Occupied Saxony
April, 1633
Kleinjena, Saxony
"I can see Kleinjena!" Helena said. "We are home!"
Heinz smiled. He was happy his wife was excited, but they had been gone almost two years. He wasn't sure what kind of reception they'd receive. Everyone in Kleinjena had scattered in May of 1631 when Tilly's soldiers swept through after the sack of Magdeburg.
"Herr Kraft!" Peter's son Hans spotted them as soon as they got close. "Papa! Papa! Herr Kraft is back!" He raced off to find his father.
"Well, so much for arriving quietly," Heinz said.
"Our families will be happy to see us," Helena told him.
Heinz was not entirely sure about that. "Yours will. Let's go see them first."
"Helena!" Her sister Maria spotted them. "Mutti! Helena is home!" She ran up to them and embraced Helena, being careful not to crush the baby Helena had in a sling.
"Maria, this is your nephew Markus Heinrich."
"He is so adorable!" Maria squealed. "You're so big!" she told the baby.
By then her mother had come out of the house.
"Helena! You brought my grandson!"
Heinz smirked. He understood how this worked.
After cooing over her grandson, Frau Eichlerin gave them a look. "You will be staying with us, of course."
"Danke."
"Come inside, come inside. Simon, go get your father."
Helene and Maria's younger brother raced off.
"Let me prepare some food. How was your trip?"
"It was slow, but Markus had a good time," Helene said.
"Any trouble?"
"None. The roads are safe."
Helene's father Tobias Olbricht arrived a few minutes later.
"Helene! Heinrich!" He embraced both of them. A few minutes later he looked up from playing with baby Markus. "You have come back to stay?"
"Ja."
"Gut. We need you here."
Heinz nodded. "I think we have enough to buy into the village. If there are any openings," he added quickly.
"Ja, there are openings. Six houses are still empty. The Langs and the Bayers did not come back." Helena's father seemed about to say more when they all heard a shout outside.
"That is Berles, wondering where I am. Give me a few minutes to get him talking about how we are not preparing the field correctly, and you can go see your family in peace, Heinrich."
"Danke."
****
The Krafts' house was right on the main road while the Olbrichts' was on the major side street on the southern edge of the village.
Heinz’s mother was equally delighted to see her grandson. "You are the most precious little baby," she repeated at least twice in a sing-song voice.
But after cooing over the baby some more, she asked, “Are you staying? You should have come back when the Olbrichts did. Your place is here.”
“Ja, we would like to stay. We were only halfway through our program in Grantville when the Olbrichts returned, and Helene was seven months pregnant. The roads are even safer now that Tilly and Wallenstein have been defeated."
She sniffed. "The Olbrichts should have fled to Leipzig with us instead of running all the way to Grantville. Then you could have come back last year. Some people did not return until after planting, so the crops were barely half what they should have been. The same will happen this year, too, because after the rent and the tithes and eating enough to stay alive through the winter, we do not have enough seed to plant every field.”
Heinz shrugged off the homemade backpack he was wearing. “That is okay. I have brought seed.”
“You have!”
“But not grain—vegetables.”
The door swung open. Heinz's father Markus entered.
"Heinrich! You are back!"
"Ja."
"Are you staying?"
"Ja. I was just telling Mother—we brought seeds." He lifted the backpack.
"What kind of seeds?"
****
Later that evening, a number of families visited to welcome Heinz and Helene home and see Markus for the first time. Before too long, the house was full, and the men drifted over to Johann and Margareta Bause's house.
Kleinjena was too small to have a dedicated inn, but Johann had a large front room that served as the village tavern, and his wife kept an extra room. It was seldom used. The few travelers who came through the Unstrut Valley could almost all make the journey from Naumburg northwest to Freyburg in a single day. But it didn't matter because the Bauses made the best beer in Kleinjena.
Johann clapped Heinz on the back. “Glad to see you back, Heinz! We did not think anyone else was coming back.”
Heinz frowned. “We may be the last ones. I posted messages at the refugee housing in Grantville looking for anyone from the Saaletal between Kösen and Weissenfels. The only family from this area I know of still in Grantville is Willi Buschmann's family from Rossbach.”
“Willi is a hard worker. Not coming back will hurt Rossbach,” said Stefan Berles.
Heinz understood the veiled challenge immediately. Stefan's father August was a village councilman, and if he decided that Heinz had let the village down by not coming back last year, he could make things very difficult. But as it happened, Heinz had the perfect counter.
“He is,” Heinz agreed. “He got a job in one of the machine shops in Grantville, working for a man named Ollie Reardon. When Reardon and a German named Struve started making rifles, Willi moved over to that company. His wife cooks for an up-time family. Their children are in school. Willi told me they earn enough to send money home to Rossbach. And they are staying because Willi will be a supervisor soon.”
“Really?” Peter Hofmann asked. “So why are you not doing the same?”
From someone like Berles, that would have been insulting. But Markus Kraft had taught Peter how to farm, and when a young Heinz had asked too many questions, his father Markus had sent him to bother Peter. Heinz, in turn, was a great favorite of Peter's son Hans who had so quickly broadcast his return a few hours ago. Peter would know that Heinz had a good reason for not doing the same as Willi Buschmann. Still, Heinz knew a lot rested on how he answered this question.
"Willi cannot do that job here unless someone builds a machine shop or a gunsmithy in Rossbach. I learned a job in Grantville that I could bring back.”
“What’s that?”
“They call it master gardener.”
Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. “They have a guild for farmers?”
“No. Meister does not mean the same thing to them. They taught me how to grow vegetables from when they came from. There is not enough room in the Grantville area, so they are sending their seeds across the Germanies with people who know how to grow them. We have some.”
“What kind of seed?”
“The first ones are geraniums, and they should be planted soon. They are just flowers but when they come up—about the time of Eisheilige—it is time for the next planting. Potatoes and onions.”
“We do not have enough animals to need more potatoes,” Stefan cut in.
“No, these are not for animals. They are what the up-timers call a cash crop. They will actually pay us to grow potatoes as long as we cut them up and replant them to grow even more potatoes next year. Three in four must be replanted.”
“Why do they want so many?” Heinz's friend Wilhelm asked.
“For food.”
"Ewwww! I thought they were rich. Why do they need to eat fodder?"
"By the time they are from, people knew many ways to make potatoes taste good," Heinz explained.
"So they are from the future?" Wilhelm asked.
That started a long discussion. Peter asked question after question until men started going home. Then he leaned back and smiled.
"I thought Stefan Berles would never leave. Now tell us about learning to be a gärtnermeister. What did you do in the winter, Heinz? No farming to be done then."
"The up-timers have buildings called greenhouses. That is a building that is mostly windows where they can grow plants in the winter. The master gardener we learned from had a room on the side of her house with a lot of windows. Not a true greenhouse, but we grew some herbs and spices then. We also went to school."
Johann laughed. "I can see you in a room with all the kinder."
"The classes Helena and I took were what the up-timers call adult education. We learned some English. We can read better in German, too. And we can write and do figures."
"Why bother?" Hans asked.
"As you said, you cannot farm in winter." Heinz leaned forward. "Johann, you need to write and do figures to run this place."
"Ja, a little."
"I think I am going to need to be able to figure if the new seeds grow as well as they did in Grantville."
"You are that confident?"
"Ja. Johann, during the winters I also worked at the Freedom Arches."
Johann's eyes widened. "That is where the Committees of Correspondence gather. They are dangerous. The duke has banned them in Saxony."
Heinz grinned. "That they are. The Freedom Arches started out as an up-time tavern. There were thousands of them when the up-timers come from, all with the same name and all serving the same food. Hamburgers—that is, beef on rolls—and sliced potatoes. Johann, Helena and I met an up-timer who did not live in Grantville but was caught in the Ring of Fire only because she had gone to the Freedom Arches for sliced potatoes."
"You think you can sell potatoes as food?"
"Not yet. We need to build up the supply first. But, Johann, we can flavor sausages so that they taste like they came from distant lands, like Italy. We have recipes from Grantville."
"That will be fun. But we cannot sell them in Naumburg," Johann reminded him. "The butchers' guild will not allow it."
"We do not have to sell them in Naumburg," Heinz explained. "Is there still a rush on market days to get to Naumburg, only to wait at the gates until you are allowed in?"
"Nothing changes."
"The first in line is the first to set up and begin selling in the marketplace. We can leave Kleinjena sooner if we can eat breakfast as we go. And we can sell flavored sausages to people from other villages while we are all in the line."
Johann nodded slowly. "You might have something there."
Heinz smiled. "We would like to talk to the gemeinde about buying a share in the village."
The dickering started immediately.
"Tomorrow night, after dinner," Gerd Werner finally stated. He was another village councilman.
Heinz nodded his thanks.
****
Markus Heinrich woke them early the next morning. Heinrich took the opportunity to talk to his wife privately.
"Do you still want to do this?" Heinz asked.
"Oh, yes, Heinz. Everyone is as I remember." Helena frowned briefly. "Exactly as I remember."
"We will just have to convince them we can be very productive citizens," Heinz said. "Or, ah, very productive villagers. Citizenship is going to take longer to explain." He pulled something out of the pack. "Do you want it?"
"You keep it."
Heinz carefully tucked the cap and ball revolver into the holster in the back of his pants.
Throughout the rest of that day and all of the next, Heinz found himself being pulled aside by this man or that man. The women of Kleinjena were doing the same to Helena. He did not mind; it was how things were done in the village. By the time the gemeinde actually met, almost everyone would know where almost everyone else stood.
Heinz and Helena made a point of arriving early so that they could secure seats at one of the tables that was brought into the church for meetings. Pastor Christoph Laurentius prayed, and then Gerd Werner opened the meeting.
"Heinz Kraft and Helena Olbrichtin wish to buy into the village. We all know there are six empty houses. In three of those cases, the lehen-holder and the former tenants have come to a mutual agreement, and the houses stand ready for whoever contracts with the lehen-holder. Upon the recommendation of the gemeinde, of course. You all know Heinz and Helena. . . ."
As was traditional in Kleinjena, Heinz's father rose to speak. He gave Heinrich a factual endorsement without building him up too much. He barely mentioned Helena. And that was about what Heinz had expected. Helena's father spoke next. He praised both Helena and Heinz extensively. No surprise there, either. Peter and Wilhelm spoke up in favor. Then August Berles spoke against them.
Heinz watched August intently, jotting down each point. Finally August accused him of ostentation for pretending he was a clerk.
"He comes to us putting on airs and bearing nothing but magic seeds," he sneered.
Johann Bause rose quickly and spoke strongly in favor of Heinz and Helena, mentioning the up-time seeds, their education, and Heinz's idea of developing a product they could sell to people from other villages.
Joachim Müller rose to his feet. He had been Kleinjena's miller for a long time, but his sons did most of the grinding now. But he was still shrewd.
"I like this young man's idea," he stated. "You all know we are allowed to sell weekly in Naumburg and pay a heavy fee to do so. It would be good to have something we can sell to the other villages."
"In less than a week they will be putting sausages on rolls! That is not hard to do."
"But ours will taste better," Heinz stated. "We have recipes for different sausages from all over Germany and even from Italy. And so will you."
"The other villages will figure it out," Gabriel Wenck rasped.
"It is possible," Heinz admitted. "But, Herr Wenck, has anyone ever figured out exactly what your wife puts in her stew?"
At least half of those present laughed. Ursula Liebertin was one of the best cooks in the village and guarded her recipes zealously. When the laughter died down, several men muttered for the vote.
But then August Berles himself rose to his feet. "We do not even know if these young people are legally married."
Heinz handed Gerd Werner an envelope. "That is from Pastor Decker in Schwarzburg."
"Banns . . . duly married . . . . It looks in order to me," Werner agreed. He handed it to Pastor Laurentius.
"Ja, this is official."
"How would you pay for your lease?" Berles asked.
Heinz handed over another page. "This is what the up-timers think the seeds are worth. The first column is their dollars. The second column is silver."
"And what else can you contribute?"
"You have seen us work," Heinz stated. "If you agree we should grow new crops we can sell in Naumburg, I will help keep the books. That is why I went to the school. And we have some silver."
There were a few more objections raised, but they were all minor. The gemeinde endorsed Heinrich for the standard lease—ninety-nine years or three generations. Now it was up to the lehen-holder, but with empty houses and the gemeinde's endorsement, that was almost a foregone conclusion.
****
The geraniums went in right away. When those sprouted in May, they planted onions, potatoes, and rhubarb. Next tomatoes, asparagus, basil, parsley, dill and marigolds were planted together because Heinz and Helene's master gardener had explained that those plants helped each other.
Finally they planted the peas, beans, carrots, celery, radishes, peppers, cucumbers, cabbage, and zucchini as they had time. The up-time seeds were new and exciting but planted alongside large amounts of dependable grain and kale.
There was enough rain that summer, but not too much. The harvest was good—not great, but solid. Most of the up-time seeds produced respectable crops. The zucchini was outstanding. The asparagus and rhubarb grew well, but couldn't be harvested for another year. The tomatoes struggled. Heinz was disappointed; he had plans for them. But the garlic and basil had grown well and along with the marigolds, they protected what tomatoes did grow. Only a few crops failed completely.
The only thing that marred the season was the realization that the local grapevines were dying. That was bad enough in Kleinjena, but it was a huge concern in Freyburg and in the nearby villages of Nissmitz and Grossjena. Still, it seemed like 1633 might be the year that everything got back to normal. Then came word of the Battle of Wismar Bay.
Tuesday, October 11, 1633
The Saxon Camp outside Magdeburg
"If you try to enter Magdeburg, we will fire into you. Now get out of here. Quickly!" Three days later, the Swedish officer's curt ultimatum still rankled. The fact that General von Arnim had had no choice but to comply rankled even more. It had been blatantly obvious that General Lennart Torstensson's Swedish army could have blown von Arnim's Saxons right off the road if they chose to.
"I say we attack the Swedes!" Captain Philip von Danner was young and brash.
Hans Friedrich von Hessler tried to ignore him. He was only twenty-two himself but had actually faced battle. True, von Danner said he was an experienced soldier. But von Hessler was all but certain that "von Danner" was an assumed name, and he was no more convinced that the man was a veteran than he was of the adel.
Hans Friedrich's family might not be more than middling Neideradel, but they were nobles—which made an already dangerous situation far, far worse. Most of the family's estates were in Saxony, and his father Hans Heinrich the elder had appealed a financial dispute to Duke John George not all that many years ago. However, his father was also a vocal supporter of Gustav II Adolf, "the Lion of the North," who was emperor of the Confederated Principalities of Europe. The CPE had just become the United States of Europe, and Duke John George's Saxony was leaving.
That was complete idiocy, in Hans Friedrich's opinion. John George might be his duke, but he was trying to play off Gustav against the Holy Roman Empire. Gustav was not the sort of man who would tolerate his supposed allies not supporting him, especially now that the League of Ostend had attacked. Moreover, John George's electorship in the Holy Roman Empire mattered a lot less now that Gustav's armies and his up-time allies held what used to be the middle of the empire.
"We can gather all the electors and drive the Swede out!" That was von Danner again, and he was flat wrong. Sure, four of the seven electors supported Emperor Ferdinand II outright, and if Saxony and Brandenburg joined in they would have all but one.
Hans Friedrich decided he ought to mention that. "Do you not mean six out of seven electors, since Wallenstein would certainly side with Gustav and the up-timers? Have you ever faced him before?"
"Nein," von Danner had to admit.
"I have," Hans Friedrich stated. "I was a leutnant under Trautzsch when von Arnim took Prague after Breitenfeld. When Wallenstein took it back in May of 1632, our army shattered. Just like at Breitenfeld. That was a horrible retreat. If we had not reached Oberst Vitzthum's regiment when we had . . ." He shook his head. He still did not understand how he had come to be in command of one of the largest intact fragments of von Arnim's forces.
"Gustav cannot possibly hold off the League of Ostend. They have him surrounded in Lübeck! Surely they will capture him in the siege."
"Absolutely!" a voice boomed behind Hans Friedrich. He had not heard Major Ermischer enter. "By the end of next year, the Swedes will be defeated as the Catholics already have been. We will finally have peace. That is Duke John George's view."
My prince is insane, Hans Friedrich realized. Counting on someone else to defeat the Lion of the North so that he could benefit from it was the height of folly. Joining the League would be suicidal for Saxony. Hoping the League won was . . . cowardly. Dishonorable. Unworthy. And what if Gustav won anyway?
"Wine?" one of the other officers offered.
Hans Friedrich looked around. The evening's festivities were clearly starting.
"Nein, danke," von Hessler answered. "I believe I will retire early tonight."
It was just as well that he had a lot to think about. He couldn't have slept anyway with all the noise the other Saxon officers were making. Sometime during the night Hans Friedrich reached his decision. If Saxony were going to fight, he would be there leading his men. He would rather they fought alongside Gustav, if only to keep the peace with his father. But if they fought against him openly, he would not shirk his duty. But stand by and rely on the treacherous League of Ostend? That was intolerable.
****
In the morning, Hans Friedrich von Hessler found his regiment's adjutant and scheduled a meeting with his colonel. By mid-afternoon his resignation was official. He gathered his company one last time and told them. He told one of von Arnim's staff officers as a courtesy, and to his surprise he was ushered in to see the general.
"I cannot say I am pleased about this, von Hessler. Have you considered what you will do now?"
"I suppose I will go home and see my family." Hans Friedrich took a deep breath. "And I will probably join an army that will still be involved in the war."
General von Arnim nodded. Hans Friedrich was pretty sure that was the sort of nod a wise elder gives a hot-headed younger man.
"Choose well. Thank you for the retreat from Prague. You are welcome in my command any time."
"Danke, Herr General."
Monday, October 17
Klosterhäseler, Saxony
"Hans Friedrich!"
He blinked in surprise. "Hans Heinrich! What are you doing here?" he blurted out.
"The same thing you are, I imagine," his brother said. He clapped Hans Friedrich on the shoulder. "Come in and see Father and Georg Rudolf."
"Georg is here, too?"
"Father sent messengers to all of us. He managed to pry Georg away from the bank for a few days. Your courier must have missed you."
"I resigned from Saxon service," Hans Friedrich told him.
He had obviously taken Hans Heinrich by surprise. "Why?"
"We marched on Magdeburg."
"You did? What happened?"
"Torstensson threatened to fire on us if we did not turn back. So we did."
"Ah, so that is what happened. That news has not been clear." He clapped Hans Friedrich on the shoulder again. "I think I would have resigned, too."
They entered the schloss. After another round of greetings, Hans Heinrich the elder grew serious. "I am glad three of you could be here at the same time. We have much to discuss."
Hans Friedrich was dismayed at how frail his father looked.
"What is the matter, Hans Friedrich?"
He covered his feelings with a quick question. "Did you send for the girls as well, Father? I stayed in Balgstädt last night. Elisabeth is well. I could be back with her in a day."
"Not yet. Elisabeth has a good head on her shoulders, and Georg Rudolf von Trotha is a good man, but she cannot help but be influenced by her husband in some things. I want to talk about what we think before I ask what the von Trothas think. Or the von Breitenbauchs, the von Burkersrodas, and the von Hüneckes," his father said, naming other families into which his daughters had married.
Hans Heinrich grinned at Hans Friedrich. "Did you stop in Freyburg as well? To pay your respects to the von Burkersroda family?"
"Of course."
George Rudolf von Hessler looked back and forth between his two younger brothers. "Von Burkersroda?"
"Hans Friedrich is courting Christina von Burkersroda."
George Rudolf laughed. "Well, then, Father, you must let her and Hans Friedrich live in Burkersroda so that she may have her own village back."
"We will talk about it," their father promised.
****
After dinner, the von Hessler men found seats in front of the fireplace.
"I believe we are facing a crisis," Hans Heinrich the elder stated, "and I fear we will be caught between Emperor Gustav Adolf and Duke John George. Hans Friedrich, tell us. What actually happened in Magdeburg?"
Hans Friedrich took a deep breath. "I was not actually in Magdeburg. Torstensson refused to allow us to enter. But here is what I understand . . ."
Wednesday, October 19
Klosterhäseler, Saxony
"So we are agreed?" Georg Rudolf asked.
"Ja,"Hans Heinrich the elder stated. "I will not break up our estates in my will. They will stay together, and you will govern them together. As the dukes of Saxe-Weimar do. I have assembled all the von Hessler holdings. Georg is right. If one of you—or one of your future sons—had to reassemble all of them, you would have little time left to develop what we already own. Equal shares—including Christoph, as soon as the courier finds him. Georg will send a man to Grantville and find out if there is anything we can do to better our position. If he finds we must quietly support the new crafts in Grantville, then we will do so. I mean using our money behind the scenes—nothing as unseemly as public involvement."
"And politically?" Hans Friedrich prompted.
Another voice preempted the answer. It belonged to Old Reinhold, their major domo. "Euer Gnaden, a courier has arrived."
"From Christoph?" Hans Heinrich the elder asked eagerly.
"No, sir. He is from Hauptmann von Trotha."
"Why send a courier?" Hans Friedrich wondered. "I was just there three days ago."
"Send him in," Hans Heinrich the elder said. "Let us find out."
Von Trotha's man bore a sealed envelope. Hans Heinrich the elder broke the wax and drew out a two-page letter. "Duke John George has decided not to join the new United States of Europe."
"Ja," Hans Friedrich said. "I told Hauptmann Georg that." Georg Rudolf von Trotha was always Captain Georg to distinguish him from his brother-in-law Georg Rudolf von Hessler.
"Hush!" Their father continued reading. "Emperor Gustav Adolf has decreed that the railroad must be protected. Accordingly he has asked the New United States to administer the territory west of the Saale River."
"What?" Hans Heinrich the younger came up out of his chair. "He cannot just take Saxon territory! We are his ally!"
"Hush! Listen. Duke John George will still own his lands and collect the rents. All contracts and lehen remain in force. The emperor commands everyone not to interfere with the railroad or navigation on the Saale River, and forbids anyone from interfering with or charging tolls on the trains themselves, the crew, passengers, cargo, and anything else Gustav has not thought of. The duke is free to govern his lands west of the Saale as a polity subordinate to the New United States in the same manner that Herzogtum Saxe-Weimar is subordinate to the New United States."
Hans Heinrich was practically beside himself. Georg Rudolf was not any happier. But Hans Friedrich nodded.
Hans Heinrich started to speak, but his father cut him off. "Reinhold, take Captain von Trotha's messenger to the kitchens and get him food and drink. I will have a reply, but not for some time yet."
Once the servants were gone, he nodded to his third son.
"You approve of this, little brother?" Hans Heinrich the younger demanded.
"Nein," Hans Friedrich answered. "I do not. But do you not see that Gustav must do this or something very much like it? Gustav's empire, whatever they call it, hinges on Magdeburg and Grantville. He simply cannot allow anyone else to control passage between them. If John George had stayed in the CPE or joined the United States of Europe or however you want to look at it, Gustav would not have needed to do this. But now he must do whatever is necessary to hold the river and the railroad."
Hans Heinrich the elder dropped his voice. "It pains me to say that I do not think Duke John George has acted wisely. Hans Friedrich is right. Gustav and the up-timers simply must hold the railroad and the river. But there is more in this letter from von Trotha." He consulted the second page. "The adel of this area is invited to gather to discuss this intolerable situation, etc.—at Balgstädt a week from Friday."
"Balgstädt!" Hans Friedrich demanded. "Captain von Trotha is very free with our estate!"
"Well, he is renting it," Hans Heinrich the elder reminded them. "But it is shrewd of him. First, it tells everyone we are solidly in John George's camp, and it prevents me from speaking out for Gustav Adolf as forcefully as I have in the past. Second, it is not Naumburg or Weissenfels. Any gathering right on the Saale River would appear to be an open plot for John George to secure the river and the railroad. Anything too far west and our legitimate concerns would be drowned out by the Count of Sommersburg's new business interests."
Friday, October 28, 1633
Balgstädt, Saxony
A week later, the von Hesslers arrived at Balgstädt. Elisabeth and her children ran out to welcome them. Her husband Captain Georg Rudolf von Trotha greeted them warmly and quickly fell into shop talk with Hans Heinrich the younger and Hans Friedrich.
"Now, now," Elisabeth chided. "You will have time enough to talk about that later." She picked up little Hippolyta Magdalena and guided the rest of the family inside. "Father, your room is ready. You boys are all in your old room. How many servants did you bring?"
"Reinhold and all the others you requested," her father answered.
Hans Heinrich the younger saw no reason to mention that he had tinkered with the list of servants. However, once the servants had delivered their belongings to the bedroom, Hans Heinrich pulled his brother aside.
"I substituted Jürgen for one of the footmen."
Hans Friedrich blinked. "Why? Do you expect trouble?"
"Nein, but why not be prepared? Besides, I wanted someone who would hear what I do not. You must have had someone like that in your company."
"I did."
****
Other guests had already begun arriving, and Hans Heinrich the younger was soon paying his respects to many of them. The older men gathered in a sitting room in front of a crackling fire. A few younger von Trothas wanted to talk about the war itself while the older ones focused on the new war taxes. Philipp Heinrich von Witzleben brought up the interest rate on the debt his family owed the von Hesslers. The Breitenbauchs were concerned that Gustav's war taxes would be applied to the part of Saxony being assigned to the NUS. Melchior Andreas von Trotha was complaining about the servants. Hans Heinrich refrained from pointing out that he could have brought his own and made his escape as soon as it was polite to do so.
He suspected some of the villagers were less than delighted to see him, but they were polite enough. He made an effort to be respectful in return, even if he did not really care about some of their concerns. Hans Schösgen, a dependable but brash man, enumerated the village's major problems. The vines were dying, and they thought their nobles ought to do something about that. Also, the village of Kleinjena was doing well at the Naumburg markets. Balgstädt was basically jealous. Hans Heinrich pointed out that Balgstädt sold its excess crops in Freyburg, while Kleinjena sold in Naumburg, so they were not in competition. But the villagers' primary concern was that Gustav Adolf was taking over the area. Hans Heinrich explained that it was a good deal more complicated than that. He came away with a feeling of dissatisfaction.
Over the next day, Hans Heinrich gained much experience in holding his tongue. He found himself thinking about the villagers' concerns as he listened to the adel's complaints. Each had some valid concerns. Each had a measure of greed. His family's demands for the money that von Witzleben owed them were only one example of that. None of the ideas of how they would stand up to Gustav Adolf were the least bit practical. Fighting Gustav would actually mean fighting Torstensson, and Hans Friedrich had already tried to explain to them why that was a very bad idea—but they weren't listening.
Saturday, October 29, 1633
Kleinjena, Saxony
Heinz Kraft quietly shut the door of the house. He took Helene's right hand with his left, and they made their way across Kleinjena's fields in the dark.
Once they were out of earshot of the village, Helene said, "I hope Markus Heinrich is all right."
Heinz squeezed her hand. "He will be fine, just like last time. His Aunt Maria is happy to take care of him tonight. I hope we are all right."
"We are just going for a swim, and then we will decide that it has indeed gotten too cold."
"It is a good story if anyone asks, but I am worried about you being out here," Heinz told his wife. "Suppose my parents really did see someone with a lantern out in the fields last night?"
"It was probably nothing. But you have the pistol, just in case."
They crossed Kleinjena's fields and reached the riverbank without incident.
"See? No lanterns." Helene looked at the river and sighed.
"I miss swimming, too. But we can walk along the river."
Grossjena was on the opposite side of the Unstrut, and closer to the riverbank than Kleinjena. So once they got close, Heinz and Helene turned around.
"It is none of their business if we walk on Kleinjena's lands," Helene pointed out. "But if any of them happen to see us, their busybodies are sure to complain, and then our busybodies will decide they can tell us where we can and cannot walk."
"It would never do for the two of us to make Grossjena uncomfortable," Heinz said. "After all, we could be plotting against them."
Helene snickered. A few minutes later she asked, "Heinz, do you think that Grossjena might have been where the ancient schloss was? After all, they are Great Jena, and we are Little Jena."
"Grossjena was originally settled by Wends, if our elders can be believed," Heinz pointed out. "I think it is more likely that the schloss was in Kleinjena—to keep an eye on them."
" 'If our elders can be believed.' Do you think we cannot trust them?"
Heinz thought that over. "I think they view everything in a way that agrees with what they think they already know," he said at last.
"How diplomatic, husband." Helene smiled mischievously. "That is not what you said about Herr Berles last week."
Heinz turned his head to reply and glimpsed a flash of light.
"Down!" he hissed.
Both of them dropped to the ground.
"What is it?" Helene whispered.
"Lantern. Behind us. Stay still."
Heinz very slowly tugged the cap and ball revolver free. The lantern drew nearer, and a horse and rider loomed out of the darkness. They lay very still as the horse and rider passed thirty yards away. Heinz could not see the man well enough to recognize him later, and he had absolutely no intention of getting any closer.
Once the horse and rider disappeared back into the night, Heinz held up both hands and starting counting on his fingers. Helene gave a quick nod, and they stayed on the ground until Heinz got to one hundred.
Heinz helped his wife up. She pointed toward Kleinjena. He nodded.
After a while, Helene whispered, "Is he gone?"
"I think so."
"Could you see who it was?"
"Nein. I wonder where he was going."
Helene grabbed his arm. "Do not go after him."
"Not tonight. Tomorrow after church, I will come back out here with Peter and Wilhelm. We will see if we can figure out where the horseman came from or where he was going."
"As long as all three of you go." Helene still sounded less than fully convinced. "Let's go home."
Sunday, October 30, 1633
Balgstädt, Saxony
Pastor Christoph Laurentius' ability to really turn a phrase made for some long sermons. Once the church service was finally over, Heinz pulled Peter and Wilhelm aside.
"Do either of you know anything about a horseman riding near the river last night?"
"Nein, and why would anyone do that when there is a road?" Peter asked.
"To avoid the dogs. He was carrying a lantern and riding south."
Wilhelm's eyes narrowed. "How you do know this?"
"Helene and I were out for a walk."
"I assume you want to follow the hoof prints?" Peter asked.
"Ja."
****
"Should we stop and look here?" Wilhelm asked a few minutes later.
"Nein, he was much closer to the river."
"You seem pretty sure of where you were, Heinz," Peter said. "How is that?"
"Helene and I were walking along the river."
"Suppose you tell us everything," Peter requested.
"Two nights ago my parents thought they saw a light in the fields. So last night Helene asked Maria if she wanted to take care of her nephew, and we went for a walk. Our plan was to tell anyone we met that we planned to go swimming but it was too cold."
"Convenient. I can think of other things you could have been doing," Peter said.
Heinz kept his mouth shut. Wisely, he thought.
"Why do you go swimming?" Peter asked as they approached the Unstrut River.
"You might have your wife ask Helene about up-time swimming clothes."
"Oh? Swimming clothes? That sounds complicated."
"Not really. There is not much to it." Heinz pointed. "See, right there. Hoof prints."
"Coming from the north," Wilhelm observed. "Do you want to find out where he came from or where he was going?"
"I think I want to know where he came from," Heinz answered.
They turned north. Soon a second set of hoof prints crossed the set they were following. Peter crouched down to examine them. "Same horse coming and going. See how one of the horseshoes is worn on one side?"
"We saw him ride south," Heinz stated. "I did not notice whether there were already hoof prints headed north or not."
"The hoof prints head away from the river here."
"He would not want to ride along the river until after he passed Grossjena," Heinz said.
They followed the tracks to the road.
"This will be harder," Peter stated. "Others have passed by. Keep watch for where else he left the road."
A little while later, Peter observed, "He left the road here, too, but in the other direction. He was avoiding Nissmitz. I wonder if he crossed the river from Freyburg."
The trail veered further west.
"I do not think he came from Freyburg," Wilhelm stated. "I think he was taking a short cut across the curve in the road here."
"That just happened to keep him out of sight of both Freyburg and Nissmitz," Peter pointed out.
"What is out this way?" Wilhelm asked.
"Balgstädt," Peter answered. "And eventually Laucha, but we do not have time to go that far."
"How far can we go?" Wilhelm asked.
Heinz glanced at the sky. "We should be home by dark."
"Balgstädt is far enough," Peter announced. "Look, these tracks come straight from there. This is likely where he started from."
"You men!" a voice shouted. "What are you doing?"
Peter looked around and swore. "There is a man inside the edge of the forest."
"Who are you men, and what are you doing?" the stranger called as he approached. He was broad-shouldered and had the look of someone who worked outdoors.
"Ich bin Heinz Kraft. These two are Peter and Wilhelm. We are from Kleinjena."
"That is down river. What are you doing here?"
"Tracking a horseman."
"Why?"
"He rode through Kleinjena's fields last night instead of down the road."
"And you tracked him here?"
"Ja. May we ask who you are?"
"Ich bin Jürgen Kröster. I am a huntsman for Hans Heinrich von Hessler of Klosterhäseler."
"I have heard of it."
Kröster pointed southwest. "Beyond these hills. But he also owns Balgstädt although he has rented it to Georg Rudolf von Trotha. Many nobles have gathered in Balgstädt."
Heinz looked at both Peter and Wilhelm. He decided to share what they knew. "My parents saw a light in the fields two nights ago. I saw a rider near the Unstrut River last night, out in Kleinjena's fields instead of on the road. We followed the tracks today. He avoided Nissmitz, too, and cut inside the curve of the road. So he would not have been seen from Freyburg, either. But his tracks lead directly into Balgstädt."
"Show me," Jürgen directed.
Peter found one of the hoof prints and pointed out the worn horseshoe.
"Danke," Jürgen said. "I will look for this horseshoe and find out whose horse wears it." He paused. "Have you heard about Wismar Bay and this new United States of Europe?"
"Ja."
"Duke John George decided that Saxony will not be part of it. Emperor Gustav says we are to be part of the New United States. The adel is worried about what will happen."
Heinz considered what to say. "We fled Kleinjena ahead of Tilly's men. My wife and I reached Grantville and lived there for almost two years. We learned much."
Jürgen smiled. "What did you learn?"
Heinz took a couple seconds to decide how much to say. "How to grow different kinds of plants. How to cook. How to read and write better."
Jürgen seemed to weigh his words, too. "Have you heard of a man named Jefferson?"
"Ja."
"So have I. I will find the horseman. Danke."
Monday, October 31, 1633
Reformation Day/All Hallow's Eve
The Unstrut Valley, Saxony
Early in the morning, Elisabeth found Hans Heinrich in the kitchen. "And just what are you doing, little brother?"
"Just wandering about, checking things. It is a habit I have from the army."
"I assure you my work does not need checking."
"I never thought it did," Hans Heinrich assured his sister. "But if I do not check something, I will be on edge all day."
Elisabeth's tone changed. "Why? Is it something about this gathering?"
"Ja."There was no point in trying to lie to Elisabeth. It had never worked before. "I share Father's concerns."
Elisabeth nodded. "As do I. But Saxony is Duke John George's realm, not Emperor Gustav's."
This part of Saxony is, Hans Heinrich thought, not that he intended to say that aloud just now. "Perhaps I should check on the servants."
Elisabeth shooed him out of the kitchen.
Hans Heinrich had no more than reached the servants' quarters when a low voice greeted him. "Euer Gnaden."Jürgen stepped out of a dark corner and motioned him back out into the hallway.
"What is it, Jürgen?"
"I have information. Not here." Jürgen dragged him out to the stables.
"What is it, Jürgen?" Hans Heinrich asked impatiently.
"A man left the schloss late last night," Jürgen told him. "I tracked him past Nissmitz, Kleinjena, and Rossbach. He entered Naumburg."
"He entered Naumburg?"
"The watch let him in," Jürgen confirmed. "An hour later he came back out and returned here."
"Do you know who he is?"
"He is not of the adel," Jürgen said, "and I have not seen him serving. So I think his job here is to be a courier."
"Jürgen, I think we may need to make that your job as well. Tracking couriers, that is. Describe the man to Reinhold. He may know who he is. Then get some sleep."
****
Later that morning there was a special church service for the anniversary of the Reformation. Pastor Christoph Schieferdecker was earnest and a bit long-winded but it was better than listening to the adel wrangle, which is what Hans Heinrich did for the rest of the day. They wanted to support Duke John George, and everyone was waiting for someone else to make the first move. Then Reinhold interrupted the evening discussion to deliver a message. Hans Heinrich unfolded the paper, read the message, and rose.
"My apologies. A small matter in the village . . ."
Captain von Trotha rose. "I will see to it."
"Nein, nein, it is my responsibility. I was walking through the village, and the farmers asked me to look into something. I was lost in thought and answered them as if they were men from my regiment. Since I said it, I had better go see to it."
"Now that is the sort of young man we are going to need," von Breitenbauch declared.
Hans Heinrich dashed through the rain to the stables where Jürgen waited for him.
"That courier just rode off again," Jürgen informed him.
"He is one of Melchior Andreas von Trotha's men," Reinhold said as he came through the door with Hans Friedrich in tow.
"Hans Friedrich?"
"I made my apologies to Christina. Let us ride."
Hans Heinrich looked at Reinhold. "You went and got Hans Friedrich on your own?"
"Ja. We do not know who or how many von Trotha's man is meeting."
"Still, that is not your place."
"What day is today, Euer Hochwohlgeboren?"
"The last day of October," Hans Friedrich answered.
"Reformation Day." Hans Heinrich had a sinking feeling that he knew where this was going.
"Dr. Luther reminded us to come to God by faith alone," Reinhold put in smoothly. "The up-timers brought us the words of many pastors and philosophers who say that people ought to be free."
"Perhaps we should leave those speculations to the pastors, Reinhold."
"Master von Hessler, what makes you think we want to involve you hochwohlgeboren in tracking von Trotha's man at all? But you owe us protection, and you are the ones who know how to fight if it comes to it."
"Reinhold!"
"Von Trotha's man is riding east toward Naumburg," Jürgen broke in. "If he is reporting to the duke's men, you will want to know, too."
"We will talk about this later," Hans Heinrich promised.
****
The storm had hit in the late afternoon, a cold driving rain out of the west that had sent everyone scurrying indoors—everyone, that is, except for Melchior Andreas von Trotha's man.
"There!" Jürgen pointed to a bobbing lantern up ahead.
The von Hessler brothers had been up and down the pathway beside the Unstrut River growing up. Riding it in the dark was possible as long as they kept their horses at a walk. Fortunately, the man they were following wasn't moving any faster than that.
"He has left the road to the east. He is avoiding Kleinjena." Jürgen's eyesight was excellent.
"I don't know why I have to carry the lantern," Hans Friedrich grumbled, "especially since we are not using it."
"I will need both hands if I need to fire the rifle," Jürgen said patiently.
"In this rain?"
"I have a sheep intestine over the end of the barrel and a cloth wrapped around the lock."
"I could fire the rifle."
"Ja. But can you hit with the first shot in the dark?"
Hans Friedrich didn't bother to answer.
Von Trotha's man returned to the pathway for a while, and then left it again.
"He is avoiding Rossbach, too," Jürgen said.
The horseman at the Saale River stopped and waved his lantern back and forth.
"What is he doing?" Hans Heinrich asked, reining in.
"He is meeting someone," Jürgen said. "Look. A boatman."
Hans Heinrich, Hans Friedrich, and Jürgen left Reinhold with the horses and snuck closer, but von Trotha's man was already in the boat. The boatman poled across the Saale, and his passenger stepped ashore and entered Naumburg.
"I can check upstream and downstream for any other boats," Jürgen said.
The two von Hessler brothers exchanged glances. "Why not?" Hans Heinrich said. "But if he crosses back, we will follow him. You will have to make your own way home without being seen."
"That will not be a problem," Jürgen assured him. "Look out for ghosts."
"What?"
"It is All Hallow's Eve. Even the up-timers say that ghosts walk the earth this night."
"Thank you very much, Jürgen," Hans Heinrich told him. "Get going."
Jürgen scouted along the river but returned empty-handed. The four of them spent a thoroughly boring hour in steadily colder drizzle.
"It is starting to freeze," Hans Heinrich said. "I no—I hear something." Both brothers reached for their swords.
"The boat is coming back from Naumburg," Jürgen told them.
After a couple minutes, Hans Heinrich spotted a shape moving up the riverbank. "Come on. See, he is going to avoid the villages again."
Lightning flashed in the western sky.
Jürgen started counting aloud. "One Unterweissbach. Two Unterweissbach. Three Unterweissbach . . ."
"What are you doing?" Hans Heinrich asked.
Jürgen had gotten to fifteen when there was a low rumble of thunder. "Fifteen Unterweissbachs between the lightning and thunder. Three thousand paces away."
"I am not looking forward to this," Hans Heinrich proclaimed.
"Armies get wet. Maybe you should stay home," Hans Friedrich suggested.
"I said I was not looking forward to it, not that I could not endure it. Jürgen, why do you think fifteen repetitions of some village's name between lightning and thunder means it is three thousand paces away?"
"I heard it in the tavern, on the radio," Jürgen said. "I do not understand how to figure it, but all I need to know is five Unterweissbachs to a thousand paces."
Before they'd gone another hundred yards, there was another flash of lightning. Jürgen placed it at two and a half thousand paces.
"If this gets any more exciting, we should all pray to St. Michael and promise to join an army if we survive," Hans Friedrich said whimsically.
The storm was moving quickly and they trudged onward, heads bent against the now-driving rain. After a while the rain slackened to a drizzle again, leaving them thoroughly soaked.
"This messenger must have taken word of what we nobles are thinking to Duke John George. The only question is whether it is von Trotha's own idea or if His Serene Grace asked him for the information," Hans Heinrich mused.
"I do not like these messages going back and forth," Hans Friedrich said.
"Me, either," his brother agreed. "It is as if Jürgen's ghosts really are walking around." He sighed. "I am afraid that one of us really is going to have to stay here and keep an eye on the area. Father is . . . frail. Whoever is here will run the estates with him. Georg Rudolf needs to return to Saxe-Altenburg to finance some of the changes to the estates that Father wants to make. And we have not heard from Christoph yet."
The two brothers looked at each other and pointed. "You," they said together.
"Von Arnim will vouch for me," Hans Friedrich said.
"That might not impress Gustav Adolf or Torstensson."
"I think Vitzthum will put in a good word for me, too," Hans Friedrich mused. "On the other hand, while you could get a recommendation from Duke Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar that might not help."
"I know it," Hans Heinrich groaned. After a few minutes, he ventured, "Father is one of Gustav Adolf's supporters."
"Well, yes," his brother agreed. "Gustav Adolf did stay in our townhouse in Erfurt on his way back from Alte Veste. That probably helps both of us."
"Christina is here," Hans Heinrich pointed out.
"A low blow," Hans Friedrich replied.
"You are courting her," his brother pointed out.
"Exactly." Hans Friedrich grinned. "If you leave me here, it will be wedding this and wedding that. You know how every woman seems to know every wedding custom coming out of Grantville. I would be of no use at all in keeping track of what is happening and certainly not in finding out who the duke's man in Naumburg is."
Hans Heinrich frowned. "Whereas since I am not betrothed I would have time to track down the whole plot? I believe your logic is flawed. Logically I should be looking for a wife."
Hans Friedrich suddenly became very serious. "You are more patient. And better with ruses."
"Hans Friedrich, we're going to have to handle this carefully. We need to protect Elisabeth."
"Agreed. We can probably keep Hauptmann Georg out of it . . . but his nephews?"
"Whichever of us joins the new army should take them with him," Hans Heinrich said. "Keep them out of trouble."
"Right. Because we were no trouble at all when we joined an army," his brother returned.
"There is that." Hans Heinrich had to agree. "At the same time we ought to warn the up-timers that we nobles here consider ourselves subjects of Duke John George. We have the townhouse in Erfurt and our Rabis, Schlöben, and Möckern estates near Jena. There are up-timers in both places."
"See, you are good at this," Hans Friedrich said.
Hans Heinrich sighed. "Fine. I will watch the storm from here," he said sourly.
"Danke. I owe you one," Hans Friedrich told him.
"Yes, you do."
****
It was a long, soggy night as they followed von Trotha's man all the way back to Balgstädt at a distance. He seemed quite oblivious. The von Hesslers and their men spent another hour in the rain making sure that he had left the stables. Reinhold yawned.
"You are not the only one who is tired," Hans Heinrich said. "Reinhold, Jürgen, you are both off tomorrow. Er, today. I am sorry we had to keep you up all night in a storm."
Jürgen waved it away. "I do not mind a bit of adventure, Euer Hochwohlgeboren."
Hans Heinrich smiled to himself. It was rare for Jürgen to use a formal title for adel. Perhaps they had proven themselves by riding all night through the rain.
Reinhold straightened up. "It is we who kept you out. As you say, this weather is not the big storm."
Something occurred to Hans Heinrich. "Reinhold, you knew the man we were following was von Trotha's man. But how did you know that?"
"I know him professionally, Herr von Hessler. He is a manservant, but when Herr Melchior Andreas von Trotha needs something sensitive done, he entrusts it to Richart. You see, he has the butler do it."
Tuesday, November 1, 1633
All Saints Day
Balgstädt, Saxony
Reinhold opened the door. Someone was already up, preparing Balgstädt for the day. The four of them walked in, wet and muddy, and startled the maid.
"Shhh, Maria," Hans Heinrich said quickly. "We were up early, checking for any storm damage."
"Herr Hans Heinrich, let me . . ."
"No, no. We will leave our coats and boots here and try not to track dirt on the floor. If you would have baths drawn for us?"
Maria bustled off to do so.
"Boys, where have you been?" Their father walked into the kitchen.
They quickly brought him up to date. He looked very concerned.
"Last night the other nobles started talking about a local defense force, loyal to John George, to keep order while we are under the tyranny of Thuringia."
"Father," Hans Heinrich said, "Hans Friedrich and I have been talking. We both want to serve in the army, but one of us needs to stay here. I, uh, I think I had better resign from Hessian service and see if I can get a position in this defense force."
Hans Heinrich the elder frowned. "That . . . might work. And you, Hans Friedrich?"
"Von Arnim would take me back, but I am not sure some of the other officers would trust me. But, Father, our best option for peace in Saxony is for the USE to win the war with the League of Ostend. I think I could do the most good in the USE Army."
"Hmm."
Just then Elisabeth von Hessler stepped into the room and surveyed the four of them who were dripping on her kitchen floor. She put both hands on her hips. Hans Heinrich recognized the signs. So did their father who quickly spoke up.
"The boys were out looking into something for me."
"Surely it could have been done in daylight so they could have avoided at least some of the mud."
Hans Heinrich had a sudden inspiration. "It is better to check the defenses by night," he said quietly. "The villagers would be alarmed if they saw us doing it. Elisabeth, we have no doubt that your husband has kept everything in order but you have heard some of the discussions. Some of them require reassurances, and it would have taken a whole day to decide who should go check the defenses. I am concerned that an enemy could push right up the Unstrut. Schloss Neuenburg could hold out for a while and protect Freyburg, but Balgstädt is the first good defensive position on the south bank."
"So you and Hans Friedrich were doing reconnaissance," Elisabeth said. "What? My husband is a hauptmann. I know what it is. And you dragged Reinhold and Jürgen along with you."
"Who else knows the area as well as they do?"
"Still. Reinhold is not young."
"Someone older and wiser had to go along," Hans Heinrich the elder grumped. "Otherwise these boys would be plotting to build entire fortresses on every hilltop."
Nice cover, Father, Hans Heinrich thought. Oh! You are more right than you know. If we had a trail on the hilltop, I could move artillery around.
"Gentlemen?" Samson von Burkersroda stuck his head into the kitchen. "We will be starting shortly."
Hans Heinrich and Hans Friedrich went to go get cleaned up.
"What do you want to tell everyone?" Hans Heinrich asked his brother. "Do you want to leave in a temper and tell them exactly how unwise they are? Or will you present yourself as our man inside the USE Army?"
"Oh, the first is very attractive," Hans Friedrich mused. "And I have no intention of doing the second. I have always fought to keep the war out of Saxony. At first it made sense to join the Imperials. Then Father convinced us that Gustav was our best chance. Nothing has changed that. The only thing that has changed is Duke John George. Again."
"It occurs to me that loyalty to Saxony is not the same thing as loyalty to John George," Hans Heinrich said slowly. "I believe we can blame the up-timers for bringing that distinction to our attention." He sighed. "Unfortunately, they seem to have a point."
"Ja. We should get downstairs," Hans Heinrich pointed out.
****
"Amen." They entered the room as Pastor Schieferdecker concluded his prayer, and the adel settled in for another day of discussions. Hans Friedrich grabbed a cup of broth.
"The pastor raises an important point," Wolf Friedrich von Trotha stated. He was another of Hauptmann Georg's older brothers. "Saxony must remain the bastion of orthodoxy. We cannot depend upon Gustav Adolf for that."
Hans Friedrich choked on the broth.
Hans Heinrich the younger looked on in alarm—not because he thought his brother was actually in danger of choking but because he feared that he would tell von Trotha just how ludicrous his statement really was.
Their father quickly spoke up. "I know we do not see eye to eye on Gustav Adolf, but no one has ever considered him anything but a completely orthodox Lutheran."
"But he is not suppressing the Catholics in Thuringia and Franconia."
"That is part of his original agreement with the up-timers. An agreement that everyone also agrees he has honored."
"Which just shows that his orthodoxy is questionable at best. If he will not fulfill his duties, we must guarantee the survival of Lutheranism in the Germanies."
Hans Heinrich the younger sat firmly on his temper. While it would no doubt be immensely satisfying to slap his brother-in-law's brother across the face, it would undermine everything his family was trying to accomplish.
"We must raise a force to oppose this tyranny!"
"I agree." Hans Heinrich spoke loudly enough to make sure he had everyone's attention. Then he stood. "I would like command of that force."
By the end of the day, he had their support.
But no sooner had everyone agreed to it than Melchior Andreas von Trotha demanded, "And what you going to do, Hans Friedrich? Will you stand and help your brother defend us?"
Hans Heinrich saw the fire burning in Hans Friedrich's eyes at Melchior von Trotha's challenge and fervently hoped his brother had his temper under control. Hans Friedrich slowly rose to his feet.
"Yes, I will. I propose we keep the fighting far from here. If the League of Ostend finally breaks through Gustav's forces, they will be far too weak to attack Saxony. I will join Torstensson's army and bleed the League. Hans Heinrich and Hauptmann Georg can finish them off if they get here. Who is with me?" Hans Friedrich's eyes flashed. "We will need seasoned junior officers before this is over. Friedrich Christoph, Friedrich Gebhard, are you with me?"
Nicely done, brother, Hans Heinrich thought. Take Wolf Friedrich and Melchior Andreas's sons with you and make their fathers rely on Hauptmann Georg and me.
"Wait just a min—"
Hans Heinrich drove over the objection. "The first thing I am going to need is artillery—heavy enough to keep any attackers from coming up the Unstrut but not so heavy that it looks like a threat to the railroad. Certainly Gustav Adolf will not allow us siege cannons, but that is not what I want. Six-pounders. Threes or fours if we must. And a special levy of tenants to cut a trail along the hilltops so that we can move the guns to where they are needed."
His distraction was entirely successful.
Wednesday, November 2, 1633
Balgstädt, Saxony
"Thank you, Georg," Hans Heinrich told his brother-in-law. "I really appreciate you acting as adjutant while I go to Hesse."
"I will try to keep everything in order until you return."
Hans Heinrich clapped him on the shoulder. "I am sure you will succeed."
"I will see you later, Elisabeth," Hans Friedrich promised. "And I will do my best to keep Friedrich Christoph and Friedrich Gebhard out of trouble."
"Do not make Reinhold work too hard," Elisabeth warned. "I cannot believe you insisted on taking him with you."
"Ha! It was entirely the other way around, I assure you," Hans Friedrich told her.
"Just make sure you both come back safely."
Hans Friedrich nodded. He had no intention of telling Elisabeth what Reinhold had actually said.
Reinhold was always neat and orderly, but when he had approached Hans Heinrich and Hans Friedrich, he had been impeccable. Standing ramrod straight, he said, "Euer Hochwohlgeboren, I would like to go with you." Unlike Jürgen, he habitually used the title High Well Born.
"Go with me where?" Hans Friedrich had asked.
"With the new army to stop the invaders," Reinhold said.
Only Reinhold's long service to the family kept Hans Friedrich from blurting out, "That is ridiculous."
"Why, Reinhold?" he asked instead.
"Because you need my help. The new army is taking everyone who wants to fight. Well and good, but they all want to be musketeers. The supply situation will be disorganized, and I can see to it that it remains orderly in your unit."
Hans Heinrich laughed. "He has a point," he told his brother. "You are going to need a wachtmeister of camp followers, and Reinhold can organize anything."
"But why should that be you, Reinhold?" Hans Friedrich asked. "You are needed here, with Father and Hans Heinrich."
"It is time for my son to gain some experience," Reinhold stated.
Hans Friedrich knew he was not the most perceptive man, but Reinhold had seemed about to say something more. "And?"
"My daughter and Jürgen have taken an interest in each other."
"Then perhaps I should take Jürgen with me," Hans Friedrich offered.
"Nein. I approve, although I wish they would wait eight or ten years," Reinhold said. "Nein, do not forbid it. I would not have them flee to Thuringia to do as they wish. But soon Thuringia will be here." He pointed at the floor and looked at Hans Heinrich. "More people will find out they have rights. You will have to adapt. You will need Jürgen here for what you intend to do." Then he looked at Hans Friedrich. "The new army is not mercenaries but the people defending themselves. It seems to me you ought to have some of the people along. It is our struggle more than yours."
"But why you? The other servants and the tenants listen to you . . ."
"Ja, they do. So I should be the first to find out if the new ways work."
Hans Friedrich tried not to think about where all that might be going as he said goodbye to his family. He really tried not thinking about it when he saw Reinhold saying goodbye not only to his family and Jürgen but to most of the other servants. He really succeeded in forgetting about it only when he was saying goodbye to Christina von Burkersroda.
Hans Friedrich von Hessler, the two younger von Trothas, and Reinhold of Klosterhäseler rode off toward Magdeburg to join the army. Hans Heinrich rode with them as far as Naumburg. There he turned south to make his way to Kassel and resign from the Hessian army.
****
A good number of the men of Kleinjena were gathered in the Bauses' front room. The harvest was in, and while there was still work to be done, the pace was relaxed enough to take a lunch break.
Johann idly watched five horsemen ride by. "I wonder what the adel is up to. A lot of nobles have been riding by."
"It does not matter to us," Stefan Berles stated.
"That is right," Gabriel Wenck agreed. "They have their business, and we have ours."
It is our business, Heinz Kraft thought to himself. "They have probably heard the same rumors we have."
"Ja, when nobles hear news, they talk," Berles said. "When we hear news, we keep working."
Heinrich took a sip of his small beer to hide a smile. What were they doing right now but talking?
"Do you think it is true?" Peter asked. "That we have been given to Thuringia?"
"As long as they leave us alone, I do not really care," Johann stated.
After some more idle speculation, Gerd Werner told them it was time to get back to work. Heinrich headed over to the blacksmith's where he and several others were making modifications to the cart the village used to take food to the market in Naumburg. Heinz was pretty sure they could find a way to keep sausages hot, and Stefan the mason and Friedrich the blacksmith were willing to humor him. Ursula Liebertin and some of the other women would pass judgment on the sausages when they were done.
By late afternoon, Stefan had a thin stone slab fitted in the back corner of the wagon and Friedrich had iron rods installed above it. Heinrich had helped cut away part of the back right side of the wagon and then reattach it using leather hinges. At least in theory they would be able to build a fire on stone, cook sausages on the irons, and unhinge a section of the side of the wagon to sweep out the coals. They built a fire and began cooking sausages. The women grudgingly pronounced the food a success.
"There is already some charring," Friedrich pointed out. "We are going to need stone on the sides, too."
"I cannot fix stone to the side that swings down," Stefan protested. "You will have to bolt a sheet of iron to it and double the number of hinges."
It took the whole next day and required some hook and eye latches in addition to the leather hinges, but on Saturday, Heinz, Helena, and several others took the food wagon to market in Naumburg.
Saturday, November 5, 1633
Naumburg, Saxony
The first test of the food wagon was a success. Heinz could already see that it was going to require periodic maintenance, but it definitely attracted attention while waiting for Naumburg to admit them to the market. Helena and the other women had baked rolls to put the sausages in. Heinrich grilled onions and added mustard.
"That was a success," Helena told him on the way home as they walked along behind the wagon. "What crops do you want to add next year?"
"I want to get the tomatoes right," Heinz answered, "so we can make ketchup."
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Author's Note:
All von Hessler, von Trotha, von Burkersroda, von Nissmitz, von Witzleben, von Breitenbauch, and von Hünecke characters in this story are historical, as are the von Hesslers' military careers up to the events of this story.
All characters in Kleinjena are invented, except for Pastor Christoph Laurentius, a historical figure who became a poet laureate of the Holy Roman Empire.
Pastor Christoph Schieferdecker and Hans Schösgen of Balgstädt are historical. Schösgen died in January, 1636—part of a group trying to pull down a bridge at a time when Baner's army was foraging in the Unstrut valley.
The debt owed by von Witzleben to the senior Hans Heinrich von Hessler is also historical. Von Witzleben lost a schloss in a card game, borrowed money from von Hessler and others to buy it back, and did not repay the note on time. Von Hessler took the schloss. After the matter was appealed to John George, the duke took custody of the schloss which finally made its way back to the von Witzleben family years later.
Gustav Adolf is said to have stayed at the von Hesslers' Erfurt townhouse on his way from Nürnberg to Lützen.
Ekkehard I, Margrave of Meissen, 985–1002, and his descendants had a fortification near the Unstrut, probably in Kleinjena but possibly in Grossjena. Grossjena is said to have been settled by Wends.
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