The Grantville Gazette - Vol 3 Part 17

Historical Notes

The Pickerel pub is still a pub today and claims to be the oldest pub inCambridge , although I have naturally invented its landlord in 1632. All the academic characters are real and in OTL Dunster went on to be the first president of Harvard. (http://www.president.harvard.edu/history/) I have, however, taken the liberty to modify the status of Abell, who was just a pensioner, and invent a background for him. He did share lodgings with Healey and Gunton and in our timelime was the cause of a vicious internal college fight, which ended up pitting Smith vs Smyth, by hinting that both they and the college fellows were Arminians.

The famous Thomas Hobson died sometime in 1630 or 1631, but we know he had at least one son since he left a manor and estate in nearby Cottenham to his grandson and heir, also called Thomas Hobson (d. 1667). I have a.s.sumed that the intermediate son was alive in the 1630s, running the business and called Thomas, but have been unable to confirm any of these a.s.sumptions.

Dame Joan Jermy and the other townspeople mentioned are also real.Reading between the rather spa.r.s.e lines, Dame Joan appears to have been a tough and determined widow by 1633 (and was indeed involved in a legal dispute).

Much of this story is based on the researches of Madgalene's current generation of historians, particularly those of Dr Duffy and Dr Hoyle and the official Magdalene College History to which they contributed. (http://www.magd.cam.ac.uk/about/history/past.html )

The third collect at matins is taken directly from http://justus.anglican.org/resources/bcp/1559/MP_1559.htm

h.e.l.l Fighters By Wood Hughes

I: TheMission

The monastery of Subiaco: Home of the Order of St. Benedict.

"Brother Johann? The Fathers are ready."

Brother Johann closed the small book he was studying and rose, straightening his black robe. While he had been aware of the gathering of Abbots, he had no idea why the a.s.sembled Abbots of the Order ofSt. Benedict in the region had summoned him to their chambers. He followed Brother Mark into the meeting hall, which was carved out of the living rock cliff that the Monastery was built out of. As he entered, he recognized the five Abbots and Arch Abbots. Each represented congregations of Benedictine monasteries fromRome in the south to the Bursfeld Union inGermany and had traveled to Subiaco to consult on the current crisis facing the Faithful. Also seated at the table was Dean Bernard, of his home Monastery of Fulda.

"Thank you for coming, Brother," Cardinal Subiaco, the host for this congregation, began. "Please be seated. The Order has been blessed by the wonderful work you've done in the six years since the Lord called you here to tend to our archives and the St. Scholastica Library. However, Dean Bernard has brought us most disturbing news from Johann Bernhard, Abbot Prince ofFulda . We thought it may very well provide a most important calling for you and your skills."

Cardinal Subiaco nodded to Dean Bernard, who began, "It's wonderful to see you again, Brother. It's been too long since we've broken bread inFranconia . Johann, have you been following the news from our home?"

Brother Johann pressed his gla.s.ses back into place and squinted. "Not really, Bernard. I have noted in some of the recent reports the reversals in the campaigns to re-establish theHolyChurch in the area. Of course I am aware that the Monastery atFulda itself is now under control of the Swedes."

"Not quite the Swedes, at least not directly."Dean Bernard pulled out a small book and pa.s.sed it over to Brother Johann.

The book was of a construction that Johann had not seen before. It was of cloth, worn but smooth, wrapped around some sort of hard material. The backing had silver printing in what Johann a.s.sumed was English. It read:Western Civilization . He turned the book in his hands and felt the smoothness of the edges of the pages between their covers, and noticed a slight gleam that he had not noticed on the thousands of books he had handled in his life. Pressing his gla.s.ses back into position, Johann then carefully opened the front cover and felt the glossy paper of which the book was printed. Casting a quick glance of disbelief at Dean Bernard, he thumbed through the book. Then such an incredible sight met his eyes that his mouth fell open and he instinctively crossed himself.

There on the page was an engraving unlike anything he had ever imagined. The colors were so vivid and the engraving was so fine that he thought momentarily that the people pictured there would begin to move at any moment. Johann had seen the finest illuminations that the Order of Saint Benedict had collected in the nine centuries sinceits founding, but nothing to rival this!

As he turned the pages, Johann noted ill.u.s.trations, engravings, and actual paintings of people, places, and the most incredible artifacts that he could imagine. Even the clothing on those in the engravings changed from the familiar to more and more bizarre as he flipped rapidly through this incredible book.

"Dean Bernard, where did this come from? It is... most unusual."

"Most unusual indeed, Brother.It came from a city in theSaaleRiverValley . While filing away your monastic reports, have you come across any references to a 'Grantville'?"

"As you may recall," Johann responded in a puzzled tone, "I was born in theSaaleRiverValley just west of Schwarza. I recall no village or town by such a name."

"That is our problem, Brother," Arch Abbott Monte Ca.s.sino, who represented the monasteries of the Congregation of St. Justina ofPadua , broke in as he leaned forward. "Until some months ago, therewas no Grantville in theSaaleRiverValley , or anywhere else in G.o.d's Creation. It appeared there, full blown, along with people and inventions and artifacts which no one has ever seen before."

Glancing over to Bernard and nodding an apology, Arch Abbot Monte Ca.s.sino continued, "Forgive me for breaking in on your explanation, Dean Bernard. But the urgency of the matter requires a more direct sharing of information with Brother Johann.

"Brother, this Grantville has become the ruling power inThuringia and an ally of the Swede. It, not the Swede, now controls vast reaches ofFranconia and has managed to put the forces of Tilly in panicked retreat.

"They claim to be from a future almost four centuries ahead of our time. They claim to have no idea how or why they were brought here to the current time and place. The book you hold in your hands is evidence of the incredible things that their merchants and tinkerers can do with the most exotic machines.

These devices mystify the most knowledgeable alchemists and scientists that the Church has consulted.

"Even more puzzling, although they have made a devil's pact with the Swede Gustavus Adolphus, they seem to be perfectly content to allow followers of the True Faith to practice our religious beliefs. They attempt to make no regulation based on their leaders' faith and beliefs.

"Dean Bernard has brought it to our attention that our brothers in Christ, the Society of Jesus, have managed to place observers right in the middle of Grantville. This was done openly, with no apparent repercussions or persecutions of these emissaries. There even seems to be a Roman Catholic Church with its own congregation and parish priest, also from this amazing future.

"Brother Johann," Arch Abbot Monte Ca.s.sino asked, "would you please read the pa.s.sage marked in the book you hold?" Johann again looked down at the marvelous relic in his hands and noticed for the first time a cloth ribbon protruding slightly from the edge. Opening to the marked page, he saw a pa.s.sage marked with what must have been a quill pen.

Johann was horrified at the desecration of such perfection. Still he began, "The confiscation of Catholic religious property following the Treaty of Westphalia (1648) had been for the benefit of Protestant rulers alone. More than a hundred monasteries and countless pious foundations disappeared at this time. By the middle of the eighteenth century a new movement devoted to the destruction of monastic inst.i.tutions swept over those German portions of theHoly Roman Empire , which had remained loyal to the Catholic Faith. The supernatural character of the religious life was totally ignored; abbeys and convents were permitted to exist only after giving proof of their material utility."

"That's enough, Brother." Arch Abbot Monte Ca.s.sino paused and looked around the table. "For nine centuries the Order has brought education, civilization and the Good News of our Lord's Pa.s.sion to the peoples ofEurope and the world. Now we find ourselves still strong in the Faith, but weakened. Only three centuries ago, our Order numbered over thirty seven thousand monasteries. If this book is to be trusted, by the end of this century, we will be able to count only five thousand. Our lands inGermany are under Protestant control. Bursfeld itself is under Lutheran control. The Hessians have looted the great library atFulda . And now, the Lord has brought to us a clear vision of how The Adversary will triumph over our best efforts unless we open our eyes to whatever it is He is trying to show us.

"We are in a crisis, Brother," Arch Abbot Monte Ca.s.sino continued. "Your brothers in Christ, here a.s.sembled, believe that the Lord has brought this test to us for a reason. After much prayer and discussion, we believe that Grantville was placed nearFulda at the time of its greatest challenge just so we could learn what lessons our Order may have pa.s.sed along to this future generation, represented by Grantville. Thus we hope to have a light cast on the path the Lord intends for us to walk during this time of death and destruction.

"You, Brother Johann, are from the very valley in which Grantville is now located. You worked and prayed and studied for decades in the Library of Fulda. You brought sucha rationality to the organization of the books and journals and other papers there that your methods have been adopted by not only our monasteries," Arch Abbot Monte Ca.s.sino gestured to the other Abbots around the table as he continued, "but by Benedictine monasteries throughoutEurope . You were called here to help rediscover the knowledge that our Lord has revealed to our brothers that has been stored here since our founding.

"'Listen, My Son, to the precepts of the Master, and lend the ears of your heart.' These are the words of our beloved Saint Benedict and this is the calling which we believe that G.o.d has chosen for you."

All the Abbots and Dean Bernard stood and clasped their hands as if beginning a prayer. "Brother Johann, we, the Fathers a.s.sembled, humbly request that you make a pilgrimage to this place Grantville, not to spread the Word, but to listen and learn. We fervently pray that the Lord reveal His purpose to you, thereby to the future of the Order and how we may continue to serve the souls of humanity by His Grace."

II: The Journey Johann had spent the night in his cell praying for guidance on how to prepare for this great adventure that G.o.d had ordained for him. When the first rays of light broke through his small window, he ended his communion with the Lord, crossed himself, and walked to his library.

Like the fruit that tempted Eve, the book lay on the table where he'd left it the previous night. The stories it held! Up to the current time, it seemed to be accurate or at least convincing that there might be truths contained that he had not been exposed to. But then it continued, page after page of horrible, mind numbing events and wars. But most amazing of all, the ideas!

Thinkers, some just born, some not to be born for centuries, illuminate this future with such intriguing ideas and the results of those ideas.Some of those ideas were on a par with Aristotle, some on a par with Lucifer, but all contained promise and all contained traps.

Johann picked up theWestern Civilization book and wandered over and laid it next to theLattanzio Sublacense . That was the first book written, typeset, and printed in this very monastery by Brothers and fellow Germans Sweynheim and Pannartz. They had brought the first printing press toItaly in 1464. That very press still stood in another room in the monastery. He was staring at what he had always considered the holy art of printing, on one hand one hundred sixty-seven years in the past, on the other three hundred sixty-seven years in the future. He glanced up and saw the cabinet in which he had stored one of the only ma.n.u.scripts ofSt. Augustine himself, theDe Civitate Dei .

"BlessedSt. Augustine ," he prayed, "please show me whether this Grantville is indeed a City ofG.o.d or a City of the Devil."

It took several more days before he was satisfied that he had learned all that his mind could absorb from this book of one future and began his preparations. As a Benedictine monk, Johann led a very simple life.

Leaving behind material possessions was not a problem. Brother Julio was ready to take over his responsibilities in the library. Johann devoted his remaining time to meeting with individual monks. He prayed with them singly or in small groups and then began his trip to his almost forgotten homeland.

During the weeks it took for him to walk across theAlps , Johann had sufficient time to realize that this was truly a journey into the future and the past.

Grantville, of course, represented the future. b.u.t.thuringia ... memories of his childhood inThuringia , seemingly lost in the decades since he had been away, kept coming up at every turn. He remembered skipping rocks off the small pools formed in the meanders of theSchwarzaRiver and chasing rabbits in the meadows of his father's estate. He smiled as he recalled the rich smells of the pastries his mother could bake in that beautiful, giant, solidly built German house that protected his family and in winter, the family livestock.

It had been years since he learned that his sisters Gretchen and Inga had died of the plague. They were the last of his family, other than himself, to survive the horrible devastation of "The Thirty Years War," as the book had named it.

Johann shivered and pulled his black robes closer and adjusted his pack. It wasn't just the chill of the mountain air in this northern clime that caused that particular shiver. "I wonder if Herr von Schoenfeld is still alive?" he murmured. When Johann had been a boy, it was von Schoenfeld who had introduced him to the joy of books. They held wonderful tales, vistas and horizons that he could never have even imagined. Books had opened a door that had led Johann inevitably to the great library in the Abby of Fulda, the greatest library in southernGermany .

There it was Brother Georg who showed him how to preserve those precious ma.n.u.scripts in such a way as to make them last. It was Brother Georg who showed him the beauty of the order of knowledge that exists in a library, and from that in the teachings of G.o.d as revealed by St. Benedict.

And when Brother Georg was promoted to the Church Triumphant some years later, Johann knelt before Abbot Johann Friedrich von Schwalbach and accepted his vows, converting from the Lutheran heresy to the monastic life of St. Benedict.

III: The Arrival

After several days of following the road down theElbeRiverValley towards where theSaaleRiver joined its flow, Johann began hearing a peculiar sound. At first he thought it might be his imagination, the soft "potato, potato, potato" sound, but soon he noticed it changing to a low rumbling roar in the distance.

Occasionally he heard a high-pitched whirring sound that he could not identify either. Crossing himself, once again he offered up his silent prayer for protection and took care to keep within sight any convenient hiding spot along his path.

At the next bend in the road, he saw the source of his concern. There, in the middle of the road was a machine, yellow with a large box affixed to one end and what looked like an arm attached to the other. In the center sat a man in dress something like what Johann had seen in the incredible engravings in the book. Black smoke blew from the chimney of the roaring machine as the person on top did something with some levers. The arm moved!

There was a large scoop at the end. The arm and scoop took a bite out of the ground beneath, picked it up and tossed it to one side. Then it repeated the action.

Johann was so amazed at this, that he was startled by the high-pitched whine, which suddenly started up to the left of the yellow machine. He pushed his gla.s.ses up the bridge of his nose in order to improve his vision and squinted. He finally located a man standing by a felled tree holding something that was tearing a hole out of the timber. After watching the actions of this small crew of men and their machines for a time, he decided that if he was to ever reach Grantville, he must get past this challenge.

Johann walked carefully toward the men and their machines. Another one of them noticed him and, putting down his device, picked up something that resembled a musket but was much shorter. In bad German, he yelled, "Advance and be recognized! Keep your hands in clear sight!Hurry!"

Johann raised his arms to waist height and turned his palms up in what he hoped the stranger would view as a supplicating manner, and continued his approach. "I come to find Grantville," Johann said when he was within range of normal speech. "Would you rather speak in English or German?"

The stranger was now joined by a couple of his fellows. "h.e.l.l, Jimmy," said one of them. "This guy talks better English than you do."

"What's your business, traveler?" asked the one named Jimmy. "What brings you to theUnited States ?"

A moment's confusion slowed Johann's response. He had read of thisUnited States , but it was clearly on the North American continent at least one hundred forty years in the future. No matter, he quickly decided. "I am Brother Johann of the monastic Order of St. Benedict. I come to see Grantville and find G.o.d's purpose in bringing it here."

The one that challenged him brought his short musket to his side and laughed, "Well, Padre, as soon as you figure that out, be sure to let me know. I've been trying to figure that one out since we got here!"

The men welcomed Johann and offered him water from a bright orange container. They shared their food as they talked about themselves and their home. They referred to this pause as something called a "smoke break." It must have referred to the machines being turned off, because the smoke had stopped while they broke.

Johann was more interested in the men than the devices they took so much for granted. There was a genuine air of openness and confidence in even the least of the crew members. That was combined with a certain sense of danger should some nebulous opponent ever cross their path.

After finishing his first smoke break, Johann got directions from the crew. He picked up his pack and blessed them to be safe in their work. Every man bent his head and one even made the sign of the cross as Johann finished his blessing. The road, from that point, became noticeably more level. It had a layer of crushed rock which had been packed in some way. Where washes had been there were now metal pipes to allow the water flow to go under the roadbed.

For the next several days, Brother Johann continued to pa.s.s the familiar sights of villagers going about their proper work. Farmers in the fields gathered what, to Johann, seemed to be large harvests of their respective crops. Also the occasional machine would pa.s.s Johann. They were operated by more of these "up-timers," or "Americans," as they called themselves.

Finally he reached the last leg of his journey. Johann turned up the "American road" along the north sh.o.r.e of theSchwarzaRiver . As he walked along the improved road, he pa.s.sed more and more large American construction sites on and near the riverbank. Amazingly, it seemed that Grantville must be very close to his family estate.

When he came upon several houses within sight of the road, he realized that he recognized them. One, just off the road, had a cairn of rocks in the field in front of it. There was a sign which read:

"WE DON'T KNOW WHO THESE MURDERING RAPING b.a.s.t.a.r.dS ARE THAT WE PUT.

HERE.DON'T MUCH CARE EITHER. IF THERE ARE ANY MORE OF YOU OUT THERE, BE.

WARNED. THIS AREA IS NOW UNDER THE PROTECTION OF THE UMWA. IF YOU TRY.

TO HARM OR ROB ANYBODY WE WILL KILL YOU. THERE WILL BE NO FURTHER.

WARNING. WE WILL NOT NEGOTIATE. WE WILL NOT ARREST YOU. YOU WILL SIMPLY BE DEAD.

WE GUARANTEE IT.

GO AHEAD. TRY US.".

It had been a neighbor's home. Johann clearly remembered the young boy he had played and grown up with. While he couldn't quite remember the name, he remembered the boy always liked to work with his hands, while Johann preferred to keep his hands on books.

Then it struck him. He turned and realized that the American road dove into a cut in the ground just beyond this neighbor's home. How could this be!

Johann dropped to hisknees, as the personal price of this mission suddenly became crystal clear him.

This was the very land that had been seized from the Abbey of Fulda during the early days of the Protestant Reformation. It was the same land that then had been awarded to one of Johann's ancestors for service to his rulers. This very land had been taken by G.o.d to advance His will.

Grantville was largely on his very own family land! What a divine irony. Johann's older siblings and their families were dead. Johann himself had taken a vow of poverty and renounced his claim to the land and its income. Thus G.o.d was free to do as He willed, and He obviously had.

Johann ran his hand through his graying but still blond hair. He now saw that his entire life had been laid out so that this very event could take place. Like most who study the Bible, Johann had at times wondered what Moses must have felt like when he saw the bush that burned but was not consumed or what the bystanders at the grave of Lazarus had experienced when he walked alive from the grave. Now, for the first time, he really, truly knew.

He pa.s.sed through the cut and stepped on the soft dark grey rock surface of the road beyond. Johann looked around in what now seemed a state of continuing amazement at the slightly curved earthen wall that stretched out from him in opposite directions. It seemed to form a clear delineation between what was then and what was now.

Steep hills rose and fell on both sides as he continued into what the American road crew had referred to as the "Ring of Fire." He pa.s.sed small houses and buildings set back off the dark grey road. He also pa.s.sed less traveled, but similarly constructed roads, which made their way to their appointed destinations. Johann began to notice a smell. He had been in many cities and villages in his life and recognized the smell of soot from the wood used to cook and to warm the inhabitants. He had been into the smithies and hammer mills where iron was worked over coal fires with its unique gritty, sulfur, and metallic smell. Even though this was stronger than he had been exposed to before, there was something different about the smell of this town he was walking into.

There was not the smell of ammonia from the human waste that was a common part of city life to his experience. Notthat German or Italian cities were the depositories of human waste that brother monks related from their experiences inEngland , but so many outhouses and waste collection vehicles naturally left their perfume as part of the background smell of a city.

More and more people pa.s.sed him on the road. Some of them were dressed in that strange new garb ofAmericans; most were dressed in the normal clothing that he was accustomed to. Then some wore with mixtures of normal garb and either a cap with a bill on it or light, tight shirts with drawings or messages printed on them. There was an increasing diversity of vehicles as well. Mostly there were horse drawn wagons jockeying for position in the flow of traffic. But, occasionally, vehicles like Johann had seen in the book at the monastery pa.s.sed with a soft rumble from under their metal surfaces.

No one seemed fearful. At most, the inhabitants appeared anxious to get to wherever they were going.

Nor did he notice any beggars on the corners. Corners that he noticed were not made of cut stone, but of some kind of molded rock material that looked as though it had been poured in a molten state, and had frozen in place.

On his right as he walked up one hill, he noticed a tall, solidly built man stretching on the front porch of a neatly kept white cottage. The man looked very sharply at him, and then, as if making some kind of studied judgment, smiled and waved.