Father Johannes sat up, suddenly very alert. Was there a danger to that alliance? “Winning by military means? None, unless the Catholic countries suddenly started working together and didn’t count the cost. The present engagement could barely stop the Swedes and their German allies, and the addition of the Americans has made the Protestant army much more efficient. The Americans are very good at fighting, but their real value is their handling of resources, which they call the Sinews of War. Oh, winning a few battles against them would be entirely possible, perhaps even regaining a major part of Bishop’s Alley while they were occupied elsewhere. But sooner or later, they’d turn this way to push back. And then they’d just keep pushing until they reached the sea. Something like the entire French and Spanish armies might get them to accept a border not drawn by American conquests, but I wouldn’t count on it. The concept of accepting defeat gracefully appears to be incomprehensibly to them.”
“As for winning by negotiations?” Father Johannes shrugged, “I don’t think that’s possible at all. Not because of the terms and deals that might be made, but because the American “land” will always be defined by ideas rather than borders; and those ideas are going to spread. Those Committees of Correspondence we discussed the other day are just a small part; no matter the result of a negotiation, people will sooner or later hear those ideas and chose for themselves among them.” Father Johannes gave a grin. “Of course people don’t always choose wisely, so I also want the church around to guide them. But guide, not dominate.”
“Hm!” Melchior kept pulling his beard. “The archbishop wants me to lead an army—nothing surprising in that—but those regiments he has been hiring don’t stand a chance of success even as far up the Rhine and Main as Frankfurt. My own regiments are quartered at Linz under temporary command of my cousin Wolf, ready to strike northwards if Wallenstein makes a move. Since it’s highly unlikely that Wallenstein would do anything so stupid, Archbishop Ferdinand want to borrow me and my men from the Emperor. If that cannot be done, he plans to use his own dragoons as a kind of decoy, to draw attention while he strikes in some other fashion. Wouldn’t give me the details, but hinted at discrediting the Americans in some way. One of the Bamberg clerics was very drunk and started giggling about a renegade Jesuit, spying and corrupting for the Americans: nurtured like a snake at the bosom of the church. The way Franz cut him off made me wonder if you might not better keep your saddlebags packed, Father Johannes. You could also come with me back to Linz.”
“I’m getting really annoyed with Ferdinand,” said Maxie tapping her fingernails against the table, “and THAT he can just forget about!”
“But Maxie,” Melchior’s broad grin was an open challenge, “since you are a nun, an archbishop is surely in a position to give you orders.”
“Nun, my bare arse!” Maxie suddenly slammed her hand against the table. “I’ve spend fifteen years trying to make it possible for nuns to enter seclusion for the contemplation of God same as it is for monks, and I’ve gotten nowhere! Nuns are supposed to work for their support. Teaching young girls and tending the sick. Not even studying medicine. Oh, no. Just cheap nursing. When Ferdinand sent for me last year I was this close,” she held up two fingers barely an inch apart, “from renouncing my wows, and telling my ducal relatives to go to hell. I’m sick and tired of trying to placate everybody to get their support. Playing by the rules while every male relative I’ve got are flaunting any that don’t suit them.”
“Well, I don’t blame you, dearest Maxie,” Melchior was openly laughing now, “and if you find yourself in need of gainful employment, I could certainly use an officer with your talent for organization.”
“No thanks. Trousers don’t become me, and I’ve got enough people owing me debts and favors to set myself up for any life I fancy. And now I want to get rid of this pearl-encrusted armor I’m wearing. Good night. Lucie, do you want to come?”
Magdeburg, Government Palace
June 26, 1634
“Welcome back to Magdeburg, Chancellor Oxenstierna.” Amalie smiled up at the spare face of the Swedish chancellor, while maneuvering in the crush of people attending the party celebrating the Congress of Copenhagen to place herself directly before him. “Did the journey go well?”
“Yes, thank you, My Lady.” The chancellor seemed to decide that escape was impossible, and that trying to direct the conversation was his best option. “And how is the organization of the new Hesse-Kassel province coming along? Are you having any trouble with getting the last commitments?”
“None whatsoever, Chancellor.” Amalie fixed the smile on her face. The chancellor was very good at keeping informed, even when travelling around the Baltic Sea. Some members of the Nassau family were indeed still making trouble. Oh, they’d agree in the end, but not until they had squeezed every bit of advantage out of the situation. She continued. “I assume that the whole of Berg is to be included in Hesse-Kassel, now that both Duke Wolfgang and his heir are dead.”
“I’m quite certain that the emperor does not wish to make a final decision on that question, until after Princess Katharina’s young cousin, Katharina Charlotte, has given birth to the child she is carrying.” The chancellor smiled back at Amalie. “So, you’ve got the final holdouts among the Nassau family to agree to the proposed structure for the province? Impressive.”
“Has a guardianship been settled for the unborn child?” Amalie headed into battle. “We have written Gustavus Adolphus offering our house for this. Katharina Charlotte is little more than a child herself, but with Hesse-Kassel as overlord we would have...”
“You over-step yourself, My Lady.” All traces of a social smile had now disappeared from the chancellor’s face. “The child has plenty of relatives on its mother’s side, and any guardianship for the child and the land will be settled within the Vasa and Zweibrücken families. Also, according to a codicil to the marriage contract the late Duke Wolfgang settled the entire Jülich-Berg on Katharina Charlotte as her dower and heritage, if the duke died without heirs of his body. So, whether the child lives or dies, Jülich and Berg are not necessarily included in your province. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go have a few words with Duchess Hedwig. Christian August, her oldest son, would be next in line for Jülich-Berg if it had not been for that peculiar marriage contract.”
“I think I’ll go with you, Chancellor. I haven’t yet had the opportunity to inquire after Christian August’s health. As you know, he had trouble recovering from the pox that killed his father and brothers. Quite a crush here tonight, don’t you think?” Amalie took the chancellor’s arm and thought quickly. Oxenstierna's care for the interest of the Swedish royal family was well known, but he would never have spoken for Gustavus Adolphus like that unless he really was certain that this was the Emperor’s decision. Had she just made a major mistake? It was too late to stop the letter.
“Quite so, My Lady. And talking about crushes, there seems to be quite a lot of soldiers gathering west of the proposed borders of Hesse-Kassel, so I’ve sent a message for your husband to remind him not to engage in any combat with the army of Essen presently occupying Düsseldorf. The emperor does not want a battle with Essen.”
“Oh, and does Gustavus Adolphus intend to donate to his good friend De Geer the entire lot of land once belonging to Johann the Insane—or just those areas the Americans tell us potentially forms the most important industrial area of Europe?” Amalie very nearly lost control of her temper to see the chancellor silently laughing at her. With Wolfgang gone—and Brandenburg turned traitor—Jülich, Berg, Cleve, Mark and all the smaller areas should be up for grab. And to be blocked by the emperor, who owned Hesse so much for all those years of faithful support! Making Hesse-Kassel the centre of a USE province was not enough, when it included nothing but rural backwaters.
“Good evening, Amalie, Good evening, Chancellor. You look a bit out of temper, my dear.” Hedwig of Holstein-Gottorp leaned forward to brush a kiss on Amalie’s cheek, and just looking into th
e kind eyes of her old friend made Amalie calm down. Hedwig was a very nice woman, even if they might now be rivals. It should be possible to reach some kind of accommodation with her.
“Good evening, Hedwig. I was just discussing the Jülich-Berg problem with the chancellor.” Amalie smiled. “I think he was needling me a bit. But, where do you stand my dear? Is Christian August well enough to handle that mess Wolfgang left behind?”
“A twelve year old, sickly boy?” Hedwig smiled wryly. “No, thank you. I may not have your interest in politics, Amalie, but I’m not a complete idiot. As soon as we got the information about the demise of both Wolfgang and his heir, I sat down and wrote a statement leaving all claims on behalf of my son to the emperor’s discretion.”
“I see.” Amalie looked up at the chancellor, whose eyes were still laughing in an otherwise completely sombre face. “And do Wolfgang’s two other siblings agree with Hedwig, Chancellor?”
“Since Hilpoltstein’s wife, Sofie Agnes, is Hesse’s first cousin, I’m sure you know that she has been unable to carry a child to term. And that the American doctors couldn’t help. Anna Marie von Neuburg is still undecided, but little Elisabeth Sophia is her only living grandchild, so Saxe-Altenburg also plans to follow Hedwig’s example. Apparently some of your peers believe in trusting the emperor to do what is best, for their class as well as for the USE. Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.”
This time Amalie let the chancellor escape and sat down silently beside Hedwig, slowly using her fan to cool her face, while automatically nodding and smiling to the people passing by. Damn! It simply hadn’t occurred to her to seek the emperor’s favor by leaving the decision to him. If Gustavus Adolphus was heading towards becoming one of those absolute monarchs that the American books had told about, then the old ways of playing for power simply had to be dumped. Mary Simpson had more than indicated that the time for independent military conquests was over, but this quickly and with no protests? Amalie looked at Hedwig sitting serenely next to her. Jülich and Berg had come to the Neuburg family from Wolfgang’s mother, Anna, who was one of Johann the Insane’s four sisters. With all her other children out of the way there were none who could contest Wolfgang’s marriage contract on the basis of consanguinity, since the nearest male heir after the baby would be Katharina Charlotte’s brother, Count Palatine Friedrich von Zweibrücken.
Hesse’s artillery had been stalled for weeks crossing the mountains south of Ludenscheid, while the Hessian cavalry had wasted their time hunting French cavalry, which had not been attacking Essen, but rather coming rapidly first north and then south near Soest. With the army of Essen now firmly in control of Düsseldorf, this entire month of campaigning had been a total waste, and there didn’t seem to be anything else to do but go back to taking Cologne. Amalie rose from her seat with a brief invitation to Hedwig for a visit the next day, and headed for the door. She had to get another telegram off to Hesse, but first her bladder demanded a visit to a water closet.
Chapter 5
Cologne, Hatzfeldt House
July, 1634
“You could move your regiments here by way of Trier!” Bishop Franz was almost shouting at Melchior, and obviously far from his usually calm self.
“No, dear brother, I could not.” Melchior went to put his hand on Franz shoulder trying to calm him down, but Franz shook it off and went to stare out the window at the masons building the framework for the new stable wall.
“I’ve told you before,” Melchior continued, “that unless I had permission from every ruler along the way—starting with Bavaria or Bohemia both of which are equally unlikely at the moment—I would be fighting a new army every time I crossed a river or a mountain pass. Usually small armies, true, but even if I had a direct order from The Holy Roman Emperor, I would still try to talk my way out of it.” Melchior took a walked to stand beside his brother and put an arm around the shorter man’s shoulder. “I cannot do what you want, my dear brother,” Melchior smiled, “but then you never did have the slightest understanding of military matters. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? You know I want to help you regain your winegrowing kingdom on the river Main, but why do you insist on trying to do so by fighting, when all that you have ever achieved has been gained through negotiations. You are acting totally out of character, and none of us understand it.”
Franz turned to his brother and opened his mouth—then shook his head and walked out the room slamming the door behind him.
Cologne, Beguine of Mercy
The market stalls were closing down, but a fair number of people were still standing around talking. Not, Charlotte noted, the usual gossiping housewives, who had gone late for the market looking for bargains at the end of the day, but men from all set of life standing around with serious and slightly worried expressions talking in low voices that fell silent as Charlotte came near.
Well, Charlotte was worried too. Worried about the fate of the child frequently kicking in her womb; worried about the lives of General Merode and his men fighting as well the army of Essen as the Hessians moving in from the East; worried that her brother had once again been delayed; but most of all worried about the letters from Archbishop Ferdinand in Bonn getting more and more insistent that she should seek his protection and place herself and her unborn child under his authority. She had not intended to even let the archbishop know that she and Elizabeth had taken refuge in the Beguine of Mercy in Cologne, but her stupid sister had written to the man, when Charlotte didn’t, and since then he had kept pestering her to come to Bonn, He had even gone so far as sending that disgusting lackey of his, Felix Gruyard, whom Maxie had told her was actually a torturer from Lorraine.
Maxie had come to visit her twice at the Beguine, and Charlotte was becoming more and more impressed with the sheer number of people Maxie knew, and the amount of information they brought her. Charlotte had rarely left the Beguine since her arrival, not just because her growing belly made it difficult for her to get around, but also because she didn’t want anybody to recognize her. Hopefully Friedrich—or at least one of her uncles—would come soon in response to her letters. She felt vulnerable in the Beguine knowing that both De Geer of Essen and Wilhelm of Hesse-Kassel now had armies in Berg and certainly would have agents searching Cologne for her and her unborn child.
Today, however, Elizabeth’s nagging and fretting had been driving her up the walls, and after the evening meal Charlotte had covered her face with a veil, quietly slipped out, and headed for Hatzfeldt House to spend an hour with Maxie before the Beguine closed its doors at sunset. Unfortunately Maxie had left Cologne to visit her brother in Bonn, and was not expected back until late tonight, so instead Charlotte had walked slowly around the market until they started to close down.
Heading back towards the Beguine Charlotte was startled to see the cadaverous shape of Felix Gruyard, the archbishop’s messenger and torturer, talking with two men on the street across from the Beguine, and she made a quick turn to head for the side door, only to feel her thin leather shoe slip on the uneven cobbles. Curling her arms around her belly to protect her child as she fell, Charlotte felt a strong grip on her dress and shoulder pull her back upright again, and she looked up to see the man she had just passed smiling down at her.
“I do not see your maid, Milady. May I be of any assistance to you?”
Charlotte made a quick glance over her shoulder to where Gruyard was still talking, then looked back at her rescuer, and nodded. She couldn’t see much more of his face than a rather ragged red goatee beneath the broad-brimmed hat, but his language assured her that he was well educated, and his clothes were new and in a cut that allowed easy movements and reminded her of General Merode.
“Yes, please. I had left the Beguine for a brief visit to a friend, but I seem to have become more fatigued than I had realized. If you’d be as kind as to lend me your arm across these uneven cobbles?”
“Certainly.” The man turned around and held out his arm, obviously intending to take her to
the main door.
“To the side door, please. It is down that street. It would be much closer to my room.” Going that way would also keep the man between her and Gruyard. She really didn’t like that man.
The walk to the door was brief, and Charlotte didn’t feel like talking, but it felt nice and calming just walking with the strong arm to lean on. The man beside her smelled faintly of lavender and horses. He was probably an officer of some kind, and she briefly considered asking for his name. No. That meant that she would have to give her own, and she wanted as few people as possible to realize where she was.
At the door she said a polite goodbye, and slipped unseen back to her room. The walk seemed to have calmed her mind as much as she had hoped a talk with Maxie to do, and it now seemed possible to write a few letters before going to sleep.
* * *
An hour or so later Charlotte was just pressing her seal into the warm wax on the final letter when the door to her room was opened without a knock.
“The archbishop bids you come to Bonn.”
“What!” Charlotte looked up startled from the letter she had been writing. The Beguine would have closed its door for the night by now, and she had expected the person entering the room to be her sister, Elisabeth, but instead Felix Gruyard stood in front of her. She had thought him a most unpleasant person ever since he had first come to speak with her husband, but now just facing those cold, unwavering eyes for some reason frightened her out of her wits.
“I’m sorry, Master Gruyard. Did you come to bring me a letter?” Charlotte had barely managed to pull herself together when a scream from another part of the building made her jump up from the chair and turn run toward the door leading to the inner courtyard.
1635- the Wars for the Rhine (ARC) Page 6
