Grantville Gazette, Volume 72 Read online

  "That's a problem," Luis admitted.

  "We could pretend to be mestizo," said Juan. "When we were in New Spain, I saw many indios who could pass for nihonjin if they wore kimono and geta. And at least a few of the mestizo took after them."

  "There are mestizo in Seville, but only a few come with each flota, and they usually don't settle here. And I suspect that if they look much like us, they are in danger of being taken to be nihonjin and lynched, given the current mood of the city."

  Gonzalo spat. "I suppose we will have to become farmers and never leave Coria again. Stay away from the riverbank, too."

  "Not necessarily," said Luis. "I have an idea. Do you have your reading glasses handy?" Few of the inhabitants of Coria del Rio were literate, but the converted samurai had been literate in their homeland and had learned to read Latin.

  "Go get them," said Luis. And while Gonzalo was away on this errand, Luis built up the fire.

  "Here they are," said Gonzalo.

  "Give them to me," said Luis, and once they were in his hands, he held them over the fire.

  "What are you doing?"

  "You are a fisherman, you have smoked fish, yes? I am smoking your lenses."

  As Gonzalo watched Luis do just that, he asked, "Whatever gave you this idea?"

  "I had two recollections that mixed together. There was a Chinese scholar at Lord Date's court. He came to Japan after the famines of 1590 and 1591, I believe. I was in attendance on the lord and they were talking about judicial proceedings. The scholar mentioned that in China, judges wear eyeglasses with lenses made of smoky quartz, so that the accused cannot guess what they are thinking from their expressions.

  "So that seemed relevant, but I have no idea where to find smoky quartz here in Spain, and even if I did, it would probably be too expensive. But then I thought about how soot builds up on glass lanterns . . . ."

  ****

  Gonzalo tried out the smoked glasses the next morning. The deposit of soot on the lenses indeed made it harder for passers-by to see the shape of his eyes, even in the bright morning light.

  "It works," he told Luis, "but I wonder what will happen to the soot coating when it rains. Or if we're out in the open ocean and get hit by a wave, or even just sea spray. You think we could use mica, instead?" Mica was sometimes used instead of glass in ship's lanterns and in spectacles for stone and metal workers.

  "Isn't it expensive?" asked Luis doubtfully. Most mica came to Spain from Russia or India. A little came from New Spain; there were trade routes still in operation that brought mica to the Olmecs and Maya of Mexico from sources unknown.

  "We can buy the rejects," said Gonzalo. "The sheets that are green or amber."

  "Or we can have lenses made locally, from green glass."

  ****

  The Japanese and half-Japanese fishermen of Coria del Rio started wearing green-tinted glasses that hid their distinctive eyes from any xenophobic Spaniards. So, too, did a few of their whole-blooded Spanish neighbors and relations, as a show of solidarity. They all found, much to their surprise and delight, that the glasses had another advantage; it made it easier to see in the bright sun of Andalusia. The custom of wearing the tinted glasses spread, first to other Corian fishermen, and then to the farmers as well.

  And so the people of Coria del Rio came to be known along the length of the Guadalquivir as gente de ojos verdes -- the "green-eyed ones."

  ****

  Author's Note: The names of the Japanese who remained in Coria del Rio is not known, because the parish church records were destroyed by fire. "Kinzo" is the name of one who went to Rome. There are several accounts of the Hasekura embassy, and they are not in complete agreement with each other. I have relied mostly on Abraham, "The Japon Lineage in Spain," in Japanese and Nikkei at Home and Abroad, and Meriweather, "Life of Date Masamune," in Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan. The embassy was sent by Date Masamune, who is a major character in my 1636: Seas of Fortune.

  The full story of the Dutch-Japanese assault on Manila (and Cavite) will appear in 1636: Mandate of Heaven. Eric and I handed in the manuscript in Dec. 2015, but best guess is that it will be published in April-June 2018. Just to be clear, the Japanese did not in fact kill every Spaniard in the city of Manila, that's merely what was rumored on the streets of Seville.

  Eyeglasses were invented in Italy in the late thirteenth century. By the fifteenth century, they were widely exported throughout Europe, and the cheapest cost just a couple of shillings.

  http://www.antiquespectacles.com/history/ages/through_the_ages.htm

  As for seventeenth-century Spain, consider this portrait of Don Francisco de Quevedo:

  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pince-nez#/media/File:Quevedo_(copia_de_Vel%C3%A1zquez).jpg

  Glasses were worn by both sexes, and by both old and young, and the higher the social class, the larger the lenses. See Desfourneaux, Daily Life in Spain in the Golden Age 155-6 (1966).

  ****

  Magdeburg

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  14 January 1635

  Sunday

  Breakfast–

  Fasted

  Lunch-

  1 sausage 2 pfennigs

  1 wheat roll 3 pfennigs

  Supper–

  1 cup sauerkraut 2 quartered pfennigs

  1 wurst 2 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Only noted expenses yesterday. Was dealing with message rejecting story.

  No dreams last night. Don't remember any from the night before, either.

  Attended church today. With Christmas and Epiphany concluded, music wasn't anything special. Did sing, but it was dull. Reading and homily weren't much better. Missed Pastor Gruber. But still felt better after it was over.

  Herr Gronow's letter did not crush me like the first one. Guess having been hit once, the second time was no surprise, or something. Learning the writing is going to take longer than I thought. Just means I am more determined to see my story in Der Schwarze Kater. Will have to work harder, is all. Pinned both letters to the wall where I can see them all the time.

  Read three pages from The City of God. May be starting to understand this. That kind of scares me. Johann still in Jena, so no one to talk to about it.

  I am a writer—new-born, perhaps—or newly-fledged—and definitely not far along the path to success. But I will get there. Will sell something to Herr Gronow some day.

  Recited evening prayers. And now to bed.

  ****

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  15 January 1635

  Monday

  Breakfast–

  1 sausage 2 pfennigs

  1 wheat roll 3 pfennigs

  Supper–

  1 sausage 2 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Dreams last night sort of pleasant. Met my guardian angel. Name's Max. Carries an up-time style rifle like the broadsheets show Julie Sims has. Says modern demons require more firepower. That's where I woke up. Wrote that down. Might could be a story someday.

  Martin looked better at work today. Still way too skinny, but didn't look so much like a walking skeleton. His hands were steadier. Spent some little time praying that he will be well, and that whatever made him sick does not come my way.

  Herr Schiller looked at me closely when I came in. Said nothing, but I saw him look hard at me a couple of times in the morning. Finally asked him why. He said the last time I got a private message, I spent the next three days walking around and looking like someone standing ankle-deep in Hell with the tide rising, and he was wondering if I was going to do it again, because he wasn't paying me for that.

  Told him no, that I was fine and that nothing in the messages would affect me like the first one did. He raised his eyebrows. Told him the editor refused my story, but told me that I could fix it and submit it again. Herr S lowered his eyebrows and almost frowned, said I needed to do that. Told him I was. He nodded, turned back to his ledger, didn't look a
t me again.

  Spent most of evening thinking about story. Glad I have a copy this time. Think I can see a way to make it work better. Will have to rewrite almost all of it, though. Start over, in other words. That will not be okay, but it is what Herr Gronow was telling me to do. Sort of. I think. Yes.

  Recited evening prayers, and now to bed.

  ****

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  16 January 1635

  Tuesday

  Breakfast–

  2 wheat rolls 5 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Supper–

  1 sausage 2 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Dreams last night. Think I talked to Max again, but don't remember for sure.

  Reviewed last week's entries. No errors, which was good, since Herr Schiller and I did all the work last week. Martin started making cash entries again today. Let me get back to working on the contracts. Getting close to being halfway done with the reorganizing. Piles around the office and stuffed into drawers getting smaller. Good. Herr S kind of smiles when he looks around.

  Stopped at Syborg's Books tonight after work. Herr Johann was there, and Georg. Asked them if new Der Schwarze Kater book was on their shelves yet. They both laughed. Herr Johann said no, it will still be middle of February before it's out. Georg said that it isn't a book, that because Der Schwarze Kater is a magazine, they call it an issue, and this will be the third one. More up-timer weirdness with words, I guess.

  So I have to wait another month, I told them. That's not fair. I want it now. They laughed, and told me I'd have to get in line, that there were a lot more people, and a lot more important people, who wanted it just as much as I did. I said my two dollars was just as good as anybody else's. Herr Johann laughed again.

  True, though. Doesn't matter if it's me, or Princess Kristina, or Prime Minister Stearns, or Emperor Ferdinand, when we're reading Der Schwarze Kater we're all the same.

  Still thinking about how to recraft my story. Ideas rolling around in mind, but nothing has settled yet.

  Enough for today.

  Recited evening prayers. Now to bed.

  ****

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  19 January 1635

  Friday

  Breakfast–

  1 cup sauerkraut 2 quartered pfennigs

  1 barley roll 2 quartered pfennigs

  1 cup small beer 1 quartered pfennig

  Supper–

  1 sausage 2 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  No dreams last night. Don't remember any, anyway. Probably good, as I'm not sure I'd want to see Max three nights in a row. Too strange.

  Found real mess in office today. Box back in back room had a bucket sitting on the lid. Martin picked up bucket and knocked lid askew. He saw papers, and called me.

  Six contract files. Such a mess. Somehow they had gotten wet sometime before. Dry now. Pages were stuck together in the folders, moldy. Stunk. Eeeeough. Made stomach churn at first.

  Called Herr Schiller to come see. He turned white when he saw the box, and even whiter when he saw the files. Old contracts, very important contracts, Master Gröning will not be happy if they are lost.

  Green mold, not black. Could separate pages with some care. Have very thin-bladed knife in back room, old, not used for anything, but long enough to reach past mid-page of the contracts. Used it to pass between pages, gently gently gently to separate them. Got first folder separated, looked at mess. Herr Schiller gave me ten dollars, told me to go buy a bottle of Genever and some clean rags.

  Came back with Genever, moistened rag, dabbed at page. Herr S told me not to scrub, it might rub the letters off. After several dabs, mold began to loosen and come off the page. Page is stained, but can read the words. Took close to half an hour to do one page front and back. Set it aside to dry. Whooph. Genever has strong odor, but is better than mold smell. Guess I know what I will be doing for several days. Herr S wasn't so white after that, but he looked nervous. Kept looking at the door. Guess he was hoping Master Gröning wouldn't walk in or ask for those agreements.

  Tired when I got to my rooms. Didn't try to start story writing. Just read parts of the second Der Schwarze Kater. After that, thought about story a bit, think I have way to start it.

  Tired.

  Recited evening prayers, and now to bed.

  ****

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  20 January 1635

  Saturday

  Breakfast–

  2 barley rolls 4 quartered pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Supper–

  1 sausage 2 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Dreamt in color last night. Max was in one of the dreams. His wings were blue. He still had his up-time rifle. Black rifle. Said he was sad because Julie Sims was a better shot than he was. Woke up at that, laughing.

  Managed to get the first file's pages cleaned up in the half-work day today. Should be dry by Monday, will be able to put file back together, start cleaning the next one.

  Genever is strong. Herr Schiller says not to drink it. Wouldn't want to. Hurts my nose just to clean the pages with it.

  Started writing the new tale for my story today. Changed title to "Portia's Lament."

  Started reading parts of the Bible again. Genesis, Exodus, Joshua, Samuel, Kings, the Gospels, Acts of the Apostles. Those parts where there are story-like sections. Looking to drink in how Martin Luther would tell stories. Herr Gronow says that's the mark I need to hit. Best I'd learn from the best.

  Also read more of the second Der Schwarze Kater again. Really want third issue. At least three weeks. Bah.

  Recited evening prayers. Now to bed.

  ****

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  23 January 1635

  Tuesday

  Breakfast–

  1 sausage 1 pfennig

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Supper–

  1 wheat roll 3 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Dreamt last night. Woke up twice. No Max this time.

  Finished cleaning second file. More pages, more moldiness. Took longer. Had to buy another bottle of Genever. Moldy parts of pages don't look like the not moldy parts. Obvious stains. But can read the words pretty well. Must be good ink, soaked into paper. Will put second file back together tomorrow, start third file. Even more pages. Getting tired of smell of moldy paper and Genever. Herr Schiller glad to see this done, anxious to finish all of them. Can only do so much at a time.

  Reading through Samuel. Strong stories about strong people. Think I'm starting to see why Herr Gronow told me to read the Bible. Herr Luther's words simple, clear, but strong. Need to learn from that. Tell the story.

  Wrote more on "Portia's Lament" tonight. Trying to shape it like Martin Luther would. Not as easy as it seems it should be. Will keep working on it.

  Recited evening prayers. Now to bed.

  ****

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  26 January 1635

  Friday

  Breakfast–

  1 cup sauerkraut 2 quartered pfennigs

  1 wheat roll 3 pfennigs

  1 cup small beer 1 quartered pfennig

  Supper–

  1 wurst 2 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Dreamt last night. Woke up three times, twice panting. Think it was because I reread both Lovecraft stories from the first two issues of Der Schwarze Kater again last night. Really wish third issue was out.

  Finished cleaning the third file today. Three more to go. This is taking a lot longer than I wanted, but Herr Schiller says it's very important and needs to be all I work on until they're done. He actually has been reviewing the daily work by Martin, so guess he's serious. Old contracts, old paper is all I know. Must be something special.

  Reached a place in "Portia's Lament" where I saw why my first vers
ion didn't work. Or at least one reason why. Thought about it all evening. Think I understand why. Will try to fix tomorrow.

  Read the story of David and Bathsheba from Samuel tonight. Hard story. David was stupid. But people are stupid sometimes, even smart people and good people. So I need to think about that for stories. Heroes can't be too good, or too smart, or too strong, or too anything, I guess, because real people usually aren't. Even saints aren't perfect. Think about that.

  Enough for tonight. Recited evening prayers, and now to bed.

  ****

  From the Journal of Philip Fröhlich

  29 January 1635

  Monday

  Breakfast–

  1 wheat roll 3 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Supper–

  1 fish stew 4 pfennigs

  1 mug beer 1 pfennig

  Dreamt last night. Don't remember anything, except Max was there. Funny how having a name can make something seem more real.

  Never would have thought that Genever would be part of my work, but had to buy a third bottle today. Close to half-way through cleaning the fourth file. Not as much mold as the first three. That's good. Getting tired of doing this. Ready to get back to regular work. And really getting tired of the stink of old mold and old paper mixed with Genever. Eeeough. Makes my nose itch.

  Worked on "Portia's Lament" tonight. Think I'm getting the story better. Have some ideas about how to make the copy I submit work better. Think my hand is getting finer. Spelling is good. Grammar . . . I need to be more careful.