1634: The Ram Rebellion (assiti shards)

by Eric Flint

  The oil in the lamp wouldn’t last much longer.

  Ableidinger hadn’t been that surprised by the fable. In other issues of the weekly newspaper for farmers, the up-timers had published paragraphs of political philosophy. Sayings. Maxims. He had copied out some of them, from John Locke, from Benjamin Franklin, from Thomas Jefferson.

  But those authors were Englishmen, and they had written then, not now. If he understood properly what this Grantville city signified, they had written in a “then” that now would never happen. In a future that never would be.

  The Bible provided comfort for all tribulations. “With God, all things are possible.”

  Thus, a city from the future, too, was possible.

  Not that Pastor Schaeffer would be likely to see it that way.

  Ableidinger had been a little surprised by the fable. The other authors had written “then.” Not to mention “there.” Brillo was, most certainly, here and now. An ordinary German ram.

  Ableidinger opened Common Sense. He would make the most of this evening’s ration of oil. He didn’t have much time for reading in the daylight in winter. That was when most of his pupils spent most of their days at school, so he had to teach the lessons.

  That was his job. Teaching. Not thinking about political philosophy.

  * * *

  Then and now. There and here. Thomas Paine. “The cause of America is in a great measure the cause of all mankind.” How local circumstances could give rise to universal principles. “The laying a Country desolate with Fire and Sword, declaring War against the natural rights of all Mankind, and extirpating the Defenders thereof from the Face of the Earth, is the Concern of every Man to whom Nature hath given the Power of feeling; . . .”

  Ableidinger frowned to himself. Looking up, he frowned at his pupils, directing the older ones back to doing simple addition on their slates.

  Did the up-timers who would be administering Franconia agree with Paine?

  If so, why were they working for the king of Sweden?

  If not, why had they published this pamphlet in German?

  He continued reading, fascinated by the distinction that Paine made between society and government, the first produced by men’s wants and promoting their happiness; the second produced by men’s wickedness and restraining their vices. Society was a blessing; government a necessary evil. “The one encourages intercourse, the other creates distinctions. The first is a patron, the last a punisher.”

  Hey, this was a good one! “ . . .the palaces of kings are built upon the ruins of the bowers of paradise.”

  For were the impulses of conscience clear, uniform and irresistibly obeyed, man would need no other lawgiver; but that not being the case, he finds it necessary to surrender up a part of his property to furnish means for the protection of the rest; and this he is induced to do by the same prudence which in every other case advises him, out of two evils to choose the least. Wherefore, security being the true design and end of government, it unanswerably follows that whatever form thereof appears most likely to ensure it to us, with the least expense and greatest benefit, is preferable to all others.

  Ableidinger was very happy to discover that the new administration-or, at least, the men who had founded the country from which the new administrators came-had a clear and distinct picture in their minds of the way a village ought to work. Whether or not it did, of course, was another question.

  Looking up at the children, he told them to stop working and listen while he read to them.

  None of them objected.

  He read through Paine’s description of a small number of persons, settling a new land and, in a condition of “natural liberty,” establishing a society by cooperating with one another.

  “A thousand motives will excite them thereto . . .”

  He assigned the older children the task of thinking of just ten of those motives for establishing a society in the wilderness. Each of them should talk with his or her parents and bring the list to school the next day. They would combine all the lists and then compare them to the reasons that Thomas Paine gave for this action.

  They did combine the lists. Then he had each child copy Paine’s reasons and take them home to their parents.

  The pastor, when he heard about this assignment, was not pleased. He said so to the mayor.

  “Surely,” Old Kaethe asked, “you would not deny that God’s children should endeavor to assist one another? Charity is a virtue.”

  “When you put it that way . . .” Schaeffer turned and went back to his house.

  At the school, Ableidinger was still proceeding through Common Sense. Once Paine’s hypothetical emigrants had established a society, because they began to “relax in their duty and attachment to each other,” they reached a point at which “this remissness will point out the necessity of establishing some form of government to supply the defect of moral virtue.”

  Ah. How remarkable! A lot of what Paine wrote was specific to the circumstances of England and England’s handling of its colonies in America. That was specific to time and place. Ableidinger skipped over this in school. It wasn’t something the children really needed to learn, and he did have to find time for the regular lessons. England was far away and every educated man in the Germanies knew that the place was terribly backwards. Besides, if Thomas Paine had believed that the “English constitution” was complex, one could only assume that he had never made a study of the Holy Roman Empire.

  Some things, though, were worth emphasizing. Paine even knew of the ancient custom of the villages in many parts of the Germanies according to which the council met under a tree.

  Some convenient tree will afford them a State House, under the branches of which the whole Colony may assemble to deliberate on public matters. It is more than probable that their first laws will have the title only of Regulations and be enforced by no other penalty than public disesteem. In this first parliament every man by natural right will have a seat.

  Paine didn’t seem to realize that it ought to be a linden tree. But then, there was a limit to what one could expect of foreigners. Perhaps there were no lindens in England or this far-away America.

  As Ableidinger taught Paine to his students, he started sending out circular letters to the teachers in other villages in the vicinity urging them to obtain their own copies of the pamphlet and helpfully enclosing the lesson plans he was developing for teaching it.

  The most complicated one dealt with the increase in size of the imaginary colony, which required that village-style government be supplemented by a system of elected representatives.

  Here then is the origin and rise of government; namely, a mode rendered necessary by the inability of moral virtue to govern the world; here too is the design and end of government, viz. Freedom and security. And however our eyes may be dazzled with show, or our ears deceived by sound; however prejudice may warp our wills, or interest darken our understanding, the simple voice of nature and reason will say, ‘tis right.

  The “simple voice of nature and reason.”

  Der gesunde Menschenverstand. Common Sense.

  Even in those sections specific to England, there were some good diagnoses of the general problems and occasional sentences from which general principles could be derived.

  Ableidinger found Paine’s analysis of scriptural principles to be not only excellent, but also quite in keeping with many of the assertions made at the time of the Peasant War in 1525-the one in which the farmers’ hope for liberty had been so betrayed by the leaders of the new Reformation. He looked at the piece of paper on the table in front of him. Yes, Lutheran though he was himself, he would write it. In this matter, Luther had betrayed the Germans’ hopes for greater liberty.

  Government by kings was first introduced into the world by the Heathens, from whom the children of Israel copied the custom. It was the most prosperous invention the Devil ever set on foot for the promotion of idolatry. The Heathens paid divine honours to their deceased kings, and the Chr
istian World hath improved on the plan by doing the same to their living ones. How impious is the title of sacred Majesty applied to a worm, who in the midst of his splendor is crumbling into dust!

  Ableidinger laughed out loud. After what Franconia had suffered from the invasion of the Swede and his allies, he could only agree with Paine’s statement that, “Absolute governments, (tho’ the disgrace of human nature) have this advantage with them, they are simple; if the people suffer, they know the head from which their suffering springs; know likewise the remedy; and are not bewildered by a variety of causes and cures.”

  January 1633: Frankenwinheim, Franconia

  The agricultural newspapers and pamphlets kept coming. Almost every weekly edition of Die Wochentliche Bauernzeitung had a new Brillo story. It was worth sending Tobias to get the new issue every week.

  Ableidinger read every Brillo story out loud in the tavern. According to what Tobias heard, there were many villages in Franconia in which someone read the Brillo story out loud every week. He was getting a lot of replies to his circular letters. It was breaking his budget to pay the postage when they arrived.

  Other villages were also reading Common Sense. A printer in Bamberg sent a letter requesting the right to print an edition of a thousand copies of Ableidinger’s abbreviated version with annotations for teaching its principles in village schools.

  “There’s time,” he said to Rudolph Vulpius. “It won’t hurt the children to miss school for just a few days, no matter what Pastor Schaeffer says. I need to go to Bamberg.”

  “Need?” Vulpius gave him the kind of look Ableidinger was accustomed to giving his own pupils.

  “Well . . . I want to meet the printer who will be publishing my pamphlet. That’s important. I want to get some idea of how many other pamphlets and books are being published, better than I can from here. I can walk down with Tobias, if you will just put on your other hat as the head of the parish’s board of elders and get me permission to go.”

  “That’s important,” Old Kaethe said, “but it’s not the most important thing. Rudolph should go with you. A couple of other men with him, and a few men from other villages around. We’re on the edge of things, here. We need to just look at these up-timers, these men from Grantville.”

  “We?” the mayor asked.

  “I did think,” she said, “that I might come along. See what kind of Germans they have surrounded themselves with. See how they are doing things in more important towns and places.”

  Vulpius nodded. “Watch them. For the time will come, perhaps, when we have to test them. You read their words, Constantin. Think, though. It’s going to be more important for us to find out if their actions match their words.”

  * * *

  So, not long after Christmas, they went to Bamberg, to the press of Frau Else Kronacher. She did, as promised, pay Ableidinger for his manuscript. Not that she had any obligation to pay him, she pointed out, but the convenience of working from it all at once rather than chasing around Franconia after copies of his various circular letters and piecing them together in the proper order for her daughter Martha to set in type made it worth her while.

  Of course, the woman hadn’t lost much. Ableidinger turned around and spent half of the money on other books and pamphlets that her press had published. He spent most of the rest of it on warm clothing for Matthias and treats to give his pupils on the festival of Three Kings. Some, however, he reserved for future postage.

  * * *

  “What did you think?” Old Kaethe stomped her cold feet on the ground. The weather was worse on the way home than it had been when they left Frankenwinheim.

  Ableidinger pulled the collar of his cloak up. “Paine was certainly an optimist when he wrote, ‘I draw my idea of the form of government from a principle in nature which no art can overturn, viz. that the more simple any thing is, the less liable it is to be disordered, and the easier repaired when disordered.’ Still . . . If the up-timers can simplify the system under which we poor Germans have to live . . .”

  Kaethe frowned. “Why do the up-timers have to do it? Why can’t the Germans do it themselves? Like the ram?”

  Ableidinger smiled. In spite of the weather, he had never been so happy in midwinter. Most years, midwinter was glum. Grim. Most years, he spent hours praying for the solstice to come, that the turn of the season might start to bring more light to his day. But he had been so busy that he scarcely noticed the passing of the shortest day of the year.

  “According to their principles, if the people of Franconia set out to simplify their government, the up-timers should be obliged to refrain from interfering with the process.”

  Vulpius nodded. “It would, after all, be expensive for them to interfere. Interference means soldiers. Soldiers cost money.”

  “They certainly cost a lot more money than circular letters and pamphlets,” Tobias said.

  Ableidinger agreed. Not that postage was cheap. Common sense all by itself reminded a person of that.

  The Suhl Incident

  Eric Flint and John Zeek

  January 13, 1633

  Warrant Officer Hatfield was using a lever to hold the engine steady while Private First Class Cooper bolted it to the motor mounts when he saw Captain Pitre walk into the shop. Turning to Cooper’s assistant, who was nearby, he said, “Filss, take over here and hold this steady. It looks like the captain wants to talk to me.”

  “Good morning Ma’am,” he said, as he walked to meet the captain. “The second locomotive is looking good. All we have left to do is set up the controls and fit the wheels and it’ll be ready to test. Close to one hundred horse power and a ton heavier, it should out-pull number one by a goodly margin. Private Cooper here is a wonder as a mechanic. He does good work, and is just full of ideas.”

  “That’s great, Mr. Hatfield. Your engine shop boys are doing an excellent job.” Captain Pitre responded loudly enough so that the entire shop could hear. Then in a lower voice she added, “But the reason I stopped by was because General Kagg sent word he wants to see you and me this morning.”

  The New United States was now part of the Confederated Principalities of Europe, with the Swedish king, Gustavus Adolphus, recognized as its official military leader under his title of Captain General. After lengthy negotiations, President Stearns had agreed that Gustavus Adolphus could station one regiment-one, no more-in or near Grantville. The regiment he sent was one of his oldest “first guard regiments.” It was known as the Yellow Regiment, and while most of its soldiers and officers were mercenaries, usually Germans-as was true of the Swedish king’s army as a whole-the commanding officer was a Swedish general, Lars Kagg.

  As the two trudged through the snow, Hatfield wondered what Kagg wanted. He decided it couldn’t be about anything the train crew had done wrong. They all, even Jochen Rau, had been on their best behavior lately. And Kagg had been very polite at the reception for his arrival last month.

  Then the thought hit him that it might be about what Henry Johnson told him only this morning. General Jackson had wanted Pat, Anse’s brother-in-law, to watch for any movement of guns out of Suhl to people who were unfriendly to the CPE. Maybe a letter from Pat had arrived.

  “Ma’am, did the general say why he wanted to see us?”

  “No, but he did ask if you were doing anything really vital. I told him your crew could probably keep working for a while without you. You’ve done a good job of training them.”

  “Thank you for the compliment. You’re right, Ma’am. Benno and Jochen can run the train without me and I would bet Cooper can finish this new engine. Bringing in Bill Frank as an advisor was a great idea. But I hope General Kagg doesn’t want you to send me anywhere. The company might get called for active duty shortly, and I sure don’t want it to go without me. You’ll need me for that.”

  Captain Pitre gave her surroundings a somewhat sour examination. “Mr. Hatfield, from the look of things, we’re not going anywhere until winter’s over. Except to the regimental he
adquarters, and here we are.”

  * * *

  Through the closed door of the office Anse could hear the rumble of the general’s voice. That was no surprise. Kagg seemed to have only one volume setting, loud. Anse looked out the window to the outside. “Ma’am, was anyone else going to be at our meeting with the general?”

  “Not that I know of. Why, does it make a difference?”

  “Not to me, but, stay calm. Your friend and mine, Captain von Dantz, is walking across the parade ground. And it looks like he’s coming here.”

  Anse could sense the sudden stiffness in Captain Pitre. That von Dantz was both arrogant and incompetent was an opinion, he was sure, the two shared. The fact that von Dantz refused to accept the idea of women in the army, much less a woman officer, automatically insured there were going to be problems between him and Captain Elizabeth Pitre. Anse’s problems with the Pomeranian mercenary captain were more personal and had arisen out of a dispute over the captain’s baggage being crushed on the train Anse had commanded.

  Luckily the door to Kagg’s office opened just as von Dantz entered the building. As the general’s clerk came out the door they could see Kagg himself, who was walking toward the door, waving his hand for them to come in.

  “Captain Pitre, Herr Hatfield, come in. It is good of you to make time to see me.”

  Kagg’s English, though heavily accented, was fluent. Anse was pretty sure that was one of the reasons he’d been sent him to Grantville. The Swedish general also seemed to be punctilious about courtesy. Whether that was due to his own personality or blunt orders from Gustavus Adolphus, Anse didn’t know. Probably both, he suspected.

  The general spotted von Dantz coming through the outer office. “Come in, all of you. Captain von Dantz, you know Captain Pitre and Warrant Officer Hatfield. Captain Pitre, Herr Hatfield, I know you have met Captain von Dantz.”