The Grantville Gazette - Vol. 10 Part 17

"How wonderful!" William said. "Is this system of projection another of your inventions?"

"Oh, no. This was conceived by my beloved pupil, Benedetto Castelli."

I thought it best to demonstrate that I was not ignorant of Galileo's writings on this subject. "I have read of this device in yourHistory and Demonstrations Concerning Sunspots and their Phenomena ."

"Then you know that its importance is not just that it protects my eyesight, but also that it allows me to record, on this very paper, the exact locations of the spots. And I can make such records every day that the clouds permit me to see the sun.

"It was in this way that I determined that it took the sunspots a little more than fourteen days to traverse the entire solar disk. It follows that the sun revolves, and that the sunspots are on its surface."

We then turned the telescope toward terrestrial targets; the Convent of San Matteo where Galileo's daughter was a nun; the River Arno, and the great city ofFlorence . All too soon, it was time to retire inside.

"So, Mister Hobbes, we didn't really finish our discussion of motion. How do you intend to develop your thesis?"

"First, to show that sensation is the result of motion. The clapper has no sound in it, just motion, and it makes motion in the bell. The air has motion, but not sound. And the air causes motion in the brain, and it is that motion which we call hearing.

"In like manner, I will explain sight, and touch, and the feeling of the heat of a fire."

"Interesting," Galileo said. "You will, of course, want to devise experiments to prove your point."

Experiments, bah. But one must be polite, so I didn't pick a fight. "Ultimately, my goal is to extend the theory of motion to the actions of men upon each other, that which we call politics."

"Ah, politics. I have gotten into enough trouble discussing religion, I cannot afford to talk about politics as well."

At that point, La Piera came into the salon. "Dottore, why aren't you in bed?"

"I feel fine."

"Have you forgotten? The duke's physicians are supposed to be here within the hour. So that they can examine you, and attest that you are too sick to travel toRome to appear before the Inquisition."

Galileo winced. "Excuse me, gentlemen, I must bury myself under the covers, and you had best be going.

The duke is on my side, but appearances must be maintained." Galileo disappeared into his bedchamber, and let off a trial moan or two.

As we filed out the door, we could hear Galileo calling, "Where is my hot water bottle?"

We rode back toFlorence , and decided to have our supper out on the veranda.

"So, Mister Hobbes, are you going to do those experiments? Can I help?"

"William, William," I said. "There is more than one path to knowledge. Experimentation is a last resort, to be adopted when one cannot reach a conclusion by pure reason. It is better to proceed, wherever possible, by geometrical constructions.

"Have I told you about poor Francis Bacon?"

"No, Mister Hobbes."

"I was his private secretary before I joined the Cavendish household. I took dictation, helped him translate his vernacular writings into Latin, and so forth. Besides being Chancellor, he was a great experimenter.

"Well, in 1626, I think it was in March, he was riding in a coach, and suddenly he decided that it was a good time, the weather being so cold, to test his theory that cold would delay the decomposition of flesh.

'Stop the coach,' cried he, when it entered one of the market squares. Out he hopped, and bought a chicken. Then, still a-shiver, he cut it open and stuffed it with snow. And do you know what happened?"

I didn't wait for William to answer. "He developed a bad cough, took to his bed, and died."

William sat in silence for a moment. "Whether Bacon had died or not, his experiment still settled the issue, didn't it? And would Galileo have discovered the moons of Jupiter, or the phases of Venus, by pure reason?" He looked at me expectantly.

"And look where Galileo is now-hiding under his covers, in the hope that the Inquisition will relent and leave him in peace," I replied.

"Would you like some more chicken?"

William went up to his room to do his lessons, and Geoffrey sat down beside me.

"English fellow was talking to us. Us servants, I mean."

"Are you sure he was English?"

"Spoke like a native, sir."

"And what did we want to know?"

"Who the young lord was, and why was he inFlorence , and where else was he going. And 'may I buy you fine lads a drink?'"

It was customary for the British consuls in foreign cities to keep tabs on the movements of English n.o.bleman. Not as much as it had been in the days of Queen Elizabeth, but not unheard of even today.

And I had reason to think that King Charles might have sent instructions to step up such surveillance.

"And what did you fine lads tell him?"

"Oh, it's just a sightseeing trip, entertainment for the idle rich, under the guise of education."

"And that was all?"

"No. When we said that we were going toGermany , he asked if we had ever heard of a place called Grantville. InThuringia . No, I said, we were going toGermany , all right, but just to visit a few towns and then come home by way ofHamburg ."

"And do you think he believed you?"

"Well, I did let on that I thought that you, begging your pardon, Mister Hobbes, had a sweetie in Nurnberg, and that we were swinging through the Germanies so that you could have a rendezvous at your employer's expense."

"Is that so?" I didn't know whether to be aghast at his presumption or delighted by his ingenuity.

"I kinda thought that if they were looking for a baser motive than education, it was best to volunteer one that wasn't, uh, political. There's all sorts of talk about Grantville, y'know."

"All sorts. Thank you, Geoffrey." And I tipped him heavily, of course.

Papal Statesborder post January, 1633 Although the marriage of King Charles to the Catholic Henrietta Maria in 1625 had considerably eased relations betweenEngland and theVatican , the inquisitors were still capricious in their examination of Englishmen.

Consequently, I gave William and the servants a severe lecture before we saddled up for the ride toRome . "Don't argue about religion; in particular, do not defend the Church of England, the Lutherans, or the Calvinists."

As I said this, I kept my eye on Samuel. Back home, he was always railing about papist this and papist that. Right on cue, he protested my instruction.

"But sir, it is one thing not to start an argument about religion, but must I feign allegiance to the Harlot of Rome?"

I put him in his place, of course. "I expect you to protect the interests of your master, the earl. Don't pretend to be a Roman Catholic unless it is absolutely necessary to avoid arrest, but don't say anything in favor of the Anglican Church. Or any other faith.

"Oh, and don't give scandal in their churches. If you cannot bear the idolatry, remain outside."

Of course, it was easy for me to give such advice. My views of G.o.d and religion would give offense to everyone.

Despite my little precaution, I couldn't help but be nervous when, at the border, we were summoned before the local office of the Inquisition. After all, we were Protestants in the heartland of Catholicism.

"Next!" said the sergeant.

The Dominican friar, the representative of the Inquisition at this border post, closely examined us.

Dressed in black, he looked like a large crow. One with a case of dyspepsia.

"What is your country?"

I answered for the entire party. "England."

"What are the names and stations of all of the members of your party?"

"This is William Cavendish, Earl of Devonshire and Baron of Hardwicke." Always good to let the inquisitors know that they are dealing with someone of high rank. "I am his tutor, Mister Thomas Hobbes, a graduate ofOxford . We are accompanied by his servants, Patrick McDonnell, Samuel Brown, and Geoffrey Watson."

"Are you all Christians?"

"Yes."

"Are you all Catholics?"

"Yes." It was an honest answer, since we Anglicans considered ourselves to be thetrue Catholics. I had warned our little company to expect this question, and my stock reply. I warned Samuel twice.

"What is your business inRome ?"

"To see the sights."

"Where are you going after you are finished inRome ?"

"Naples, to seeMount Vesuvius ."

"Are you carrying any books which are on theIndex Librorum Prohibitorum ?"

"No, Holy Father."

The inquisitor conferred with the sergeant. "You are free to go."

Rome February, 1633 William lunged, delivering the coup de grace to a phantom opponent.

I shook my head. "Lord Devonshire. Have you been keeping your journal up-to-date?"

William shook his head like a man trying to rouse himself from sleep. "My journal?"

"You heard me, Milord. Your lady mother expects to see proof that you have been observant. As I have told you before, you must record the history, geography, climate, wildlife, trade, agriculture, minerals, food, clothing, customs, art, laws, politics, and fortifications of each land we pa.s.s through."

William gave me a sheepish look. "Not since we leftFlorence ."

"I have to go out and run some errands. This would be a good time to set down in your journal a description of what you have seen inRome so far. You may go outside once you are done, but don't go alone."

I returned to our apartment and found cla.s.sical bric-a-brac all over the place. Vases, bronzes, tablets, and busts galore. There was barely room to walk without tripping over an ancient Roman or two.

"Look what I bought!" William chortled.

"I am looking."

"I went off to the old Forum. It's market day there, and as I was walking about, I ran into this Englishman. We got to talking, I told him who I was, and he said that he had been a friend of my father, G.o.d rest his soul.

"Well, it turned out that his guide, this Italian fellow, was from this old family, that could trace its descent all the way back to old Julius Caesar, and they had all this old Roman stuff that had been in their family for generations. And because I was a fellow Englishman, and because he knew my father, they were willing to let me in on the chance to buy it!"

"How extraordinarily generous of them," I said. I wondered whether any of the sculptures were more than a year old; they had been somewhat indifferently "aged."

"Patrick, Geoffrey, you were supposed to keep his lordship out of trouble."

"There was no trouble, sir, no trouble at all. Lord's expected to shop when he's in foreign parts."

"What's wrong?" William said.

"Lord Devonshire, how many splinters of the True Cross are there?"

William blinked. "I don't know. A hundred?"

"Judging from the number which have been sold, enough for a thousand crosses!" I shook my head.

"Lord Devonshire, you have great wealth and people will try to take advantage of you. Here inRome , they have been manufacturing fakes for over a thousand years."

"So these aren't real?" William's lips quivered.

I took pity on him. A little bit. "Well, some may be good copies of the real thing. I would have to look at them more closely."