A Bit of History
John Henry
When John Henry was a small child he picked up his first hammer, and never set the hammer down, until the day he died (unless the song ends with something like, "died with his hammer in his hand"). As a steel driver, his job was to hammer spikes and chisels as part of railroad construction, reinforcing something little understood today, the building of the great railroads was a contradiction. On the one hand you have this amazing new technology of the locomotive, an improvement in transportation that revolutionized how goods and people were moved, as well as connected far flung regions together in ways that they could never have been before. On the other hand, you have the actual work of building the rail lines, which was often of the most simple, rudimentary, and backbreaking sort. The men and women (largely immigrant and poor, at least in the United States) who actually laid the track used tools that have been with humanity for eons, shovels, hammer, chisels, levers, axes, and knives.
As one such worker, John Henry (and there is no proof he ever existed, but I like to think he did) represented the lowest and poorest of the laborer class. He possessed no special skills other than the ability to swing a hammer, no education, little chance of advancement, and was of African descent, thus moving him below even the Irish and Germans (but maybe above the Chinese, sources varied as to degrees of early Republic racism). According to some sources, John Henry may have even been a prisoner released to work on the railroads as part of his sentence.
The central tenet of the story is that John Henry was a regular guy, a common laborer, although one of exceptional strength and endurance. In the tale that so many songs have created variations of, John Henry challenged a steam drill, raced it and won, but died in the end due to the strain and exertion. Usually, he makes some form of simple speech about the dignity of honest labor, though in more recent versions John Henry makes an appeal to his fellow workers concerning the loss of their jobs and thus food for their families. Many versions also place either the steel drill inventor or the railroad boss in a poor light, ranging from slightly condescending antagonist to nearly mustache twirling villain intent on breaking up the work gangs and replacing them with machines.
For your game, there are a lot of approaches to take. In a near future campaign, an asteroid miner's union or some other organization could take up the imagery and symbolism of John Henry in their bid to keep robots, androids, drones, clones, or aliens out of the workplace, and thus preserve humanity and human labor. Fantasy settings can use the same material as a plea against the corrupting power of magic (and those wizards will leave you unemployed, what with their constructs, spirit servants, and ungodly arcane magics). A zombie hunter who uses a hammer to bash down the baddies may even hum this song as he works, provided he is appropriately blue collar to do so.
The Blacksmith of Brandywine
This tale dates back to at least the 1840's, if not earlier. There is no historical evidence backing the story, but its still a good tale, and has been made into a number of songs, though not nearly as many as the legend of John Henry. This unnamed blacksmith is described as a peaceful man, a patriot (i.e. a member of the Revolution), but one who refused to fight. Although it is never stated in the various versions of the story, I like to think he may have bee a Quaker or a member of some other pacifist faith. His love for his wife and son are often emphasized early in the story and treated as if it was greater than what other men felt. While shoeing horses for some travelers, he overheard them discussing a plot to kidnap General Washington. Acting on this knowledge, he rode all night to the Continental Army camp and warned Washington of the plot. Arriving home the next morning, the blacksmith discovered his home and business burnt and his wife and child slain by British troops (occasionally versions of the story make the offending soldiers Hessian mercenaries). In sorrow and rage, he marched to the sound of battle armed only with a mighty two-handed sledgehammer (being a peaceable man he obviously did not own a gun). There he charged the British line, felling Redcoats left and right, aided by his great strength, rage, and amazing size (the blacksmith is often described as a giant of a man). Mortally wounded, he passed out, only to be revived by a passing stranger (sometimes a militia or Continental soldier). With his dying breath, he begs the stranger to prop him against an oak tree, arm him with a rifle, and let him cover the Continental Army's retreat from the Battle of Brandywine. The blacksmith is found dead the next day, his body against the tree, his hands clutching the rifle and ramrod, half a bitten cartridge in his mouth.
What we have here is a folk tale and song that likely is not true. There are many clues, such as the adoration often given to General Washington, a man who was not terribly popular in the early years of the American War for Independence, but who gained great popularity after he began winning battles. Still, it makes a great story, and would be the perfect origin story for a superhero. Change the battle, occupation, and war to suit, but keep the hammer and 'giant' size. Even keeping the war, this would make an awesome background for a character in a super powered or highly supernatural campaign set during the War or even the Early Republic eras (The Blacksmith, Screaming Mad Anthony Wayne, Two Pistols Kosciuszko, and Pitcher Molly battle the Terrible Tories as Washington tries to rescue Boy Lafayette from the clutches of The Lion).
Johnny Appleseed
Unlike the tales above, there is a lot of truth about this one. Johnny Appleseed, whose birth name was John Chapman, was a real person, and although many of the deeds attributed to him were embellished or flat out made up, he did accomplish real and amazing deeds in his lifetime. Born in 1770 in Massachusetts, Johnny Appleseed's father fought in the War for American Independence, and afterwards apprenticed Johnny to an orchard owner. After reaching adulthood, Johnny set out into the frontier, in those days the Old Northwest Territory and Western Pennsylvania. He traveled about, acting as a missionary, living a subsistence diet, and planting apple (and sometimes pear) orchards across the wild lands.
This itself would make for an interesting story, but the corpus of legends, myths, and frankly tall tales that have grown up around Johnny Appleseed (some which are true) paint a picture of something, and someone, amazing. First, he is said to have been a friend to all animals, even those often considered pests. Once, he put out a fire because mosquitoes and other fly insects were dying as they flew into it. That he did this with his 'tin cap' a metal pot he used to cook with and wore as a hat, makes it even more memorable. You see, Johnny did not just wander about planting and tending apple orchards, he lived as a 'primitive Christian', with hardly any possessions aside from his tin cap, a satchel to hold some food and water, a stout stick, and some apple seeds. Often he is depicted as wandering the wilds barefoot and clad in a sack or rags, many illustrations show his legs as bare to the knee and his only raiment being a burlap tunic (a hair shirt of types, one would assume). Supposedly he was a vegetarian, and he would often show up to come to the aid of animals, both tame and wild. Stories persist that Johnny would purchase horses that were lame and about to be put down, turn them loose in pasture land he also purchased (based on the property he left in his will, John Chapman held title to a lot of valuable land on the frontier, though other than horses and orchards he seemed to not care much about it), and let the horse recover before selling it to a kinder owner. Numerous tales abound of Johnny helping injured wild animals, of animals seeking him out to be cured of injury, and even of Johnny Appleseed choosing to sleep in the snow rather than turn a bear and her cubs out of their den (and sleeping unmolested near said den). Johnny Chapman is buried in Fort Wayne Indiana, though his place of death is debated. It is likely he was in advanced years at the time of his death, around seventy-five years of age.
The life and legends of Johnny Appleseed would make great inspiration for a druid or other nature priest in just about any fantasy game. Likewise, this peaceful, kind, and generous man could be the focus of an entire campaign, for example, the party needs to find the Johnny Appleseed of their world, lest evil forces capture him and use his powers (plant based of course) to upset the balance of nature. Sci-fi games can have their own Johnny Appleseed, perhaps an early explorer who terraformed planets, maybe even a non-human who travels amongst the frontier worlds and preaches peace and harmony, plus apples, lots of apples.
I hope you have enjoyed your bit of musical history. Next month we'll look more at the Early Republic era, with its Whiskey Rebellions, St. Clair's Defeat, and the First, Last, and Only Charge of the Indiana Mounted Riflemen. Are you looking forward to Christmas? I know I am, and I want games for Christmas (and maybe an ascot or fez, but mostly games). What games should you put on your wish list for Santa? In early December I will answer that question for you with a range of games submitted by generous publishers: Godlike from Arc Dream Publishing, Cthulhu by Gaslight from Chaosium, a whole bunch of Clockwork and Chivalry titles from Cubicle 7, Achtung! Cthulhu from Modiphius, and Iron Kingdoms from Privateer Press (for the inspired by history category).

