesung des livlaendischen Ordenstaates (Lund: Berling, 1937); for Latvian language readers, see Edgars Dunsdorf and Arnolds Spekke, Latvijas Vesture 1500-1600 (Stockholm: Ronzo, 1964); and for Russian language readers, see Artur Vassar and G. Naana, Istoriia Estonskoi SSR (Tallinn: Estonian Academy of Science, 1961); and V. D. Kopojuk, Livonskaja Vojna (Moscow: led. Akad. Nauk, 1954).
14 Alfred Bilmanis, A History of Latvia (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1951); Arnolds Spekke, History of Latvia, an Outline (Stockholm: M. Goppers, 1951); Evald Uustalu, The History of the Estonian People (London: Boreas, 1952); Arthur Voobus, Studies in the History of the Estonian People: With Reference to Aspects of Social Conditions, in Particular, the Religious, Spiritual and Cultural Life and the Educational Pursuit (2 vols. Stockholm, 1970).
15 Oscar Halecki, Borderlands of Western Civilization; a history of East Central Europe (New York: Ronald, 1952), pp. 170-2; and From Florence to Brest (1439-1596) (Hamden, Connecticut: Archon, 1968), pp. 141ff.