Chapter 15: Journey Through the Middle Ages, Part 15

At this time, the prevailing economy was based on manorial estates, with lords establishing numerous large and small estates across their territories. Top-tier nobles like Count Balzac possessed countless estates. Among them, the most important was, of course, White Lake Manor, located not far from the Brudo court. The produce from its demesne lands, along with surplus from other tenant holdings, was supplied to the Brudo court.

And that was still not enough! Even though White Lake Manor was already a super-large estate... This speaks volumes about the massive consumption of the court.

In the Vascon kingdom, the unit of land measurement was the “Bonnier,” which, to Louisa, was roughly equivalent to one hectare from her previous life. At this time, manors in Vascon generally measured a few hundred Bonniers in size, with some smaller than 100 Bonniers, and fewer than twenty percent exceeding 500 Bonniers.

White Lake Manor, however, spanned over three thousand Bonniers! Even if there were larger estates—especially royal ones, each bigger than the last—this was still an extreme case, ranking among the super-large estates.

Naturally, the reason White Lake Manor was so vast was to sustain the Brudo court. The court was sizable, and without adequate local output, supplies would need to be transported from elsewhere—a difficult task given the transportation costs of the time.

Compared to White Lake Manor, Swan Manor, also located in Troyes but a bit farther from the court, was not as large. Yet it was still considerable, with land deeds showing 1,557 Bonniers—about 1,557 hectares or roughly 23,355 acres.

Within this, there were 9 Bonniers of residential land (including the manor villa, chapel, and farmhouses), 288 Bonniers of the lord’s demesne, 240 Bonniers of woodland, 18 Bonniers of pasture, and the largest and most important portion: 1,002 Bonniers of rented arable land. Almost all the peasants living on the estate were tenant farmers, whether serfs or free peasants.

Such a vast area did not even include wasteland and common land, so the actual manor was even larger than the deeds indicated.

Louisa dismounted from her carriage, greeted with flattering courtesy by the estate steward. After dismissing these attendants, she proceeded to rest in the manor villa.

Though Swan Manor was also in Troyes and not far in a straight line from the castle, the transportation conditions of the time meant it took a half-day carriage ride to reach. Unlike modern vehicles, these carriages were far less comfortable. Roads in Brudo were relatively well maintained, but still nowhere near the hardened pavements of later eras. After half a day’s journey, “weary” was no mere metaphor.

Louisa quickly arrived at the manor villa. Swan Manor’s villa was rather plain, and most rooms were usually unoccupied, giving the place an air of near decline—but not quite dilapidated. Fortunately, anticipating Louisa’s visit, the place had been cleaned in advance, so it was generally tidy.

From another perspective, the fact that Louisa’s room had long been unoccupied was a blessing. Rooms constantly lived in are never cleaned thoroughly with just one effort. Besides the usual grime and dirt, nearly everyone at this time had lice and fleas, and invisible viruses and bacteria were not easily eradicated.

Some things were best not thought about too deeply.

Louisa bathed in her room, and while her hair dried, she read the records kept by the manor steward and the reeves by the window, taking advantage of the fading daylight. The steward’s notes were work reports; the reeves kept the account books. One of the reeves’ main duties was bookkeeping, recording every economic activity on the estate.

The manor steward’s work notes were straightforward to read. The steward of Swan Manor came from a relatively wealthy merchant family, though with many siblings and a limited inheritance. He had been sent to a monastery early on; his father originally intended for him to become a clergyman.

Though he ultimately resisted entering the religious world, his monastic education taught him to read and write—referring, of course, to Latin, the common scholarly language. Those who only knew their native tongue were considered semi-illiterate by intellectuals.

With skills in literacy and numeracy, a talent for management, some agricultural knowledge learned from monks involved in farming, and a measure of luck, he eventually secured the steward position at Swan Manor. This was indeed fortunate, as not all stewardships were equal.

Firstly, Swan Manor was a large estate with many personnel; besides higher pay, there were more opportunities for perquisites. Secondly, serving Count Balzac, a great noble with multiple estates, gave the steward a comfortable position with considerable autonomy.

In contrast, stewards working for knights or country gentry with only a few small estates were practically under constant supervision, making their work far more difficult.

Overall, the steward’s records were well-organized, clear, and fluent. The reeves, however, were another matter. They were not only locals from the manor but also elected by the serfs—serfs themselves, essentially representatives of serf interests. Free peasants had no involvement with the reeves.

Given their serf origins, it was understandable that many reeves had little education, often illiterate and unfamiliar even with local vernacular scripts. Their account books resembled pictographs—ten sheep might be represented by a triangle for the sheep and vertical lines for the number—evoking the primitive writing of ancient times.

Because Swan Manor was large, there were three reeves, each responsible for different accounts, resulting in differing recording methods that made the accounts even harder to decipher.

“Miss, you needn’t worry about these details. The annual auditors never inspect the reeves’ account books but only require verbal reports,” explained Madame Hugo, whose husband had experience auditing estates on behalf of the count. She understood these matters well.

“They only spot-check reported figures against the estate’s stores.”

“There are no random checks; a general glance is sufficient—as long as the numbers aren’t too far off.”

At this time, the manor’s economic activities were quite simple. Following Madame Hugo’s explanation, the auditors’ approach was workable. Louisa was not here to uncover fraud, so she soon put the accounts aside. Rising, she looked out the window toward the orderly strip fields stretching into the distance.

“I just want to see how they’re managing the sugar beet cultivation,” Louisa said, having gleaned some information from the steward’s work notes. She also found some related records among the reeves’ chaotic accounts, though she couldn’t tell whether the work was well done.

Louisa quickly realized that everyone had strengths and weaknesses. Even as a future lord, she didn’t need to know every detail—especially the peculiar bookkeeping methods of each reeve.

If she became deeply concerned, she could always standardize the account sheets later, requiring reeves only to fill in Arabic numerals.

Arabic numerals were already in use at this time and easy to learn, even for the reeves.

By the time her hair had dried and the bed was changed to the bedding she had brought, Louisa allowed herself to leave worries behind and slept soundly. When she awoke, it was still before dawn.

Unable to fall back asleep, she got up. The maid, yawning, dressed her and brought hot water downstairs.

By breakfast time, the sky remained dark, but Swan Manor had already roused from sleep. It was spring planting season, and many peasants were already out working in the dim light.

They carried their own tools, some driving oxen, walking along narrow paths between neat cottages and winding field lanes toward their fields.

The manor’s villages were well constructed, especially Stonebridge Village, closest to the manor villa—just across a stone bridge that gave the village its name.

Likely for appearances, since the lord could see the village from the villa and the chapel was nearby, Stonebridge Village was laid out in a fan shape with rows of orderly houses.

None of the farmhouses were particularly dilapidated. They were built from wood, earth, and stone, with thatched roofs that were clearly well maintained—thick and sturdy enough to keep out wind and rain.

Small vegetable gardens grew in front of the houses, some with fruit trees. Nearby sheds served as animal shelters, present only at the wealthier farms, since not every household owned large livestock. Poultry was common, mostly geese or ducks, as chickens required more grain feed and were less frequently raised.

At dawn, Louisa stood by the window, gazing further out. The autumn-sown grains were lush and green, while the spring-plowed strip fields revealed dark, moist soil freshly turned over.