The Ram Rebellion(118)

"I don't want to give it to you second-hand, Vince," Cliff Priest said. "I've brought Walt and Matt along with me. They're out in the reception room and I'd rather have them run through it themselves."





Which they did, after Vince invited them into his office. Although they had learned a few more things in the past three days.





"There used to be even more castles," Walt said. "A hundred years or so ago, the farmers had a big revolt and burned almost all of them down. One of the biggest penalties that was put on them was that after the lords put the revolution down, the farmers had to pay for building them back. Or a lot of them; some never were rebuilt."





"You know," Vince said musingly. "If they burn them down again . . . I don't think we'll do that, guys. I'm not sure that we could prohibit the owners from rebuilding. But at least for the ones under our jurisdiction, we can keep them from making anyone else pay the bill."





"One thing we could try," John Kacere suggested, "is putting our regional administration for the northern sector in Teuschnitz. The castle there was burned last year, so we can get in. There's a good-sized city hall. When the militant inhabitants of Kronach see that they're missing out on the money that comes with people coming to do business at the courthouse, they might—might, mind you—open their gates."





"And if they don't?" Vince Marcantonio asked.





"We'll think again."





"We could try publicizing voter registration, too," Bennett Norris added. "If staying locked up inside the walls means that they don't get to vote . . . Yeah, okay guys, I know it's a bit lame, but we might as well try anything in a pinch."





"Is there any way we can do the same to Forchheim? Appoint some other town as the regional administration headquarters, that is?"





"Yeah. Let me think which one," Vince answered. "The real problem, though, is that it's sitting right square across the main road from Nürnberg to Leipzig—the trade route. It was a big problem for Gustavus Adolphus last year, when he was trying to get supplies down to Nürnberg for the battle at the Alte Veste."





"Move the road." That was John Kacere's suggestion again. He was the economic liaison, after all. "If there's anything that the U.S. in the twentieth century figured out, it was how to make a town wither and die. Think how many small towns uptime were ruined economically when an interstate went in a few miles away and took the traffic off the old highway that went along the main street. Advertise to the residents what we're doing. They may be less enthusiastic about supporting the remains of the imperial garrison, once they hear the news."





Eggolsheim, March, 1633




The mayor of Eggolsheim was not certain that he was happy. The mayor of Neuses was certain that he was unhappy. This idea was going to mean nothing but trouble. Just because there was a ferry across the Regnitz at Neuses, the administration installed in Bamberg by the king of Sweden had decided that their little villages were to be combined, turned into a town and administrative headquarters for all of southern Bamberg, and outfitted with the appropriate amenities.





This was going to upset accustomed routine. Not, of course, that accustomed routine had not been upset for most of the past several years.





However. The Forchheimer were not going to like this idea. And the people of Forchheim, when they did not like things, had a tendency to march out in force and burn down neighboring towns.





Of which Eggolsheim and Neuses were two.





The uptimer, a man named Walter Miller, said that they would be protected.





For what it was worth. There was an imperial garrison in Forchheim.





Forchheim, April, 1633




Colonel Fritz von Schletz, Imperial-Bavarian forces, commander of the garrison, stood on the parapet walk that went around the walls of Forchheim. Nice, strong, walls. The bishops of Bamberg had started rebuilding the citadel about eighty years ago, after the feud with the margrave of Bayreuth. It wasn't finished yet, but it was good enough, in his professional judgment, to withstand any attack that the Swedes could likely bring against it. The two Italian-style bastions that protected the prince-bishop's palace were in particularly good shape. The walls varied from ten to fourteen yards high; the moat was up to thirty yards wide and had an iron barrier across the river on the north side of town so enemies could not enter through the waterway. On the outside of the moat, there were four-foot walls and a glacis. There were inner walls inside the citadel, with earthworks. The casements were pretty good. It would be a tough nut to crack. Overall, he was glad that he was on the inside looking out.