1635- the Wars for the Rhine (ARC)

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1635- the Wars for the Rhine (ARC) Page 22

by Anette Pedersen


  Hesse had never truly doubted that he was among the saved, that both he and Amalie were chosen to enter Heaven and take their place at God’s side. And for so long the prosperity that had followed them had seemed proof of that for all others to see. Hesse had thrown in his lot with the man who was now an emperor, he had a long list of military victories behind him, an exceptionally clever wife who shared his dreams and goals, several strong and healthy children. Lately, even his own quarrelsome family was bowing to his superiority and accepted him as their leader.

  This summer’s attempt to add Cologne to his new province had been the first major failure he had suffered since becoming a man. But why?

  Hesse went back to his table and took the parchment from the emperor with him to the window. Messages? It was radio messages that had interfered with his original straightforward plan to take Cologne. Was that a sign that the Americans were his enemy and would block him unless he somehow destroyed them? But what about the rain? The messages had cost him three months of useless maneuvering during the summer, but he had known quite well that the plans had gotten too complex and could just have continued on his original course. The rains on the other hand had delayed him in everything he did since early September, and that rain could only have come from God. And what about the death of the courier from Mainz? And Wolfgang’s missing heir to Jülich and Berg? Hesse sat on the window bench for a while, slowly rubbing his finger over the emperor’s seal on the parchment. No, he wasn’t meant to rule Cologne. It was not that he wasn’t one of God’s chosen, it was just that he for some reason shouldn’t have Cologne. Everything that had gone against him this summer had just happened to block him from that specific goal.

  Hesse looked down on the parchment. What he did have was Mark. He owed De Geer the tip west of Dortmund, but Dortmund itself had been fairly big in the American’s world. There had been channels. Lots of channels. Exactly what had been transported and why Hesse couldn’t remember, but Amalie would know, and there would be detailed maps in Magdeburg. Hesse gave a sigh, then stood up and squared his shoulders.

  Chapter 32

  Bamberg, Geyerswoerth Palace, SoTF administration land office

  December 30, 1634

  “Welcome back to Bamberg, Bennett. How was Mainz?” Janie Kacere looked up over the stacks of ledgers and paper on her desk to greet the grumpy looking man entering her office. “You deeply resented getting pulled away from your work with the election, but was it worth it?”

  “I still think getting the election properly arranged is just about the most important thing to be done right now.” Bennett Norris removed a stack of heavy books from a chair, but finding no place to put them held them in his lap as he sat down. “But I must also admit that you and Steve Salatto were right: politics of all kinds are totally tangled together all along the Rhine and the Main. A single clog can strangle everything else, and if we want to grow—or even just hold things together—we simply must have some sort of control over the rivers.” He sighed. “Those half-forgotten history lessons really should have made me realize that the Rhine is the Mississippi river of Europe—and the river Main pretty much the Ohio. But,” he smiled, “the Mainz office is running smoothly again. And things are settling down around Cologne. But whatever is going on around here? I made a detour to Fulda, so I haven’t been to Würzburg, and the inns are full of all kinds of rumors. Is there anything that could seriously impact on the election process?”

  “A fanatic witch-burner, Father Arnoldi, is stirring up troubles in Würzburg in his bishop’s absence—or possibly in preparation of his return. A safe-conduct was issued to Bishop Franz von Hatzfeldt, and he is expected to turn up sooner or later. Did you, by any chance meet him while you were in Mainz?”

  “No, Bishop Franz was hanging out with Archbishop Ferdinand in Bonn and Cologne until they fled west when Hesse attacked,” Bennett rested his arms on top of the books, “but I did meet two of his brothers. And liked them both. Extremely sensible men and definitely not the kind to favor any kind of fanatics. Very political though, on the local scale, and very far from stupid.”

  Janie looked around her office, which was absolutely overflowing with ledgers and bundles of papers. She much preferred an orderly workspace, but with so many tangled ownerships and so many records missing she needed access to everything she had from the area she was presently working in. “Just put the books on top of the stack to your left.”

  “I don’t think they’ll balance. You have all your bundles tied with the knots used for easy access, rather than the flatter ones used for stacking in storage. Heinrich von Hatzfeldt, Bishop Franz’s older brother, showed me the difference along with a very clever little wooden thingy which I plan to have someone copy for me in very large numbers. Medieval clerkery 101.” Bennett sighed. “I had a lot of contact with Heinrich von Hatzfeldt in Mainz. He’s a dean of some kind, and held things together for the Catholic Church in Mainz, while his superiors fled. He called Bishop Franz the diplomat of the family, and I gathered that they were worried about him. The entire family is quite famous for their religious tolerance. Of course that doesn’t mean that Bishop Franz is not a fanatic—or in favor of witch-burnings.”

  “No. He was suspected of being behind the attack on the auditors last year. Nothing was proved, but the few entries about him and his family in the history books certainly indicates ambition.” Janie rose to put more wood on the fire in the stove. The ceilings in the administrative buildings in Bamberg were beautifully decorated but very high by up-time standards, making the rooms difficult to heat. “The Ram movement has actually made things easier in purely political terms. Muddled and missing records still provide a lot of opportunity for shady deals and nepotism, but the people with wealth and power now have a lot less opportunity to grab more, than they did even two years ago. And they don’t like that. And Father Arnoldi appears to have become their focal point.”

  “So it’s political slash financial rather than religious? That’s not the way the rumors have it.”

  “We don’t know. Father Arnoldi’s rhetoric certainly aims at the most irrational medieval fears and superstitions, but the men around him are known for their worldly ambitions, and are no fools.”

  “Hm. Any idea how widespread a support he has, and what kind of resources?” Bennet wanted to stand up and pace, but that was totally impossible in the tightly packed room.

  “You’ll need to ask one of the military people about that, or Steve Salatto when you see him.”

  “Who is around right now?”

  “I’m not really sure. We’re still more or less closed down for Christmas. Vince has gone to bring both his wife and his daughter here. Barbara broke her leg rushing around as usual, and it has not set quite right. She’ll probably always walk with a limp, but she plan to organize the women’s branch of Hearts and Minds into something like a Women’s Institute and teach women how to apply up-time knowledge to housekeeping. Terrie is to spend the winter here with her parents before going back to Grantville to take her exams in May.” Janie smiled. “It’ll be nice to have some more Grantville families here. And Vince has missed Barbara very much. The new railroad from Grantville is almost at Kronach, and is expected to reach Bamberg some time during next summer.” She looked around her crowded office. “As for myself: I’m taking advantage of the relative peace and quiet during Christmas to sort some files. The post-Ram calm has given a lot of people more time and energy to devote to old—and new—disputes about estates, and I’m seriously short of reliable records for most church properties. Or possible church properties. And a fire in two of Würzburg’s main guildhalls combined with a flooding here in Bamberg has not made things easier.”

  “I wouldn’t say lacking records was your most obvious problem,” said Bennett looking around, “but I know how it is. Is my office still mine?”

  “Aside from a few nuns.” Janie smiled. “That’s some of the more positive news. One of the clerics Bishop Franz left behind—or who returned
—is a very nice young man named Schönborn. He’s only a canon at the Würzburg Cathedral, but another person mentioned in the history books. And getting raaave reviews! The German Solomon, no less.” She grinned. “Really cute too. The nuns are his doing. Though not because he’s cute.” Janie stopped smiling and said seriously. “They are from Bavaria. Duke Maximillian took a dislike to something about their order, and they had to flee. They went to Würzburg first, but Father Arnoldi apparently considers learned women to be the work of the Devil, and tried to get them accused of witchcraft and burned. There’ve also been tales about learned and outspoken women getting harassed, and even disappearing. Did you hear those rumors?”

  “Yes, but when I left the situation was nowhere near lawless enough for that to happen. Has it changed?”

  “We think it’s just a part of Arnoldi’s attempt to put The Fear Into The Congregation. None of the stories that we’ve followed have led to anything, but…” She rubbed her brow. “Two women, who had gone against some of Arnoldi’s followers, disappeared while travelling. No one’s sure exactly where, and their wagons and servants have not been found. They just never arrived at their destinations.”

  “Which were?”

  “One was travelling north to Fulda with three servants. All four of them riding horses. That was in September. The other was driving her own small wagon from Bamberg along the road to Würzburg with a single maid for company. That was only about a month ago.”

  “That makes no sense. The road north to Fulda has some bad stretches, but between here and Würzburg there’s just a few wooded hills between the fields.”

  “Yes, and of course that means the Devil took the Wicked Widow from Würzburg for her wicked ways—such as driving herself home from a visit to her sister here in Bamberg. And her maid with her for taking service with such an evil woman. And of course the fact that she’s a widow is also suspect, since just how did her husband die? That he was shot, while defending his farm from the invading Protestant army, is unimportant. At least compared to the fact that she refused to sell—cheaply—a very fine vineyard to the Würzburg councilor who wanted it.”

  “We are supposed to be out of the Middle Ages, right?”

  “Sometimes I wonder. But back to your nuns. Schönborn and …”

  “Just a moment. My nuns?”

  “Well sort of. Our nuns then.” Janie’s smile came back. “Father Arnoldi and his cronies in the Würzburg city council had them locked up and claimed that they were both witches and spies for Duke Maximillian. Schönborn together with some of Johnnie’s Hearts and Minds people got them away from Würzburg, and suggested we hire them. They really are learned. Literate in German and Latin, used to doing accounts, and very good at making trade contract and other juridical documents. Two went to work as nurses, but the rest was added to our staff as clerks. They are really good. Two of them have been assigned to your office, and have been keeping track of—and cross-checking—all the updates we’re getting from the Amtmen about voters etc.” She rose from her chair. “Come let me introduce you to your own private office dragons.”

  Mainz, Church of St. Alban

  “Come in, come in.” Domherr Heinrich von Hatzfeldt, rose from his writing desk and went smiling to greet his visitors. “You both look like drowned mice, but I’ve hot water for a tisane. Please, close the door, Franz. The drafts along those corridors are murderous.” To Franz the shabby and rather overfilled office of his brother, looked like a vision of Heaven after the cold and wet journey, and for the first time since he had realized just how far Archbishop Ferdinand was willing to go to regain his powerbase, Franz felt himself relax.

  “My dearest brother, corridors are always drafty. They really are nothing but horizontal ventilation canals.”

  “Are you hungry?” Heinrich looked from his brother to the rather van looking Franz Wilhelm, who both shook their heads.

  “We had breakfast this morning before we left Ingelheim.” Franz Wilhelm’s voice was weak and slow. “I’ve been suffering from the most annoying stomach fever for the past two week, so we’ve had to travel very slowly. And where is the closest necessaire?”

  “Two doors to the left. It’s behind the screen in the choir room.” Heinrich twisted around to take a bottle and three mugs from the cupboard behind his chair, and went to the small fireplace for hot water. “This is a honeyed mint and thyme cordial. It’ll calm your stomach. Are you running a fever as well?”

  “Not any more. We stayed at an inn near Koblenz until that passed. Thank you.” Franz Wilhelm accepted the hot drink. ”But please give us what information you have on the political and military situation. We’ve been on the road for more than two weeks, and before that Archbishop Ferdinand did his best to keep us in isolation since intercepting Melchior’s letter to Franz in September.”

  “Archbishop Ferdinand wanted to send me off with Felix Gruyard and some of his minions,” Franz leaned back and let the warmth from the drink seep slowly into his bones, “but Franz Wilhelm stalled him with some of the fanciest diplomatic footwork I’ve ever seen. I still don’t know how you managed, my dear friend, but I’ll be forever grateful. I absolutely loath Gruyard.”

  “I’ve known Uncle Ferdinand all my life, and my sister Maxie nursed him during his illness last winter. She told me . . .” Franz Wilhelm paused and looked into his mug. “Seems he has been doing things lately that go beyond what would normally be expected even from an ambitious man. Employing Felix Gruyard as a private torturer for a start. Against Abbot Schweinsberg of Fulda, but probably also in connection with a friend of Father Johannes, the painter.” Franz Wilhelm emptied his mug and sank a little down in his seat. “I could use his uneasy mind to stall him.”

  “Yes.” All traces of a smile now disappeared from Heinrich’s face. “I wasn’t at all on friendly terms with Abbot Schweinsberg of Fulda, but there was an eyewitness to him being tortured to death by Felix Gruyard. Not a very prominent person, but one with no reason to lie. Schweinsberg’s body has now been retrieved and given a proper burial.”

  Franz felt sick, but Franz Wilhelm just nodded.

  “I had a letter from our dear sister Lucie last week.” Heinrich poured another round. “Do you know that Melchior is holding Bonn, and has married the widow of Jülich-Berg?” Both his guests nodded, and Heinrich continued. “Hesse has concentrated his attack on Cologne, probably hoping to take it before it joins the USE. The casualties are increasing, but when Lucie wrote the letter no member of the family had been wounded. Hermann has been bringing letters out of the besieged towns. He is in Frankfurt right now, but I expect him back any day. Elsewhere?” Heinrich leaned back in his chair and contemplated the smoke stained ceiling. “De Geer seems to be consolidating his hold on the Düsseldorf area. Magdeburg and everybody else in the USE have elections on their minds, but there’s also some sabre-rattling in the direction of Saxony. Bavaria is falling more and more apart, and the old Habsburg Emperor is said to be dead. I haven’t seen the official confirmation on this, but I’m getting information through my connections to the Abrabanel family. Which reminds me.” Heinrich twisted around to take a bottle and two small beakers from another cupboard. “This is a blackberry cordial. I remember you used to like that, Franz. At your health to both of you.”

  The two guests drank, and Heinrich filled the vessels again.

  “There’s lemon and ginger in this as well as berries and honey. Is it an old bottle?” Franz Wilhelm smacked his lips checking the taste.

  “No, it was decanted only about a month ago.” Heinrich smiled and waited.

  “If you can afford lemons and exotic spices, you cannot be doing that badly.” Franz frowned at his brother.

  “We don’t.” Heinrich’s smile broadened into a grin, and he changed the tone of his voice as if preaching a sermon. “Things they are a changing, my children. There have been a lot of problems caused by the erosion of the old order and powerbases, but if you embrace the freedom of the new ideas, the possibilities are
endless.” He changed back to his normal voice and continued. “I’ve invited in the Jews.”

  “What!” Franz was genuinely startled. Their parents had imbued all their children with an unusual religious tolerance, but that was very far from the normal attitude of the Catholics in the area.

  “Yes, I trust that you both know from Melchior that I’ve gone into business with the Abrabanel family”

  “Yes, and someday I’d like you to tell me how you got Archbishop Anselm to accept that.” Franz Wilhelm smiled slightly, but Franz had no idea how shocked his friend really was. On one hand Franz Wilhelm was a deeply pragmatic person, who had proven his ability to work together with the most unlikely persons, but on the other hand he had been raised in the deeply religious environment of the Bavarian ducal court.

  “Yes.” Heinrich leaned forward and smiled at his visitors. He obviously wasn’t the least bit worried about the changes. “Frankfurt is getting a real boOst from becoming so important from a military point of view, but the council there is fighting every attempt to stop discrimination—especially against heretics. On the other hand the civil leaders here in Mainz are fairly friendly towards our Jewish community at the moment, and it’s becoming more and more obvious that the American influence in the USE will result in a political system with Equal Rights for Everyone; if not initially then at least as an end goal. The times when Prince-Prelates—or other rulers—could make their own laws and change them at will are over. There are going to be uniform laws, and they are going to be enforced. The translation of the American history book I’ve seen suggests that having a strong Jewish community tends to boost economical growth, so I made contact with Rabbi David Cohen. We share an interest in music, and while any kind of joint musical arrangement has not been possible, we usually meet at the more public concerts here in Mainz. He was the one who introduced me to Moses Abrabanel, and when Abrabanel last came to Mainz, he brought one of the newer drafts of the proposed constitution, and the three of us sat down and discussed what would be most important to the Jews and how we got the council to accept the changes.” Heinrich stopped talking and sipped a little from his beaker.

 

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