Chapter 14: Through the Middle Ages 014

Chapter 14: Through the Middle Ages 014

Swan Manor, Spring Plowing Season

With the crow of a rooster, Simon, a free farmer at the head of Stone Bridge Village, rose quickly. In this small medieval village, there was no trouble waking up early—ordinary people had no nightlife, especially during the busy farming season. After a day of hard work, they would fall asleep almost immediately.

Even during the busy farming period, there might be some extra work, but it wouldn't be too late. Some tasks could be done without much lighting, but if people weren't tired, the oxen would be!

A very practical point: although modern workers joke about being 'beasts of burden,' in agricultural society, oxen and horses were far more valuable than humans! Moreover, humans have the stamina to keep going, but oxen and horses do not; they simply can't do what they can't do. If you force oxen and horses to keep going, they can literally drop dead!

The result of going to bed early is that no matter how tired you were the day before, you would have slept enough. This was during the busy farming season; during the off-season, people in the village would wake up in the middle of the night, do something, and then go back to sleep.

"...I think this won't work out!" Simon's wife whispered while her husband was gulping down beer and bread.

To avoid breaking the nighttime fast, most commoners did not eat breakfast at this time. Farmers had to work in the morning, which was heavy physical labor, so they would only drink a cup of beer, as the church said, "liquids do not break the fast."

Beer was already known as 'liquid bread,' providing plenty of energy. Moreover, homemade beer back then was often very thick (with the grains used in brewing still in it), almost like porridge. And since it was the busy farming season, besides a cup of beer, the main laborer in the family could also eat a slice of black bread.

Simon knew what she was talking about—it was just that last winter, someone from the castle had come over and ordered the manor steward to urge the serfs to compost. Everyone had been composting for years and were familiar with it, so when a lord from the castle suddenly came to instruct them on this, few were hopeful.

However, most of that compost was to be used on the lord's own land, so no one really cared. Besides, according to the rules, serfs had to perform two or three days of labor for the lord each week, so what difference did it make what work they did?

The reason Simon's wife brought this up today was because during the early spring plowing period, everyone had to plow the fertilizer into the fields while plowing—strangely, in previous years, everyone's private plots and the lord's own land were busy at the same time, so it often happened that during critical periods, the manor steward would have to draft labor to work on the lord's own land.

If there was no other choice, the manor steward generally wouldn't give such an order. Not only was it very offensive, but the serfs assigned to work on the lord's own land often couldn't work with peace of mind, and their efficiency was quite low.

But sometimes you just had to make a choice.

This year was different. The manor steward did not draft people to work on the lord's own land. Instead, he waited until the busiest period of spring plowing was almost over before having everyone begin their labor duties in the past couple of days. Of course, the labor owed from the busy spring plowing period had to be made up, akin to 'compensatory time.'

Now, it was a bit late to start preparing to plant wheat, rye, and other grains.

"That's the lords' business, it has nothing to do with us... Speaking of which, what are they going to plant on the lord's own land?" Simon mused aloud.

They certainly didn't think the manor steward had shown kindness by letting everyone finish their own private plots before working on the lord's land. It was easy to guess that this year, the lord's own land wasn't going to be planted with grains, and another crop's spring planting time was slightly later than wheat and other crops.

"I heard from the people at the mill that someone from the castle came and brought some beet seeds, and all the lord's own land is going to be planted with beets!" Simon's wife exclaimed. She was a lively person who could talk to anyone, even the miller, who was hated by all in the manor.

In the manor at this time, after farmers milled their grain at the mill, they had to pay a portion to the lord. No one was happy that their hard-earned harvest was being taken away, which was why millers were always one of the most hated people in the manor—because of the mill tax, everyone tried to avoid milling their grain at the mill.

Either they crafted hand mills and secretly milled their grain, which was less efficient but at least they avoided exploitation, or they simply didn't eat bread or ate less, and cooked porridge directly with the harvested grain.

"Oh, beets... The steward did say that this year's rent could be paid with harvested beet roots, but not the red beet kind. Those who are willing can go get the seeds. Heh, the so-called 'noble lords' are actually preparing seeds!" Simon finished the last sip of his beer and grinned mockingly.

For these farmers, whether serfs or free men, the so-called 'noble lords' had always exploited them as much as possible! Now they were actually giving out seeds—what a rare act of 'kindness'!

"...Those seeds were collected from nearby villages, and I heard the roots will be bigger and sweeter." Simon's wife shared her plan: "I figured that paying the rent with beet roots is more cost-effective. Don't we still have a piece of land that hasn't been planted? Let's use it to plant beets!"

These beets were what Louisa had ordered Swan Manor to plant, but the seeds brought by the convent weren't enough even for the manor's own land. If they wanted the farmers in the manor to also plant beets, they had to use other seeds. These seeds were collected, and the harvested beets were probably similar to what Louisa and her team had bought in the surrounding areas.

Although the yield and sugar content were meager, because the price of sugar was high enough, the profits were still astonishing.

"As long as the land is fertile, the roots will naturally grow big and sweet." Simon was dismissive of the so-called "high-quality seeds."

In a sense, his view wasn't wrong. Although there were differences in seed quality at this time, compared to the short-term selection of seeds with not-so-obvious advantages, factors like water, heat, and soil fertility had a much greater impact on the harvest.

Modern agricultural products are the same—the terrifyingly high yields all depend on fertilizers! After all, everything has to follow science, and energy is conserved. Without fertilizer, how could so many crops be grown?

All kinds of new seeds are good, but once there's no fertilizer, a halving of yield is a light consequence! That's why countries that need to import fertilizers are so troubled—agriculture is greatly affected by international market fluctuations.

"Did you figure it out? Hmm, beetroots require more land than grains. Either we need to use more fertilizer to enrich the soil, or we have to put more effort into soil maintenance and fallow periods... Is it still more cost-effective when all these are considered?" Simon asked his wife.

At this time, beetroots did not have the yield and sweetness of later generations, but relatively, they were not as depleting on the land. They were considered a type of vegetable now, requiring no more care than other root vegetables—vegetable gardens were different from crop fields, needing more meticulous care and more water and fertilizer.

The farmer's wife was also a farmer, equally familiar with matters of the land. Simon's wife had naturally considered these as well. She nodded and said, "I’ve figured it out. We’ve grown beetroots before..."

Besides the leased arable land, there was often a small plot in front of the farmstead used to grow vegetables for the family for personal consumption, and sometimes to raise some poultry and livestock. The most commonly grown crops on these farmstead vegetable plots were cabbages, onions, garlic, celery, etc. Beetroots were not the most common, but they were not rare either.

"Alright, let’s use that plot for beetroots... Hopefully, it will give us some surplus this year," Simon muttered, but loud enough for his wife to hear. She planned to fetch the seeds soon.

Just as Simon and his wife, along with many farmers in Swan Manor, were considering planting some beetroots, Louisa arrived with some helpers... She came to inspect the beetroot planting situation and to make some preparations for the establishment of a sugar workshop.

Louisa stepped down from the carriage, and in front of the manor court were the parish priest, the manor steward, the headman, the agricultural officer, the constable, and others who had been waiting to greet her.

The parish priest, needless to say, was indispensable in people's lives at this time, even in villages where churches and priests were essential in the village. However, some villages were small, and several neighboring villages shared one church.

In the vast and fertile plains of Brudo, the population was relatively dense, especially in the manor of Count Balzac, where the villages were quite large. Swan Manor alone comprised several villages of a hundred households each, so although the villages within the manor shared one church, this church was built of stone, beautifully carved, with a towering steeple and a considerable area, not inferior to some town churches.

This wasn’t unusual, as many towns at this time had populations of one to two thousand, on par with Swan Manor.

Because of the special status of religion, the parish priest stood in front of everyone, just as it was generally accepted that religious nobles were regarded more highly than their secular counterparts. Of course, status was one thing, and actual power was another.

Standing behind the parish priest was the 'spokesperson' of the manor, the manor steward. To make an analogy to ancient China, this would be the county magistrate, overseeing everything in principle, meaning he could manage anything within the manor.

Generally, manor stewards were the younger sons of ordinary knight families, unable to become knights and with no land to inherit. If they did not want to become priests or monks, they would seek their own livelihood. However, there were also freemen who could become manor stewards, possibly the children of merchants or craftsmen, who had received an education and had the foundation to be manor stewards.

Like the county magistrates of ancient China, local officials generally could not serve in their hometowns, so the manor steward was also an outsider. This made it harder for him to deceive the lord above and less likely to oppress the farmers in the manor recklessly—this brings us to the headman of the manor.

The headman was similar to the leading clerks in the county yamen of ancient China, rooted locally as a local authority. On one hand, they assisted the main official, and on the other, as local bosses, they were more stable than the main official. They reported directly to the lord (though they usually could not reach the lord directly, only the lord's agents). If the manor steward went too far, they could report to higher authorities or even rally the farmers to resist by force.

There were cases where some abusive manor stewards were beaten or even driven out of the manor by the headman and his men. Once such an incident occurred, regardless of who was right or wrong, the manor steward could no longer continue—it was clear that he could not control or manage the manor.

Below the headman and the manor steward, such as the agricultural officer, the constable, the forester, etc., need not be mentioned, analogous to the ordinary clerks in the county yamen, responsible for specific tasks in the manor.