Up-Time Pride and Down-Time Prejudice

by Mark H. Huston

  The Countess looked at her, smiling broadly. “Well done. You're cleverer than some of the family in Augsburg, so afraid of secrets being stolen by someone who is little more than a naive girl. We welcome what she brings, but here we can also control what she brings. One might say, if one was so inclined to say such a thing, that it was okay.”

  Chapter 16 The Dance Lesson

  Early July, 1634

  "N

  o, No, No, No! Do it again!” Dance Master Herr Holl put aside his pochette in frustration, and gestured with his bow for the small violin. “You must turn to your right, not your left. Then step to your partner, not on your partner!” The portly dance master pointed with the bow again, indicating where Mary went wrong on her steps. Regina, who was dancing as a male partner to Mary, rubbed her foot. “This is a dance everyone knows from childhood!” He threw his arms into the air. “Hopeless, this is hopeless. Why do I try?” He turned his eyes heavenward asking for strength from above, with a slight nod to Regina.

  Mary decided Herr Holl was a little on the overly-dramatic side. Well, she could be dramatic too, or at least as forceful as this pompous little man. “Herr Holl. I've too many things to do instead of listening to you play these little songs on your little fiddle, and yelling at me about one-two-three-four and pointing my toes.” They had been working for the last two hours, and the man was trying to cram as much dance experience as possible into Mary before the ball was to take place. They had less than a week, and Mary had a lot of things to do that had nothing to do with dancing. And she was in danger of a lot of those things not getting done. There were papers to grade, letters to write. Staying ahead of some of the kids and adults in her classes was frankly wearing her down. A few of them were really, really smart. And they almost always did their homework, and some of them were working far ahead of where she was prepared to teach. She was frazzled, and this pompous little dance instructor, with his little screechy pocket violin, which he played while tapping his foot loudly on the wooden floor and shouting at her, had just about gotten on her last nerve. Last. Nerve. She frowned at him with a great deal of purpose.

  Herr Holl was no shrinking violet, and he was not used to being talked back to, apparently, as he was ignoring her best frown. “How in the world are you supposed to go to a ball, without knowing the dances? You will be judged at best a rube, a - an ignoramus. Dance is the most important social skill that…”

  She took a step towards him. There were times when being the tall girl was an advantage. “I've stuff to do, Herr Holl! And learning how to fancy-square dance isn't one of them!” ‘Stuff’ came out in English, to her surprise.

  He was red in the face, but not backing down, and their voices were beginning to elevate. He stood up straight, eyes bulging a bit. “I do not know what ‘stuff’ is supposed to be, Fraulein Russo.” He waved the bow around like a blade in the air. “But this is important. The Count insists that you learn to dance at least three dances, and you have had the book for a month describing them. Did you even read it at all?”

  “Of course I read it!” She shouted back at him. “It looked like a bunch of chicken scratches on a page, with music I couldn’t read.”

  “That is dance notation, not chicken feet! Everyone knows that.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not from around here, Herr Holl!” Mary crossed her arms and harrumphed. “And it looked like chicken scratches to me.” She peered down her nose at the man, who looked straight back at her.

  “Perhaps,” Regina interjected soothingly, “we could do something about your schedule for the next week, before the ball? Would that help?” The three of them were standing in the main hall, the room with the Hapsburg family tree painted on the walls. The late afternoon sun was streaming in the windows, and it was warm. Regina had been dancing with Mary, so she wasn’t just marching, skipping and twirling around the room by herself. Regina gently pulled Mary away from Herr Holl. “You know, Mary, there will be many important people here for this ball, it will be your formal introduction. The Count and the Countess want this to be done correctly. And we can’t have one of the most important guests of the ball not know the most basic steps.”

  Mary sighed. “I just have so much to do, Regina. And learning to dance is not the best use of my time. And why am I a guest at this ball? I’m just a teacher here.”

  Regina turned to the dance master. “Excuse us, Herr Holl.” She gestured with her hand, subtly shooing him to the far side of the room.

  He bowed to Regina, stiffly, and Mary saw them exchange a look. “Of course, Countess.” He then picked up his pochette and pranced away, playing one of his dance tunes. Regina and Mary walked to the other side of the room where one of the round towers met the castle, forming a semi-circular bump on the side of the large rectangular hall. It had a surprisingly up-time looking sash window, along with wooden benches that offered a view over the valley below them. Regina motioned for Mary to sit, and they both took a seat looking out the large multi-paned window.

  They were silent for a moment or two, while Herr Holl’s pocket fiddle faintly scratched out dance tunes on the other side of the great hall. After a bit of a pause, Mary began to get anxious. Regina wanted to talk about something, and Mary still had a lot of papers to grade, a lesson to plan, the new steam engine project, and at least six letters to write to Grantville. There simply wasn’t enough time in the day to get the things done she needed to get done. She quietly began to miss the unassuming duty she had at Wurzburg. But then again, that didn’t pay nearly what this did. And it was boring. Nor did it have these views.

  Finally Regina spoke, still gazing out the window at the valley below them. “Back up-time, what kind of formal ceremonies did you have to introduce, or maybe present, people to society?”

  Mary laughed a little at the question. “Well, the short answer was we didn’t. It was a small town where I lived, and everyone pretty much knew everyone else. Or they knew your family. There was really no need.”

  “So you had no formal coming of age ceremonies?” Regina looked a little sad at that.

  “Oh we did. I suppose the nearest thing was my catechism class. We had a pretty big party after that at home with family and friends, and neighbors. And Father Larry. And school graduations, I guess. Those were kind of a big deal.”

  “Nothing more formal?”

  “Hmmm. Let me think a bit.” She rubbed her nose. “Well, I think in the cities, they had fancy society balls. Like in Pittsburgh, or maybe Wheeling. Debutante balls they were called, I guess. Too rich for our blood though. Our people were not the type to have debutante balls and cotillions – I think they were called. Rich girls in frilly dresses getting presented to society. Grantville didn’t have much in the way of ‘society’.” She made air quotes around the word ‘society’ with her fingers, and Regina looked at her questioningly. “That means sort of like sarcasm, as if you're quoting someone.” She repeated the motion. “Grantville ‘society’.”

  Regina nodded. “I see. So, no formal introductions.”

  Mary shook her head. “No. Not really. Is that what this is, a formal introduction?”

  Regina smiled at Mary. “Yes! Yes it is. Very formal and official, your ‘debutante ball’ as you said.” Regina used the air quotation marks around ‘debutante ball’ and said the words in English.

  Mary shook her head as she replied. “But I don’t understand why. I mean, I’m just Mary Russo from Grantville. Not some Pittsburgh teenager whose daddy used to own a steel mill back in the day. My mother is a shopkeeper. Why this coming out ball for me?”

  Regina took a deep breath. “Well, the short answer is that the Count wishes it to be, so we are attempting to carry out his wishes. As we always should to the best of our ability. The long answer, which I will explain for you because you are an up-timer and seem to need to have everything explained to you before you do it,” She smiled briefly at Mary, cushioning the small sting, “is that it is an advantage to the Count, and to the fami
ly.” She waggled her finger briefly at Mary. “And do not think this is for you only, this ball. It’s an annual affair here in the valley, not just for you.”

  Mary felt a lot of pressure go off her shoulders. “Well, that’s good to know. That’s actually a big relief. The younger kids have been talking in class about me learning to dance, and how to bow to people, and how to accept a dance invitation. Lots of little coaches for me. It’s kind of cute. They are talking about this as Mary’s Ball, and how Mary needs to do this for her ball, or that for her ball. Like this whole thing was for my benefit. I don’t mind a little pressure, but this is ridiculous.”

  Regina took Mary’s hand in both of hers, and turned to face her. She had bright green eyes, and a round serene face. She spoke quietly, yet firmly. “Well, Mary, there is pressure for you to be as perfect as possible. What you do reflects on the family. How you perform tells the attendees of the affair - the many, very important attendees – your performance tells them whether or not the Count has made a smart investment or, as many in the family feel, a stupid one. The Count does not wish to be thought of as making a stupid investment, or a poor decision. Your performance will be judged by many, and that judgement will reflect on you, but more importantly, on the Count and the family here in the Schloss. So yes, Mary. Pressure. For all of us.” Mary felt her squeeze her hand. “I understand this is not what you expected, but you must do this, and do it as well as you can.”

  Herr Holl had worked himself and his squeaky pocket violin closer to their seats, keeping one eye on them, as he continued to play and dance himself about the room. Mary glanced up at him, and then back to Regina.

  “We know how many candles you are using, Mary. You are burning them incessantly, which tells us all how hard you are working. In fact, Hofer was complaining about the budget for candles and how we needed more oil lamps. It seems you are making your students stay up late too.” She gave Mary’s hand another squeeze and stood up, stretching her back. “Now let’s get back to dancing, shall we?”

  Mary sighed, stood up, and shouted at the dance master. “Okay, Herr Holl. Let’s get this done…”

  Chapter 17 The Ball

  And now, on an early July afternoon, she was about to enter the great hall at Schloss Tratzberg. The entry doors were closed in front of her, and she paused before them. Her dress looked great, and more importantly it felt great. The slippers she was wearing were actually comfortable. She had been tucked and trussed into the gown by Maria, and inspected by Regina. She had some makeup on for the first time in forever, using nearly the last of her up-time supplies. She started to chew her lower lip, remembered she had makeup on, and instead fidgeted with the dress. Maria re-straightened the dress after she fidgeted with it. The hallway outside the great room was narrow, and the late afternoon sun had warmed the building. On the other side of the doors were over a hundred high-born muckedy-mucks milling about in the space, the orchestra already playing. Maria leaned in, and whispered in her ear. “You look wonderful, Mistress.”

  “Like a Disney Princess?” Mary asked half-jokingly.

  Mary nodded formally, but looked confused. “A princess, certainly Mistress. Is Disney an Estate in the Empire? I've not heard of it.”

  Mary was about to answer with a smile, when the doors to the great hall opened, and the sounds of the orchestra swelled into the hallway, followed by the warmth and odors of the crowd. There was hint of sweat, cloyingly covered with floral scents and mixed with the sharper smells of candle wax and foods served by a small army of servants. The candlelight and sunlight spilled into the darker hallway, and heads turned to see who was entering. Mary stood up straight, nodded to Maria who would stay in the hallway, and, thinking that Disney World really should be one of the Estates of the Holy Roman Empire, she strode into the room, chin up, looking for a friendly face.

  The windows of the room faced to the south, and the late afternoon sun had not yet sunk behind the mountains on the far side of the valley, so as she stepped into the room she was briefly blinded by the glare. She forced herself to keep her chin up, and gazed about. She sensed heads turning to her, and there was a subtle dip in the level of conversation. Her heart pounded in her ears. She looked to her right where the orchestra had set up on small risers that had been brought in for the affair. The Conductor was standing and playing his violin, directing the musicians. The first face she recognized was the Countess, and since Mary figured she was the boss of this affair, she headed that way, mentally reviewing the greeting and curtsey she was to give the hostess. Thank God for Regina and her coaching, she thought as she made eye contact with the Countess across the room.

  Before she had taken two steps, she was intercepted by three young men, the only one she recognized was Franz. “Mary! You must dance with us!” They erupted around her as if they were lying in ambush, awaiting her passing.

  “Yes, yes! Right now!” The other two chimed in. “We insist.”

  She turned to them, they had lined up on one side of her. “How very nice of you, but perhaps later.” She glanced to the countess, who was still watching the exchange. Mary took a half step towards her. “If you would excuse me.”

  One of the men, tall, gangly and red-faced and looking barely seventeen, reached out and grabbed her by the elbow, tugging her towards the dance floor. “No. You will dance with us now. Me first.” He grinned at his companions as he pulled her towards the area in front of the orchestra, where a small group was doing a dance that she recognized. She was so surprised by the man and his proposition, she barely had time to plant her feet.

  “Perhaps you did not understand me, young man.” She emphasized his apparent youth in an attempt to gain control of the situation. Time in the classroom had taught her some good reflexes, even though she was barely only a couple of years older than him. “I will dance later. There are people I need to speak to.”

  The young man continued to tug her towards the dance floor, and she was forced to pull her elbow away from his grip. Mary tried to keep her movements small, as she knew people were watching. The last thing she wanted was a tug of war. “Hey!” he exclaimed. He looked shocked as she pulled away. He glanced first to Franz, then to his companion, and then back to Mary.

  She was desperately trying to not to make a scene ten feet from the door, but this kid was genuinely rude. He didn’t seem like he was drunk, just stupid, or mean, or perhaps all of those at the same time. “I told you I have people to talk to, please excuse me.” Her remark was pointed and as direct as it could be without shouting, and with the general background of the orchestra and the buzz of conversation, she doubted anyone heard her except Franz and his companions. She spun on her heel, skirt swirling around her, and made her way directly for the countess, who was watching the whole proceeding with a look of curiosity.

  As she walked away, she heard them muttering among themselves, and Mary figured it was best if she pretended she didn’t hear what they were saying, as the insults were something about up-timers and female dogs. The whole thing felt distinctly surreal, as if she was having a nightmare about what the dance might be. She mentally pinched herself that it was indeed reality, and made her way to the Countess, still shaking her head slightly. As she approached the Countess, she noticed she was speaking to a shorter energetic middle-aged man who was as well dressed as anyone, silver haired and quite distinguished looking. The Countess paused the man’s conversation with her hand and a smile, and received Mary’s formal curtsey.

  “Countess.” Mary looked at the Countess and watched as her shrewd grey eyes surveyed her person quickly, missing very little. She took in the dress, as well as her discomfort. Mary fought to present a calm face, but she knew her cheeks were flushed from the brief encounter with the young men. She smiled at the Countess to hide it, but realized it would do little good. “Thank you, Countess, for the invitation to this evening. I feel honored.”

  “Mary, you are most welcome.” The Countess acknowledged her, then looked back past Mary briefly,
and Mary turned to see that the three men had gone as a pack towards one of the servants carrying wine glasses on a tray “That was rather odd, were those boys bothering you?”

  Mary smiled bravely. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, your Grace.”

  The Countess suppressed a small laugh. “I am sure. But I will have someone speak to them. Franz should know better than to be rude, and the two who are with him are from Jenbach, I think. Sons of a local administrator.”

  Mary’s first thought was that she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, and almost suggested to the countess that no one needed to address the rudeness with the young men. But since she had been here under the roof of the Schloss, she had learned that if the Countess was going to say something, or have someone else say something, there was little that Mary was going to be able to do to change the Countess’s mind. So she wisely remained silent. She simply said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  The Countess nodded regally, accepting her thanks. She turned to the distinguished man next to her. “Chancellor, I would like to introduce you to Mary Margaret Russo von Uptime. Mary, may I present Herr Doctor Wilhelm Bienner, the Chancellor of Tyrol.”

  Mary blinked at the moniker she was just assigned by the Countess. Von Uptime. That was new. But she had no time to think about it, as Bienner was bowing, and she dipping a curtsey, by now almost a reflex movement for her. “It’s a true pleasure, Mary Margaret Russo von Uptime. You are the first of your kind I am meeting. There are new diplomats in Basel, who are from up-time, but I have not had time to travel there as of yet. So you are my first!”

  “Well, I've never met a Chancellor of Tyrol before, so I guess we are even.” Mary smiled with what she hoped was her best diplomatic smile. Nobody told her there was going to be anyone at the ball with this kind of rank, she thought this was going to be a local Inn Valley gathering. But, the more she thought, the more she realized that it made sense. The Fugger were connected, and being connected meant that people of rank were going to attend. Like the Chancellor of freakin’ Tyrol…