“And what did they want?”
“It turned out that what were the two most important issues to the Jews were the permission to become citizens and the removal of the limit to the number of marriages within our Jewish community. Oh, they would of course also like permissions to own business properties and open shops, but getting that past the guilds would be impossible until they actually saw a law saying so. Getting the council to agree wasn’t all that difficult, but selling the plan to Archbishop Anselm took some very fast talking. I’m not really sure he didn’t agree mainly because he knew how much it would annoy Archbishop Ferdinand.”
Franz Wilhelm and Franz both nodded. That sounded completely likely.
“But on a more positive note,” Heinrich smiled again, “David Cohen became the first Jewish citizen of Mainz a few weeks ago, and several Jewish families have moved to Mainz from the Frankfurt Judengasse, and are renting properties from the archbishopric. We’ve set it up with fifty years contracts and the rents tied to the price of bread. Good rents but not more than we could probably get Christians to pay. The real payback for the church however is the trading opportunities. One of the properties we’ve rented out will be a series of warehouses for the Abrabanel trading network, and part of that rent is that the church can get the goods at cost. In other words: the Church can use the rent money to buy a share in the Abrabanel cargoes.”
“And does that pay better than the original rent money?” Franz leaned back. He’d need money from somewhere, if he was to succeed in his plans for his bishopric.
“Yes. Even with reserves to cover lost cargoes it’s a minimum of ten times.”
“Jesus drove the traders from the temple. So, from a purely theological point of view, aren’t you likely to get into trouble for inviting them back in?” Franz Wilhelm didn’t seem very upset at the idea.
“First: the Church itself became a trader, the moment we owned more property than the temple itself. Second: that temple wasn’t a church it was a synagogue.” Heinrich shrugged, then leaned back and smiled. “When Anselm and almost everybody else fled from the Protestant army, I remained behind to protect the Church to the best of my abilities. I’m not at all certain that what I’ve been doing is right, and I’m sure it isn’t the only solution, but most of all I’m totally convinced that things will not go back to the way they used to be if we just wait out ‘the present unpleasantness,’ to quote some of my colleagues. The conquered bishopric here in the Bishop’s Alley along the Rhine cannot regain their freedom and power by fighting the USE—with arms OR with lawyers and diplomats. The USE and the changes the Americans brought are not going to just go away. We need to work within this new system with a constitution. We need to grab every advantage and opportunity it presents. Because if we don’t, then we are going to be bypassed by those who are willing to change.”
Heinrich continued more calmly. “If the choice was between only spiritual or only secular power for the Church, I would personally vote for spiritual. I just think that we still have the opportunity for both. The Catholic message is important, and I want money to pay for missionaries to spread it, for schools to teach it to the children, for shelters where people can seek its protection.” Heinrich sighed and smiled. “I also want the Catholic Church to be the place to touch God’s glory on Earth. With beautiful music written to his glory, and richly decorated rooms in which to listen. But enough sermon from me. What are your plans?”
“We would like to stay here in Mainz until I’ve recovered completely, but if the winter remains mild—if wet—we’ll continue and try to reach our bishoprics before Chandlemas,” answered Franz Wilhelm.
Heinrich nodded, “You are both more than welcome. We have lost some clerics since the protestant armies came west, so there are plenty of rooms for guests.”
“Did Abrabanel tell you anything about Würzburg?” Franz’s mind returned to his own affairs.
“Only very little. Jews are becoming less, and less welcome in Würzburg. Since the Americans moved into Bamberg, many of the most close-minded bigots have moved out. They seem to be finding a gathering point at Würzburg. Around a Father Arnoldi.”
Franz sighed. “Just what I did not want. Any letters from Schönborn?” Franz leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling without really seeing it. Instead he saw the grape-covered fields around Würzburg with the Main River winding between the hills. His family and friends teased him about his “Kingdom”, but becoming the bishop of those beautiful hills had been the fulfillment of all his ambitions more than three years ago, and for all that time he had dreamed of returning. It would probably have been more sensible to consider his bishopric lost, and accept some of the offers he’d received from France and from the Habsburgs, but his Kingdom of the Hills had always remained the only thing he really wanted.
“No, but all the rain this autumn has seriously disrupted the postal services.” Heinrich smiled wryly. “The Abrabanel traders on the other hand seem to manage just fine. Did I mention that the copy of the latest version of the new constitution contained a clause stating that the church won’t remain tax-exempt?”
“What!” That pulled Franz’s mind totally back to the here-and-now.
“Oh, yes. It’s been proposed as part of the new constitution, and apparently several of the USE princes feel that unless they remain tax-exempt none of the churches should either.”
“Please, brother. I need another cordial. And would you please give some more details about your trading ventures. It sounds as if I’ll be needing money even more than I thought.”
Chapter 33
Bonn
January 20, 1635
“That’s The Old Boys, my old regiment. And Lorentz and Dannwitz. Or at least in part. They’re not in any standard configuration. And no wagons or baggage train.” At Melchior’s musing voice Charlotte looked up in surprise to see her husband squinting to identify the riders approaching Bonn in orderly files.
“Surely you cannot see anybody’s face from this far?”
“The colors on the banners and the way the files are arranged are enough.” Melchior put his arm around Charlotte’s shoulder and gave a little squeeze. “All military leaders have preferences in how they deploy their men—both for combat and for marching. It’s vital to know this about your opponent, but you must also know your own side. It’s not possible for a general to order every little detail, but you still need to know where everybody is going to be and what they’ll do. Take a look at the middle regiment. There’re scouts out on both sides even when approaching a friendly town, and if you look beyond the easy spotted outriders, there’re more that are only occasionally visible. That’s Dannwitz’s way of marching. Dehn never does that.”
“Do you think Hesse left any of his men behind? Perhaps to look for a chance to attack once the gates open?”
“Not a chance, my dear. That simply isn’t done. No one would ever trust him again.”
“He attacked without warning, and treaties have been broken before.”
“It’ll not happen in this case. Please trust my judgment on this.”
Charlotte looked up at Melchior smiling down on her. “I’m sorry. It seems I’m developing a nervous disposition.” She looked away and took a couple of steps along the wall walk to free herself from Melchior’s arm. Despite her growing fondness of her new husband, she still found it difficult to accept any kind of constraints when she was upset.
“Hardly surprising, my dear,” Melchior folded his arms, leaned against the battlement and kept smiling. “You’ve had a very rough year.”
“Are you always this forbearing?” A flash-back to the previous winter, when the slightest opposition would be enough to trigger Wolfgang’s fury, made Charlotte’s question sharper than she had intended.
“Charlotte, I’ve been a soldier for twenty years, and surely seen every possible way a human can react to battle—and please do not belittle what has happened to you. It’s been fully as harsh as any soldier’s campaign
, you went into it without any kind of training, and it was certainly something for which you never volunteered. If anything, I actually admire the way you keep your head in a crisis. And if you fall a little apart, once the crisis is over?” Melchior shrugged. “I have no real problem with that. You’ll find your feet again, and calm down.”
“But what if . . .” Charlotte stopped. Most of the militias and as many councilors as could find room were gathered on the walls to watch the arrival of her husband’s regiments. They kept their distance to give their general and his wife a little privacy, but they were still close enough to hear anything she said if she spoke too loud. She forced herself to calm down, and looked around to smile at Frau Benedicte, while taking the few steps back to Melchior.
“You’re right.” She smiled up at Melchior and leaned over a little to rub her shoulder against his. “I’ll be calm, put my life in order, and be so much stronger from what I’ve learned.”
“Excellent.” Melchior put his arm back around her shoulder. “Good plan. You know, my friend Father Johannes told me that some of the guns owned by the Americans could be kept under your pillow while you slept. Perhaps you would like to buy one of those?”
“I am not the kind of woman who takes a gun to bed!”
“Eh! And what kind of woman is that?” Melchior looked a little confused, as if he wasn’t quite sure that she was joking.
Pleased to have for once managed to tease her husband back, Charlotte gave a sniff. “Never mind that. You’re a married man now.”
Melchior looked questioning towards the Eigenhause family, who generally looked away and hid broad grins. Only young Jacob was looking puzzled, as if he longed to ask Charlotte for an explanation.
“What I still don’t understand,” said Charlotte changing the subject, “is why your regiments are coming here in the first place. We should be going to Cologne in a few days or weeks at most, and could easily have come to wherever they were camping. Is there some esoteric military reason why they come to you?”
“No. Normally, Wolf would just have sent me one of my couriers, probably young Simon, and perhaps a few other officers if anything special needed reporting or coordinating, but otherwise I would just have gone to the camp, and taken back the command. Why Wolf didn’t send anyone I don’t know, but their reason for coming here is probably Cologne. After a siege and bombardment like the one Cologne just went through, the soldiers driving the attackers away are sometimes hailed as liberators, and sometimes not welcome at all. Wolf developed a very fine nose for such situations during our Danish campaign and following occupation under Wallenstein.”
“Dame Anna had a packet of the new American drugs against infections and pain from a friend at the hospital in Cologne along with a letter telling that Wolf had not come to visit his family. In fact, the only one of your men anyone had seen was Simon.”
“That would fit. Simon is so obviously a nice young boy that I often send him into the tense situations. But we better get down now, if we are to reach the City Hall in time for the official reception. And there’s a woman riding next to Wolf, for which he better have a good explanation.”
* * *
“So,” said Wolf with a grin later that evening, “what does your wife say to you dressing up your squeeze in trousers, and calling her a soldier?” Melchior had taken Wolf along for his usual evening patrol around Bonn, well knowing that he was in for some teasing, but also wanting some private conversation to catch up on the state of the regiments.
“What on Earth are you talking about? Madeleine is your problem and I definitely intend to keep her that way.”
“Pity. She seemed quite taken with you.” Wolf’s grin got even wider. “But it was in fact Allenberg I was talking about, you sly dog. A bit too solid for my tastes, but with a nice enough rack if you like them large.”
“Very funny. You know quite well I had no idea Allenberg was female.” Melchior stopped to pop open the door to The Dry Barrel, usually the rowdiest of the town’s five ale houses, but a quick glance around was enough to reassure him that his men were on fairly friendly terms with the locals. “Any idea what made her put on the disguise?”
“Not in any details, but presumably her abilities as a forger was involved.”
Melchior stopped and looked at his still grinning cousin. “Forger?”
“Oh, yes. An excellent one. We couldn’t have gotten across Bavaria without her.”
“I see.” Melchior started walking again and dryly continued. “Anything else I should know about?”
“I put young Simon in charge of the couriers, and added Allenberg, Rosy, and Schaden for spice. Pettenburg’s Irregulars.”
“Poor boy.”
“Oh no. He did extremely well. I think you’ve actually underestimated the boy’s abilities to handle the more weird assignments.”
“Are you talking spy?” Melchior frowned. The mindset that made a good spy rarely mixed with the makings of a good leader, and that was the goal he had intended for Simon. “Or just a weather vane ready to be somber and earnest with me, but a bit of a rascal for you?”
“Could be either or none.” Wolf was completely serious now. “I know you’re fond of the boy, and heaven knows he’s both clever and capable. I wanted to see how he dealt with situations outside those straight and narrow ways, that you’ve been sending him along. And your fair, young paragon completely exceeded my expectations. He has even more of a talent for shenanigans than I have.”
“Hm!” Melchior started walking again. “Ripe for a bit of a lark?”
“Nope. Completely serious. Might have enjoyed the challenge, but …”
“I’ve seen no signs of a delight in intrigues,” Melchior mused, “but a young officer with a quick eye for problems and a talent for obscure solutions, could be more useful off the battlefield than on it.” Melchior took off his hat and slapped the light dusting of snow off it against his leg before putting it back on. “I’ll have a talk with Allenberg, and if she can convince me not to sack her on the spot she goes with my wife and me. But I think our young Simon needs a few more challenges. I want to see how he handles that kind of assignment when they come from me rather than you. He’ll go scout around Jülich with Rosy Ross posing as a servant and Schaden as a groom. Between the three of them they should be able to ferret out any major problems awaiting us there. The rest of us go slowly and with a stop at Cologne. Or is there some reason we should avoid that town?”
“None, if we are going in the train of the courageous defender of Bonn heading west to claim his wife’s domain. But as an unattached army led by the Wild Wolf of Wildenburg?” Wolf shrugged. “Our darling little sister, Lucie, sent me a warning that everybody’s nerves were extremely tense after all the cannonades and heavy casualties, so if I let any of my men into town, I’d better make sure they behaved like meek little lambs. You keep good discipline in the regiments, dear cousin, but we might be spending a fair amount of time in this part of the world now, so no need to risk fouling the nest.”
“Amazing.” Melchior shook his head and grinned briefly. “Common sense from the Wolf! I wonder if it’s a sign of the second coming?”
“Could be.” Wolf shrugged. “The arrival of the Americans is certainly the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard of. But talk about fouling the nest: Archbishop Ferdinand was last seen heading for Aachen with his men and I guess it’ll be impossible to avoid some kind of contact with the man. Sweeping the area for small groups of deserters and other bandits must be coordinated with the councils of both Cologne and Bonn, but I’d like to go find the archbishop right away.”
“No.” All traces of a grin had left Melchior now. “I know Wallenstein prevented you from settling your score with Irish Butler and his friends, but the situation here is still too unstable. You will make no moves in the direction of Aachen without my express permission. That is a direct order, and not even you will get away with breaking it.”
“Hmpf!” Wolf set off at a quick pace with Melchi
or a few steps behind him and not trying to catch up. The mood of the town seemed good; even the rowdiest voices had a friendly undertone, and there were more laughter and songs than shouting. That could change quickly, but the cold evening with a few scattered bits of snow beginning to fall would not lend itself to the kind of major gathering in the squares where things could get really out of control.
“You rarely demand that kind of obedience from me these days, Cos.” Wolf had stopped and turned to face Melchior. “Has your faith in my judgment eroded?”
“Not at all, old friend, you did an excellent job getting the regiments here, and at a most impressive speed.” Melchior smiled and slapped his hand on Wolf’s shoulder. “But you’ve always hated politics, and despite your words about not fouling the nest, I’m not really certain that you’ve considered all the implications of my marriage to Charlotte. Not only are we no longer mercenaries moving from place to place, we are also no longer just the local Hatzfeld family, who serve the higher ranking nobility in various capacities. Charlotte is a ruler in her own right now. Her cousin is third in line for the Swedish throne and thus—at least theoretically—for Emperor of the USE. I don’t know what’ll happen with Archbishop Ferdinand, but Charlotte must maintain a good standing with the church as well as with the secular powers. And that includes what is left of Archbishop Ferdinand’s family in Bavaria.”
1635- the Wars for the Rhine (ARC) Page 23