The Woman at the Wheel by Penny Haw EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: Penny Haw
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Biographical Fiction
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- Size: 2 MB
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1859
Pforzheim, Germany
I was ten years old when I fell upon five words that changed the way I saw
the world.
At the time, my parents, Karl and Auguste Ringer, had seven children.
Our number would rise to nine when Thekla was born in 1862, followed by
Julius in 1864. Given how occupied our father was as Pforzheim’s
preeminent master builder, it might’ve seemed incongruous that he had the
energy to spawn so many of us. Certainly, Vater had little time to spare.
Pforzheim was already so entrenched as the hub of Germany’s jewelry
and watchmaking industries that it had been dubbed the “Golden City.” Our
town, on the northern edge of the Black Forest, was also abuzz with
preparations for inclusion on the Karlsruhe–Mühlacker railway line.
Accustomed to dodging businessmen checking their pocket watches in the
streets, we were also growing used to the increased clatter of trolleys, carts,
and carriages carrying materials to build the new transport system.
As they were leaving Vater’s study one day, my father and his
colleagues spoke about what the railway might mean, not only for
Pforzheim but also for Germany. I was halfway down the stairs when I
heard them agree that the train was much more than a method of
transportation.
“It’ll open new worlds to many,” said the tallest, leanest man among
them. As they walked toward the front door, he explained that, whereas
only the wealthy and powerful could afford to travel by horse and coach,
the locomotive would allow many others to move across the country with
greater ease.
I peered over the wooden handrail and saw my father and the others
nodding.
“It doesn’t matter that few understand how it works,” continued the
man. “When people lose their fear of the locomotive and recognize the
advantages it offers, everything will change for them. Already, things are
changing.”
There was more nodding and some affirmative grunting before the
group disappeared, leaving me with thoughts of hordes of men, women, and
children clambering into train carriages, in search of new worlds. It was
exciting.
Indeed, business was booming in Pforzheim, and Vater was making the
most of it. Most days, he was gone before dawn sprinkled its early light on
the Enz River. He came home after the streetlamps were lit. However, when
our father was with my mother, siblings, and me in the large, fashionable
house he’d built us, he was generous and affectionate. Vater was also
forthcoming, if rather self-engrossed, and inclined to talk primarily about
his work.
His lengthy discourses about his clients (mostly wealthy), projects
(largely elaborate), building materials (typically expensive), and new
techniques (always brilliant) were acknowledged with indistinct mumbles
and nods from my mother and sisters. My brothers were too young to feign
interest. I, however, was fascinated by Vater’s work and his stories about it.
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