Frederick had a problem he hadn't noticed, and no one else had paid much attention to it either. They just thought he was a child who didn't know enough yet.
His standards for the precision of industrial products were too high. He hadn't considered the actual level of technology they had at the moment.
This was especially true of screw production. He kept using the standards of the world after the third industrial revolution as his benchmark.
What's more, the fellow had forgotten the "rivets" in "more rivets, steam, and steel."
In the end, Aumert had to tell him that the screws didn't need to be made with such precision. Only then could the "Frederick Pot" finally take shape in its initial form.
"But we're short on workers." Aumert sounded helpless. "There's too much to do right now. Both the smithy and the carpentry shop need people."
Frederick realized he was right, so he called Bryant over and asked, "We're short on people everywhere. Do you know where we could recruit blacksmiths?"
Bryant was just as helpless. "More than half the blacksmiths in the territory have already come here. If we recruit any more, there'll be no one left to repair the farm tools."
"If we want more people, we can only recruit young men who don't know how to do anything."
"But we won't be able to put them to work right away. They'll have to do some backbreaking labor alongside us while they learn. It'll take two and a half years before they're any good."
"Everyone's busy right now. If old man Auerbach and old man Jackson weren't so old, I'd want to ask them to come back."
Frederick frowned. Craftsmen in this era learned through master-apprentice relationships. But skilled blacksmiths like Bryant had to work and train apprentices at the same time, which made training inefficient. Apprentices had to spend at least two and a half years hammering iron alongside their masters before they could handle even the simplest, least technical jobs on their own.
"How about this?" Frederick said. "I'll ask Auerbach and Jackson to come back and train the young people we recruit. They can do some simple jobs on the side, too. What do you think?"
Bryant's expression turned strange. He seemed to want to say something, but didn't dare. In the end, he gave a perfunctory reply. "The new workers aren't strong enough yet. It'll take at least a year to build up their strength."
Frederick could tell something was up. "Is there something I don't know?"
Bryant glanced around. Basf had already gone off to look for the slimes, and Aumert tactfully stepped away. Only then did he lower his voice and say, "My lord, the guild might not agree."
After Bryant explained, Frederick understood what was going on.
Like the other guilds, the Blacksmiths' Guild was organized around a trade. It upheld the principles of solidarity, friendship, and mutual assistance, and managed the employment and workmanship standards of craftsmen in the trade.
The Blacksmiths' Guild was made up of established blacksmiths like Bryant, at least ordinary blacksmiths. Rough-handed apprentices didn't qualify for membership.
If an ordinary person wanted to become a blacksmith, they first had to register with the Blacksmiths' Guild and have it assign them a master—unless someone recommended one. If the master and apprentice had already reached an agreement, they would register together with the guild.
Every guild had a rule that each master could take on only three to five apprentices.
When an apprentice was ready to graduate, their master had to put in an application. The guild would then assess them, and only those who passed could officially become blacksmiths.
At work, the relationship between master and apprentice also had another side to it: the master was like a foreman, and the apprentice like a laborer. When the master took on a job, they would pass some of it to the apprentice, along with a share of the pay.
The smithy of the Weissen family was, in practice, a group made up of blacksmith foremen. Bryant, a newly promoted foreman, was now in charge. He assigned work to each crew, making the smithy essentially a collection of small workshops with only basic coordination between them.
At the same time, the master craftsmen had the authority to decide whether their apprentices were ready to graduate. That left room for backroom deals.
Frederick's idea of recruiting a batch of newcomers and having retired blacksmiths train them went against both the master-apprentice tradition and the economic system. The guild might not agree, and the blacksmiths probably wouldn't like it either.
Basic coordination didn't change the tools or methods of labor used in the small workshops; it only brought the workers together under Frederick's direction.
To increase the productive forces, new machines were not enough. They also needed new relations of production.
More advanced than small workshops was manufacture, a form of production based on manual skills and the division of labor among wage workers. It had nothing to do with master-apprentice relationships. Its organization already resembled that of a capitalist enterprise. Manufacture was capitalism's first cry, the initial stage of the factory.
If the refugee crisis weren't about to arrive, Frederick would have started making gradual reforms.
But he couldn't do that now. A rash reform would certainly cause unrest, and if it coincided with the refugees' arrival, it could lead to serious trouble. For the moment, he would have to find another way to solve the problem.
Frederick returned to the castle before dinner and summoned the steward.
He asked Ah Fu, "Can I interfere in the affairs of the guilds in the territory?"
Ah Fu answered with a puzzled look, "My lord, you can manage anything in your territory. Who said you couldn't?"
Frederick asked again, "What if the guilds don't do as I say?"
Ah Fu was even more puzzled. "If a hunting dog disobeys, you kill it and replace it with one that obeys."
"My lord's territory isn't a free city like Nuremberg. The guilds don't have that much influence."
Frederick blinked. At last, he understood the situation.
He often forgot one thing: he was now part of the landowning class, a member of the ruling class. In his territory, he was an absolute lord who could do as he pleased. He could even restore the right of the first night and extend it to men, if he wanted.
The craft guilds were nothing more than tools for managing the common people. He could handle them however he liked.
Once he had thought it through, Frederick said to Ah Fu, "Tell the heads of all the guilds to come see me tomorrow afternoon."
Ah Fu bowed to his lord, then sent people to notify the guild leaders.
The next afternoon, the heads of the Blacksmiths', Carpenters', Stonemasons', Tailors', Cooks', Coachmen's, Dockworkers', and other guilds all came to the castle. They stood in a line in the sitting room, their backs hunched and hardly daring to breathe. None dared look their lord in the eye.
Seeing them like that, Frederick no longer felt like saying much.
"There are two things you all know about." Frederick's face was expressionless. "First, starting this autumn, we'll be digging a canal through the territory. We've already reached an agreement with the Stonemasons' Guild in Nuremberg."
"Once the canal opens, countless cargo ships will pass through our territory. Then I won't be the only one making money. Every trade will be able to profit."
"I'll make this clear now: anyone who gets in the way of the canal project is going against me—and against everyone in Wessen Territory!"
As he spoke, Frederick looked around. Everyone still wore the same cautious, attentive expressions.
He continued, "The second thing is that a lot of people will be arriving in Wessen Territory soon."
"I know what you've all been saying in private. I also know some of you plan to take advantage of the situation and trick yourselves into getting a wife."
"I'll make this clear: the newcomers are all unfortunate people. Once they arrive in Wessen Territory, they're my subjects. We all have to make a living in the same place. No one here is any more noble than anyone else."
"[Wessen Territory swear word]! If we're talking about nobility, who could be nobler than me?"
"From then on, I'll treat everyone equally, no matter who breaks the law."
"Especially you guilds. Anyone who joins your trade must be treated as a local."
"As more people come and go through the territory, every trade will need more workers."
"We already don't have enough people, especially blacksmiths and carpenters. Next, we'll be short on stonemasons, tailors, cooks, and coachmen, too."
"To increase our workforce, I'm announcing a few new laws."
"First, the limit on how many apprentices a master can take on is abolished, effective immediately."
"Second, the minimum wage set by each guild will also apply to apprentices."
"[Wessen Territory swear word]! Someone was beaten to death in the middle of the night a few days ago. Don't think I don't know what happened."
"Third, each guild will establish technical grades and assessment standards for its workers: apprentice, ordinary, skilled, fine, epic, and legendary. The corresponding badges will be gray, white, green, blue, purple, and orange."
"I'll say this again: these standards must be strict, they must be accepted by everyone, and they must win recognition across the entire continent!"
"Fourth, each guild must draw up a charter for setting up a training school. Find a group of experienced craftsmen to teach both local youths and newcomers. If you have questions, ask Weissenburg University."
"Today is July 15. The first draft of each charter must be submitted to me by August 1. I'll approve them within three days. Within fifteen days of my approval, you must submit final charters that follow my instructions."
"If you can't do it, I'll replace you with someone who can."
"I'm done. If anyone has an objection, speak up. We can discuss it."
"Once you leave this room, you'll carry out my orders, objections or not. If anyone tries to pull something behind my back, heh. Go ahead and see what happens."
After speaking, Frederick narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze over everyone present.
In his previous life, he had worked in the construction industry. He knew that without authority, managing people could go badly. For a moment, it felt as if he had returned to those days.
Ah Fu had stood behind him the whole time. He was a little surprised; he hadn't expected his young lord to have such an imposing presence.
Richard Nahl stood outside the door. He had planned to back up his apprentice if necessary, but it seemed that wouldn't be needed.
Psyche watched from the side with a lollipop in her mouth, smiling as she said, "Don't underestimate that little guy."
Almost none of the guild leaders dared to object. Only one burly arm trembled as it went up.
"M-My lord..." The head of the Dockworkers' Guild spoke haltingly. "W-We just do hard labor. What grades could we possibly have?"
Frederick glared at him and said coldly, "Aren't there enough young men among you who've thrown out their backs? Damn it, who was it last month that threw a box of glass jars on the ground, then couldn't afford to pay for it and hanged himself? When was the last time someone died after a pile of cargo collapsed on them?"
"Don't give me that. Surely you can come up with two grades: apprentice and ordinary?"
The head of the Dockworkers' Guild had nothing to say. Sweat ran down his face as he lowered his head.
"Any other questions?" Frederick looked around. After a moment, he waved them off. "If not, go back and get started."
Once everyone had left, Frederick picked up his teacup and took a sip.
Sometimes, being a lord was great. You just handed out the assignments, and if your subordinates couldn't get them done, you kicked their asses.
Small-scale reforms were easy enough, too. There were plenty of lords who liked to tinker with things. Frederick's grandfather had once collected the beautiful tail feathers of pheasants to decorate his hat.
Traditions sometimes started because some lord on a whim had done something long ago. If his descendants didn't change it, they just kept wearing it.
Before you continue