Grantville Gazette, Volume 64

by Bjorn Hasseler

  Sherrilyn’s arm hairs were now fully, almost painfully erect. It was a warm, sultry morning, but she rubbed her biceps and hugged herself against the sudden chill.

  “So of course, no one ever found the faintest clue as to whom the murderers were. Of course the smart money is on the woman’s family, who could’ve learned of her location easily enough. She kept pretty much to the compound, at first: I guess we understand why, now. But as time wore on she occasionally did some shopping in town. And just before Christmas, she reportedly went to Mass. It would have only taken one person who knew her, and who knew that a few words in the right ear would be worth many coins. Maybe it went down the Hapsburg rumor mill, from Austria to Iberia. Help in a blood matter earns a blood debt, in the way they count their honor.

  “At any rate, Liam and the company returned to barracks that same day. They found the pensioner dead in the guard house, and the unit started searching the camp, the perimeter, and the surrounding fields. I don’t know how or why it happened this way, but Liam arrived at his house alone. He was the first to see what was waiting for him there. By the time his men thought to look for him, he’d already covered the bodies. He was wiping up the blood with old bed sheets. He heard their reports as he worked. Nodded, said “Dismissed.” They remember that so specifically because it was the last word he spoke for almost three days.

  “When some of the married officers of the unit came, along with their wives, he wished them a Happy New Year and quietly closed the door in their faces. They watched him, on and off, for the next three days: cleaning up the blood, finding the missing pieces of her, scrubbing the wall over and over and over again. All night long. He never slept, ate, shat. If he pissed, they missed seeing it. The second night, he didn’t even think to light a candle. He worked in the dark: they watched him through the window.

  “Since Liam was their employer—and if anything, too kind a one—they tried to honor his obvious desire for privacy. But early the third day, they decided to inform the authorities, so a delegation of sorts was sent to shuffle into Sheriff Frost’s office. Who went out with a deputy to see the situation himself. I really don’t know what happened after that.”

  “And is that why Frost stopped passing your messages to Liam?”

  “I imagine so. I never have asked. I simply stewed in my cell and became utterly incensed. And when I finally did get out—well, you probably heard what happened then.”

  “I’ve heard a few different versions. I suspect yours is the one that matters.”

  “Hmm. Not sure that I agree. But at any rate, I stormed out of the jail, a free man. But I was determined to get locked up again for lambasting the name of Liam Donovan with the most outrageous and inventive slanders ever devised by a human being. After I had finished that set of pronouncements—while smoking two cigars at the same time—I proceeded to continue my diatribe at the Thuringian Gardens, where a variety of alcoholic beverages lent even richer poetry to my invective.”

  He stopped and looked at the far wall again. “You know, as inebriated as I was, I find it hard to believe, to this day, that I didn’t realize that no one was laughing, no one was shocked, no one was insulted. They just kept looking at me like I was some cross between a mad dog, a village idiot, and a roadside turd. And worst of all, no one stopped me.”

  He was silent, swallowed, and resumed. “That’s what, in retrospect, puzzles me the most: that no one sidled up to me and whispered, ‘might want to lay off asking God to smite Liam dead, because the poor blighter’d probably welcome it’. And of course I worked his wife and child into the act, professing perplexity why she would tolerate his scrofulous self, and praying that the boy would distinguish himself by claiming the right to justifiable patricide. Yes, I was in particularly fine form, that day.

  “Of course, I couldn’t let this achievement of outrage go without a crowning moment of glory. So I staggered and vomited my way out to the company compound. Walked through the guards, up to his house, came in the door cursing and accusing and abusing and happy to see that his wife had finally reacquired some measure of sense, since she had clearly left him, taking the baby with her. All of which he heard in utter silence.”

  Sherrilyn realized that she had stopped breathing. When Thomas did not restart, she exhaled, “And then what?”

  “Then? I left. Turned, went to the HQ, pulled out my equivalent back pay from the petty cash and hopped the train for Magdeburg. Where I stayed drunk for a very long time and sung Liam’s denigrations to any and all who would listen, not giving a damn that anyone who believed me would also spread word that the leadership of the Hibernian Mercenary Company could not be trusted: in short, putting myself out of a job. Yes, it was truly my finest hour.”

  “When—when did you learn about what had happened to Liam?”

  “Two months later. I made quite a whirlwind tour of the biergartens and bordellos of mid-northern Germany. Having run out of rage and money at just about the same time, I found my penniless way—slowly—back down to Grantville, ready to let bygones be bygones.”

  The smile on Thomas’ face was arguably the most bitter and self-loathing she had ever seen on any human being. Sherrilyn asked, “What did you do? How did you two—work together?”

  “Oh. We didn’t. Because when I made my prodigal return, no one told me what had really happened. And of course Liam wouldn’t talk to me. Which seemed most astounding, considering that I had, out of the limitless goodness of my heart, decided to forgive him for leaving me in gaol for almost half a year. The next day, he left with two squads that, according to the other officers, had volunteered to specialize in up-time close-quarters tactics. We had enough of your weapons and ammunitions, and their copies, to make a credible attempt at creating a genuine ‘spec ops’ group. He was gone by the time I got to work the second day. Being a singularly perceptive fellow, I began suspecting that something might be amiss, went in to Grantville, and heard the story.”

  “And since then?”

  “I mind the store. Liam remains in the field, cycling qualified volunteers through the special warfare program.”

  “And you’ve never spoken to him?”

  “How would I do that? And about what? And, more’s the point, why should he listen? I tried a few times: even cornered him once, when I figured he had no way to leave. He stayed there—I don’t know that he really listened—until I had to go take a piss. When I got back, he was gone. Since then, I’ve learned to leave bad enough alone.”

  Sherrilyn closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “Men,” she said finally. “You are so stupid.”

  “I can only speak for myself,” said Thomas. “But from the basis of that sample, I completely concur with you.”

  “Oh, stop beating yourself up, Thomas. You were a jackass—a titanic, friendship-destroying jackass, perhaps—but still just that: a jackass.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  “Well, sure, comparatively speaking.”

  “How so?”

  “Look: you’re an ass and you’re a mean drunk and you’re utterly insensitive at times, but you’re not evil. You had no idea what you were doing. And you thought he’d left you to rot for half a year. That’s a little bit more than ‘just a joke,’ after all.”

  “True. But nothing excuses what I said, and that I never once thought to see if my assumptions about Liam letting me rot in the jail were, in fact, accurate or not.”

  Sherrilyn folded her arms. “Okay, so tell me this: if you found yourself in the same situation today, would you behave the same way?”

  North looked sideways at Sherrilyn, aghast. “Miss Maddox, I may be a jackass and a titanic idiot and an irremediable buffoon, but I am not stupid.”

  “Meaning you’ve learned and grown as a person. Meaning you’ve changed. For the better. Which is something we humans have to do as long as we’re alive. There’s nothing more to be gained by flogging yourself this way. And it’s kind of disgusting, actually. Just suck it up and do the har
d thing. The really hard thing.”

  “Which is what?”

  “Which is apologize. And realize that apologizing might not be good enough, and that you might have lost a friend.”

  North’s face drained.

  “Because that’s really what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?” Sherrilyn pursued. “That you’ve destroyed one of the few things that matters to you in this world, that makes it worth getting up every day: your friendship with Liam. When you can face that, Thomas North, then you’ll be a man. Again.”

  Sherrilyn stood up, turned her back—and caught a brief glimpse of North’s thunderstruck expression as she did—and marched out of the room.

  ****

  Life at Sea in the Old and New Time Lines: Part 1, Providing Nourishment

  by Iver Cooper

  In September, 1773, Samuel Johnson wrote, "A man in a jail has more room, better food, and commonly better company" than a sailor (Boswell, Life of Johnson 112).

  Insofar as shipboard food (and drink) are concerned, the most important impact of up-time knowledge in the long term is that we will be able to substantially reduce passage times. The shorter the passage, the less food and drink need be stowed, and the less likely it is that vitamin deficiencies will develop during the course of the passage. However, Grantville literature will reveal the causes and remedies of vitamin deficiencies, improved methods of preserving and storing foods, and the practicality of obtaining fresh water by distillation while at sea.

  Here, we'll look at provisioning in the old time line (distinguishing where possible between pre- and post-1631 practice) and also speculate on what can be done in the new time line.

  ****

  Drink

  According to the Institute of Medicine and the World Health Organization, an average (70 kg) healthy, adult male needs to drink a minimum of about 3 liters of fluid a day in a temperate climate and in a tropical one, 4-6 liters (Mayo Clinic, Grandjean, Gleick). Exercise also increases the water requirement. As we will see, the food served was frequently salted to preserve it, which would have increased demand.

  The drinking water is to replenish fluid lost by sweating (possibly elevated by fever), urination, and, in case of sickness, vomiting and diarrhea. Thirst occurs when net fluid loss reaches 1% of body weight, and reduced work capacity occurs at 4%. Collapse can occur at 7% (Grandjean).

  In the Spanish navy in 1568, the daily ration included a liter of water and a liter of wine (Perez-Mallaina 141). The sailors had to weigh whether to drink their wine, a source of additional calories and some solace from hardships or save it for sale in America. The French likewise took their liquor ration as wine (rouge, s'il vous plaît) (Spalding 70).

  In 1636, the Amsterdam Admiralty declared that for each month at sea, a ship carrying 100 men had to carry 35 barrels of beer in winter and 42 in summer.

  The British have a daily ration of one "gallon" (Childs 87; at least by the eighteenth century, measured as 14 fluid ounces because the remainder was the purser's profit) of beer (or occasionally ale or cider). Or, if they are in the benighted Mediterranean, one pint of wine. The capture of Jamaica in 1655 meant that rum became the beverage of choice. Not only was it cheap, it was more potent than beer and thus kept for long periods in wooden barrels. Up until 1740, the sailor could drink it straight (if the captain permitted), but after that the Admiralty required it be mixed with water, creating the famous ‘grog’; the men received two quarts of grog each day (Swinburne, 309-10; Pope 150, 153; militaryhistroynow.com). After 1810, lemon or lime juice was routinely added to the grog (Spalding 70).

  One advantage of beer over water is that the boiling during the brewing process rendered it free of bacteria. Wine, of course, was not boiled, but its greater alcohol content itself inhibited bacterial growth. Brandy or rum of course would be even more potent (affecting both bacteria and sailors) and would have been initially sterilized by the distillation process.

  But alcoholic beverages were more expensive than water, and over-indulgence could impair crew performance or discipline.

  And rum, at least, presented a fire hazard; in 1779, on the Glasgow, the purser's steward, while stealing rum from the aft hold, accidentally dropped a light into the cask and started a fire—a bad thing to do on any ship, but the Glasgow was shipping gunpowder to Jamaica … .(Sugden 139)

  Tea and cocoa were sometimes issued in the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century British navy, but they were considered substitutes for cheese (Macdonald 43).

  In any event, the water required for a warship on an extended voyage was considerable; "a sloop with a crew of 135 usually carried about forty tons of fresh water and expected it to last three months, using it at a rate of about half a ton a day" (Pope 171). (The Royal Navy used the 28-day lunar month, Macdonald 78.) The rate of usage would vary, depending on the air temperature, and of course attrition due to combat, disease, and desertion.

  Water Storage. In the 1630s, water is stowed in wooden casks. Such casks may leak or become fouled by bacteria and algae. Or worse; on the nineteenth century Boston-based sailing ship Regulus, there was an infestation of rats, which chewed holes in the water casks and then fell in (not exactly improving the taste) (Schultz 95). And in the tropics, open water barrels served as breeding ground for the larvae of the Aedes aegyptii mosquito.

  There were a variety of countermeasures for fouling. Pre-RoF these might have included charring and painting of the inside surface prior to use, and sulfurization. The latter practice is better known in its application to wine barrels; sulfur would be burnt inside the barrels to generate sulfur dioxide, which kills bacteria. Beginning in 1800, efforts were made (on some ships) to filter the water, or to deodorize it with charcoal and powdered lime (Goethe 8). Various substances, even gunpowder, were also added as preservatives (Wagner 62).

  Casks were of a roughly cylindrical shape with a bulge at the middle. This shape made it easy to roll them and also to change the direction of the roll. They were formed of wood (typically oak) staves bound with iron hoops. They can be divided into wet casks for liquids and dry casks for solids, the former being made to narrower tolerances and therefore being more expensive. The seven standard English liquid (originally, wine) cask sizes, and their relationships, were as follows:

  1 tun = 2 butts (pipes) = 3 puncheons = 4 hogsheads (quarters) = 6 tierces = 8 barrels = 14 rundlets.

  In the 1630s the tun is 252 wine gallons, and a tun full of wine weighs about one long ton (2240 pounds) (Wikipedia; Knight 62).

  The price of oak staves climbed from 105 pounds per thousand in 1793 to 156 in 1805, leading to the substitution of beech and white oak for dry casks.

  Typically, a ship would carry an assortment of water casks of different capacity. The 74 gun USS Franklin, in 1821, carried 10 casks each of 250, 200 and 50-gallon capacity, 130 of 100, 30 each of 40, 20 and 15 gallons, and 70 of 8 gallons—a total of 33,860 gallons (Williams 308). Most of the water barrels would be placed deep in the hold, serving as a form of ballast. Hence, as they were emptied, they would be refilled with seawater for the sake of stability.

  The wooden barrels used to store water were not necessarily pristine. During the nineteenth-century Atlantic migrations, drinking "water was stored in old sugar hogsheads, in oil casks which had never been cleaned, in vinegar, molasses and turpentine barrels." (Wagner 62).

  Square wooden water tanks were apparently used in ships built at Surat in the eighteenth century, and that shape would have avoided the waste of deck space by the interstices of the casks laid against each other (Layman). In fact, fixed wooden water tanks (fintas) were still being used on the Arabian Gulf in the twentieth century (Agua 142).

  Metal water tanks were less prone to leakage and fouling, but of course were heavier and more expensive. In addition, since they were larger, it was harder to shift them around in order to adjust the trim of the ship as supplies were consumed and cargo loaded or unloaded. (Being able to pump water from one tank to another would help; I'll talk about pumpin
g in a later part.)

  The tank being larger, if it were only partially full, it would create a greater "free surface effect." In essence, when the ship heels over, the center of gravity of the water inside shifts, reducing the vessel's stability. The effect can be reduced by 75% by dividing the tank into two parts by means of a watertight bulkhead. (The effect was small in the old barrels because they were so small.)

  The 600-ton British sloops-of-war Arrow and Dart, built by Sir Samuel Bentham in 1795-7, had eight tinned copper water tanks, each holding forty tons of water, which proved successful in preserving the sweetness of the water, and had double the capacity of casks taking up the same amount of deck space. (Chalmers, Bentham 238, Macdonald 85) Reportedly, they were too thin-walled to stand without support, and therefore were placed in wood casings (MM 39). There was also apparently some problem with leakage, as there is an 1804 letter from Nelson saying, "if the tanks cannot be repaired, water casks must be substituted in their room." (Macdonald 85).

  Despite the widespread the use of copper pots for cooking on shipboard, copper tanks didn't catch on. I suspect that copper was used for cooking because its higher heat conductivity justified its use despite a higher density and cost than iron, but iron was better for cold water storage. Still, the Leonora (lost 1874) had "several copper-clad wooden water tanks” (Lenihan 164).

  Richard Trevithick proposed use of iron tanks in an 1808 patent application, which pointed out that iron walls could be thinner than wooden ones (Trevithick 1:285). The next year, his company approached the British Victualling Board, pointing out that the iron tanks were cheaper than their wooden equivalents of the same capacity. The Admiralty had the tanks fitted into five vessels and after five years' experience, concluded that the tanks were superior (Macdonald BNVB 102).

  Their introduction in the new timeline will no doubt be more rapid, but bear in mind that the demand for iron is going to skyrocket, and it is not clear how soon the supply will catch up.