Eric Flint - 1634 - The Ram Rebellion

Scott Blackwell was not as unhappy as Steve. The knights and lords, collectively, could not put many men into the field. Few of them had the financial resources to hire more than a couple dozen professionals. Most were dependent upon calling out a levy of their own subjects, who largely refused to cooperate on the grounds that they had already sworn oaths of allegiance to the State of Thuringia-Franconia, against which their lords were rebelling.

“They’ll get hammered,” he said confidently. “You watch. My money’s on the farmers.”

Steve eyed him quizzically. “I take it you don’t propose to intervene militarily?”

Blackwell shrugged. “Oh, at some point, I imagine I will-here and there, anyway. But I think it’s all to the good to let those arrogant knights get the shit beat out of them. Better still, if it’s done by the local farmers instead of us.”

Steve understood the logic. He didn’t even disagree with it, although it rubbed all his well-honed civil servant instincts the wrong way. But, still…

Unhappily, he gazed down at the newspaper on his desk.

“Big headlines, huh?” said Scott cheerfully.

* * *

“You are not joking?” asked Captain Boetinger.

“No,” replied the lieutenant. “The city council invited a peasant delegation to come into the city. The delegation included a couple of the ram movement’s prominent leaders, including two men from the Gemeinde at Frankenwinheim. And then, no sooner were the gates closed, than they arrested the entire delegation.”

“They say they are going to deliver them, as rebellious and insubordinate subjects, each to his own lord, for a fitting and suitable punishment,” added the sergeant who had come into the headquarters with the lieutenant.

The captain of the USE/SoTF garrison at Gerolzhofen shook his head. “Amazing. Some people seem incapable of learning anything. Ah, well, so be it. Order out the garrison, Lt. Neidhart. We shall continue the educational process, as the Americans call it.”

His second-in-command nodded. “Vigorously?”

“Oh, very vigorously.”

The lieutenant hesitated a moment. “We did promise not to intervene in the city’s domestic affairs.”

“Indeed so. And we have kept the promise. But since the city council took it upon themselves to arrest people who were not citizens of Gerolzhofen, it is no longer a domestic matter.”

He bestowed a grin upon the lieutenant that did not bode well for someone. “I was given most explicit instructions by Colonel Blackwell, should such an event come to pass. Summon the garrison, Lieutenant.”

Less than a quarter of an hour later, the garrison marched out of the Zehnthof and headed for the Rathaus. The streets were noticeably deserted. The captain had expected some sort of opposition, given the intransigent nature of the city’s citizens. But, apparently, even the residents of Gerolzhofen had enough sense to realize that their city council had finally crossed a line.

The entire city council emerged from the Rathaus to meet the garrison, once it entered the city square. They looked nervous, but stubborn.

They had good reason to be nervous, the captain thought. And the stubbornness was handy. There would be no need to track them down.

“You are violating our agreement!” shouted once of the councilmen.

Captain Boetinger’s reply came in a tone of voice that was almost conversational.

“Shoot them,” he commanded.

* * *

“No,” said Scott Blackwell, “you can’t leave the bodies on display.”

Sourly, he stared up at the corpses of the city councilmen, suspended by ropes from the windows of the Rathaus. “You shouldn’t have done that in the first place. I don’t mean the shooting. That was okay, if maybe a little on the extreme side. But this…”

He grimaced. “Dammit, Friedrich, it’s uncivilized.”

Captain Boetinger shrugged. “Yes, true. But what part of We mean it did you think was ever going to remain civilized?”

Scott had no ready answer for that. “Still,” he insisted. “It’ll cause bad public relations. Have them taken down and their bodies delivered to their families.”

“As you wish,” said Boetinger. He walked off, mentally shaking his head. He rather liked the Americans, all things considered. If for no other reason, because they met the payroll on time. But there was no denying they were not sane, about many things.

Bad public relations. As if shooting dead the entire city council with no warning was likely to be popular!

And what difference did it make, in any event? Every citizen in Gerolzhofen might hate the USE and the State of Thuringia-Franconia with a passion. So what? Gerolzhofen’s days of being a thorn in everyone’s side had just come to a complete, total…

What was that American expression? Boetinger was charmed by the things.

Ah, yes. Screeching halt. He’d been particularly charmed by that one, after the up-timer Harry Lefferts had demonstrated it to him once, with an American motor vehicle.

Boetinger smiled thinly, thinking of Harry. He wondered what Harry was up to, these days. Boetinger had spent some time with Lefferts, when he’d visited Grantville. The two of them had gotten along very well.

Now there was an American fellow who’d have had no objection at all to stringing up corpses from windows.

* * *

The knights carried out several reprisals. In one case, on the estates of the von Bimbach family-the Catholic branch, near Bamberg-quite severe reprisals.

Blackwell did not order out the troops, however. First, because he didn’t have all that many. Secondly, because he was quite sure the ram was going to retaliate, and was willing to let the farmers do the dirty work. Finally, because he was compiling a list. At the very top of that list was the name “Fuchs von Bimbach.”

Before too long, he thought the list would come in handy. Especially after Noelle Murphy was able to add her findings, now that she’d gotten into the castle. In his own mind, the title of it was Rope to Hang Themselves By.

* * *

The city council of the imperial city of Nuernberg formally notified everyone it could think of, from Gustavus Adolphus and the Council of Princes down through the chain of command to the district administrators of the Aemter of Franconia, that it was seriously concerned about the situation, viewed it with considerable alarm, and would be compelled to take unspecified measures if the imperial knights and petty lords whose lands lay within Nuernberg’s hinterland became involved in the contention between those in Franconia and the administration there.

In short, the knights were put on notice. By one of the most important cities in the USE, and-the knights were gloomily certain-one of Gustav Adolf’s favorites. His great victory at the Alte Veste had been won within eyesight of Nuernberg, hadn’t it? With a great many of the city’s citizens in the ranks of his army-and none too many of the knights.

* * *

Margrave Christian spoke with representatives of the ram. And started accepting oaths, from market towns as well as from village people. On behalf of his nephews as well. Albrecht, of course, was still very young; Friedrich was in the north with Gustavus Adolphus’ army. So it was his responsibility.

The form of the oath was carefully negotiated between them. Quite carefully.

* * *

Several of the Protestant knights and lords whose lands lay primarily in Ansbach and Bayreuth, led by Freiherr Fuchs von Bimbach, came to the assistance of the branches of their families whose lands lay primarily in Bamberg and Wuerzburg.

* * *

April had arrived. Indeed, it was almost May.