Magdeburg
April, 1634
On my way out of church on that first Sunday in April, Deacon Buch approached me and said, "I need to see you at the Crowing Cock Tavern a bit before six o'clock this evening." Then he was gone before I could ask what was up.
I got to the tavern between five-thirty and six. Deacon Buch was surrounded by most of the men from our congregation. The only face I really missed was that of Klamm, our new pastor at what had been the Augustinian monastery. They filled every chair at the largest table, with more men standing around it. Buch was talking loudly about the Madmen of Münster and accusing all Anabaptists of behaving like those monsters. According to Buch, all Anabaptists were anarchists, antichrists, revolutionaries, polygamists, liars, thieves, Satan-worshipers, who spread plague and disease by poisoning wells. They were guilty of leading children astray, involving people in immorality while attacking the roots of Christianity by telling people that baptism does not save. According to Buch if it was foul and disgusting or if it had been in Pandora's box they embraced it.
"And we've got a nest of these disgusting snakes right here in Magdeburg!" Then he called out, "Bartender, another round for my friends here!"
"That shoemaker down by the Navy Yard is trying to blend in. But all he's doing is laying low, biding his time, waiting for the best time to strike. Those people never change. They are always troublemakers," Buch said. "We can't burn him out without catching the whole neighborhood on fire. But we can bust up his shop and tell him to get out of town and see to it that he knows we mean business.
"Having those people in town is just plain dangerous. For all of us. If God rains down fire and brimstone on them as he did on Sodom and Gomorrah, we'll be at risk. If he sends a plague to clean them out it is as likely to spread to the rest of us as a punishment for allowing them in town. I tell you the only safe thing, the only decent thing to do is chase them out of town before they start causing real problems and start preaching their filth and lies on the street corners. Before they mislead our youths and seduce our wives and daughters."
I don't know how long Buch had been carrying on, but the beer had been flowing freely and after I got there several other men arrived. I came to the realization that Buch had the hotheads get there early and didn't tell the level-headed fellows to come until six so they could not argue against what he was planning to do. And it was also clear to me why Pastor Klamm was not there. He would never have allowed Buch to do what he was planning, nor would his superiors. And from the cart out front full of cudgels and a seven-foot-long battering ram, it was clear that Buch had planned this from the beginning. By six o'clock he had his core group riled up and ready to go. The rest of us were swept up by the current and followed along in their wake.
Over a score of men followed him out the door. When I got outside Buch was handing out cudgels. When there were no more clubs to distribute, Buch yelled, "Come on, ye righteous men of God! In the name of Christian decency let us go do battle and clean out this nest of serpents for the safety of our wives and daughters and the wellbeing of our community!"
As we worked our way across town to the naval yard district, we picked up several stray men, so by the time we arrived, our numbers had doubled. I knew one of them. He was a Catholic I worked with.
"George," he said to me, "Good to see you here. I'm glad to see you Lutherans are doing something about the Anabaptists. We Catholics didn't dare with this being a Lutheran town. We were scared we'd get in trouble if we did. But since you fellows are doing it, then I guess it's alright for us to help out."
"Hans, I have my doubts about this whole thing. After all, the government says we have freedom of religion."
Hans looked at me. "But that means you can be whichever you want, Catholic, Lutheran, or Calvinist."
"Not, if they use the Grantville Model," I said. "In Grantville, they even tolerate people who claim they don't believe that there is a God at all. Just because a Lutheran deacon is heading this up doesn't mean that when the government gets involved, they are going to be at all happy with what is happening."
"Then what are you doing here?" Hans asked.
"I'm not sure I have an answer to that question," I responded.
The street the shoemaker's shop is on is long and straight and wide. Since it is outside the walls in the new section by the naval yard and in the new sections most of the streets were laid out arrow straight and wide enough for two-way coach traffic. Every other street had room left down the middle for a trolley to be added later. The houses are still three and four stories with shared common walls and no space between them. When we got there, Buch took his cudgel and started pounding on the closed front door of the ground floor workshop, yelling loudly for them to open up. The shutters on the second-story window opened, and a plainly dressed, balding man in black clothes leaned out.
"Go away, we do not work on the Sabbath! Come back tomorrow! We are not open on Sunday!"
Buch yelled, "You won't be here to be open tomorrow! If you're still in town tomorrow, you'll be in the graveyard if you can find one in town that will let you be buried!"
The window closed without a word.
"Grab the battering ram and let's get this door open," Buch ordered. The seven-foot log had three rope handles on each side. Six men had it to the door almost before Buch finished calling for it. Three swings, and the door flew open. The mob rushed into the workshop and started smashing things. Buch led some men up the stairs to the living quarters. But they found no one there. The family had a prepared escape route for just such an occasion as this.
Hans and I were standing in the street watching what was going on.
Hans spoke up. "Hey, Georg, it's time to go."
I looked at him, and then I looked where he was looking. Coming down the street was a gaggle of men with muskets. Not just muskets but flintlocks. I should know, being a gunsmith and having just fitted two score to receive bayonets . . . apparently for the CoC.
As we watched a whistle blew. "Form ranks!" a voice called out. The man wearing the whistle stepped forward. "Load rock salt and fix bayonets!"
At these words, Hans took off running. If I had been smart, I would have also.
Deacon Buch came running out of the shoemaker's shop. He approached the officer whose men had formed a line across the street with a second partial rank behind the first.
"What are you doing?" Buch demanded.
"Oddly enough," the officer said, "I have the same question for you."
"We're just cleaning out a nest of filthy Anabaptists. Who are you people?"
"I am Block Captain Schmitt of the Magdeburg Committee of Correspondence. And this is our second volunteer unit. We are returning from our regular monthly training exercise. Are you aware that the law in Magdeburg guarantees freedom of religion?"
"That doesn't apply to Anabaptists," Buch snarled.
"It applies to Jews. And they don't even claim to respect the teachings of Christ. It applies to everyone, even the Anabaptist heretics," Schmitt replied. Then he pulled a pistol from his belt.
"You filthy little pagan!" Buch yelled at the captain.
Schmitt was only little to the deacon who was a massive man, a head taller than most other people and twice as broad in the shoulders as I was. Schmitt held the pistol about head-high and pointed to the sky.
Deacon Buch swung at him with his cudgel. Schmitt shot the big man dead on the spot.
Schmitt yelled, "At the half step! Advance and clear the street!"
At that point, I did my level best to catch up with Hans.
Different reports do not agree on the numbers of dead. I am sure that Buch was shot. And at less than three feet away from the pistol's muzzle, there is no way that it didn't rip a hole the size of a man's fist in Buch's body.
With the bayonets advancing at the half step everyone else should have had time to run. As for the claims that the rioters killed over a score of the riflemen, well, that is just plain ridiculous. All it does is try to justify the men who were killed by the advancing bayonets.
Trained troops might have made their own advance if ordered. But the rioters were not trained men, and with Deacon Buch dead, there was no one to give such an order. Nor did anyone order them to flee—though any sane individual wouldn't have still been there. Everyone I saw was running for their lives. The point of advancing by the half step is to give people time to clear the street.
The claim that the Anabaptists were rioting and killing good Christian men is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life. Those people practice non-violence as a doctrine of their faith. The claim that the CoC shot down good, law-abiding Lutherans in the street is ludicrous. The captain had called for loading rock salt, which hurts like crazy but is almost impossible to be fatal. And they never fired. I would have heard it. Just the one shot from the officer when Deacon Buch swung at him with a cudgel.
The claim that half of the CoC were killed is even more ridiculous. Anyone listening to the conflicting claims that are being reported should be able to figure out that the report is just plain bogus. The CoC posted broadsheets, and their version got the details right.
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