naaapseattle #607 - Enrico Four-Field Crop Rotation
#607 - Enrico Four-Field Crop Rotation
While the village head was feasting on meat and drinking heartily, inside the dilapidated rural chapel, Ansel was meticulously writing down his observations of the day.
Due to the urgency, the South Mound County perpetual lease rights and tax register statistics were being conducted simultaneously, so Ansel hadn't yet received the specific tax register and could only estimate based on Bryson's memory.
The entire Adrian Manor consisted of approximately 70 households, with an average of about 40 acres of cultivated land per household, which was surprisingly 5-10 acres more than the average in the plains.
However, according to what he learned from two villagers today, their net wheat yield was only about 60 pounds per acre, meaning they harvested 80 pounds of wheat from 20 pounds of wheat seeds, while the net yield of oats and barley was around 80 pounds per acre.
It seemed that planting wheat yielded the same amount from 20 acres in the plains and 30 acres in the mountains.
But the problem was that the plains had fertile land and abundant water, allowing for intercropping between seasons.
That is, after planting wheat/rice in spring and summer, they could plant legumes/forage crops in autumn to fertilize the soil, and even plant another crop of oats or radishes in winter.
Although both the mountain and plain counties adopted the three-field crop rotation system, the content differed in that the plain counties had no fallow land.
Even the fallow land would be planted with beans and barley, both to fertilize the land and to feed livestock and brew beer.
In contrast, the mountain counties could only plant one crop per year, having to choose between wheat, oats, and barley, and one of the three fields had to be planted with pasture to supply the knights' warhorses and draught horses.
Then they had to pay the knights to rent draught animals to plow the land.
Therefore, every household raised pigs, but rarely for meat, instead selling them in Mound County to exchange for more grain.
If that wasn't enough, Ansel also heard something even more outrageous from Bryson.
Due to the low wheat yield in the mountains but abundant firewood, the farmers' staple food was oat porridge.
If they used 25 acres out of 35 to plant oats, they could earn 2000 pounds of grain each year. Mountain manor land rents were low, with only one or two tenths going to land rent and tithes.
With 1600 pounds of oats as their staple food each year, supplemented by raising chickens, ducks, and wild pigs, as well as relying on forest timber trade and hunting, they might not be well-fed, but at least they wouldn't starve.
But the problem was that the knights and priests in the mountainous areas generally collected in-kind rent, and this "in-kind" was actually wheat and barley!
Because wheat could be made into bread, and barley could be brewed into beer, but oats tasted terrible and required fuel to cook, so they wouldn't fetch a good price as grain.
Thus, the lords would order the common farmers to reduce the planting of their staple food and instead plant wheat and barley, ultimately leading to the bizarre scene of people starving to death in years of bumper harvests.
The cripple Alan told Ansel during the day that his younger brother, wife, and newborn son had starved to death during a year of abundance.
In fact, Ansel noticed a huge problem with a casual glance in the square today, which was that the entire manor was skewed towards a younger population, with hardly anyone over forty years old.
Because once people got old, in the event of famine or insufficient rations, priority was given to the young. The elderly either went into the forest to starve to death, or went down the mountain to wander as mercenaries.
Adrian Manor was considered wealthy. Some of the surrounding manors had less than 30 acres of cultivated land per household.
Now Ansel understood why mountain counties, with higher average cultivated land per household than plain counties, would often suffer from famine and starvation.
If perpetual lease rights could be implemented, converting in-kind rent into a percentage-based monetary rent, the burden on the mountain people would be much lighter.
Although it wouldn't necessarily lead to a comfortable life, at least they wouldn't starve to death.
The reason was simple.
Perpetual lease rights were tied to the hundred-household district. Once perpetual lease rights and the hundred-household district were established, the knights would no longer have the right to manipulate agriculture, and the farmers would be willing to improve the land.
Farmers within the hundred-household district could rely on agricultural mutual assistance to save some manpower and resources to build ditches, roads, and improve the land.
With the land under the perpetual lease contract as collateral, the Holy Scythe Monastery could provide loans and purchase seeds and farm tools on their behalf, and begin to transition to the Enrico four-field crop rotation system.
The Enrico four-field crop rotation system was very suitable for mountain counties. A 40-acre field was divided into four plots, taking 10 acres as an example.
In the first year, clover or alfalfa would be planted and plowed into the ground as green manure. In the second year, oats could be planted, and with green manure, the yield of oats could be increased to 100 to 110 pounds per acre, while wheat could be increased to 80 pounds.
In the third year, turnips or kale would be planted. This was the most important step because they had a crucial characteristic: they were all biennial plants!
In other words, they wouldn't be frozen to death even if it snowed in winter. They would just stay in the ground, and be pulled out for livestock to eat when needed.
With the terrain of the mountain counties, it would have been possible to raise dairy cows and packhorses on a large scale, but the lack of sufficient high-calorie feed in winter caused the cattle and horses to starve to death before spring arrived.
Even without livestock, they could provide valuable winter calorie reserves for people.
The fourth year would be to plant barley for brewing beer, both as a calorie reserve (with alcohol, it could be stored for a long time) and to sell to the outside world to exchange for other products.
This wasn't a matter of planting in four years, but of planting alfalfa, oats, turnips, and barley on four plots of land every year simultaneously.
Then every year there would be 1000 pounds of oats, 800 pounds of barley, 10,000 pounds of turnips or kale, and 12,000 pounds of hay and fodder.
After the first four-year cycle, every household should have at least one packhorse and one ox to plow the fields, two dairy cows to produce milk, raise five to six pigs, and even try raising sheep to produce wool.
Given the mountain terrain, animal husbandry should be the main focus, with farming as a supplement.
Now such reforms are being implemented in Sechinger's manor. From May this year to next year, the results should be visible, which will coincide with the four-field crop rotation reform after the establishment of the hundred-household district.
In Hohen's homeland in continental Europe, after implementing this agricultural strategy, the output of just 30 acres of land could feed as many as ten people.
Not only could they be self-sufficient, but they could even export and trade.
Given the generally stubborn personality of the mountain people, if they could really achieve such an improvement, let alone the church army coming back, even if the Holy Father came in person, they would only support the Holy Grandson.
However, the biggest problem now was that, for some reason, these mountain people were unusually resistant to Ansel and others.
Just as Ansel was racking his brains, a slight chill blew across the back of his neck.
The night wind squeezed in through the open door, shaking the weak flame of the oil lamp, and a blurry long shadow suddenly appeared on the wall.
Ansel turned his head and saw Bryson carefully holding the oil lamp as he entered.
"What did Knight Adrian say?"
"Knight Adrian will publicly punish the village head tomorrow to clarify the facts," Bryson paused, as if considering his words, "But he can't do too much, because Henderson is his uncle. At most, he'll tell Henderson not to go too far, and the rest will depend on ourselves."
"This knight is letting the village head ride on his neck?" Ansel was even more surprised.
But Bryson shook his head: "You don't understand. The mountains are different from the plains. There's not much sense of hierarchy, but rather a stronger sense of kinship. The power of the armed farmers here is much greater than in the plains. Otherwise, where would so many high-quality infantry come from?
In a manor, as long as they are armed farmers, they are all blood relatives of the knight's family. These manor positions, including steward, village head, groom, carpenter, blacksmith, etc., are all hereditary by the knight's armed farmer relatives.
Without them, the knight can't manage the entire manor alone, and he will be discredited in mountain aristocratic society for mistreating his relatives, so everything is discussed within the family.
This Knight Adrian is away from the manor for half the year, and Henderson basically handles all matters, big and small.
Without the support of other armed farmers, he can't even dismiss Henderson from his position as village head.
He is nominally Henderson's lord, but he relies on Henderson to pay him a salary, so of course he won't fall out with Henderson."
Ansel quickly reacted. He suddenly slapped his head and said, "I see, so the real target we need to deal with is this group of armed farmers?"
"...You could say that," Bryson nodded.
Ansel turned around at this time and began to write rustlingly in his notebook, recording these important information one by one on paper.
Bryson's eyes stared at Ansel's profile, his lips opening and closing, struggling repeatedly like a fish out of water.
In the end, he said nothing, just lowered his head and walked to the door, then looked back to see Ansel still writing at the desk.
Biting his teeth, Bryson first poked his head out to look around, and after seeing that no one was there, he closed the door and walked back to Ansel's side.
"Is there anything else? Uncle Bryson," Ansel looked up blankly, looking at Bryson, who had pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him.
These days, Bryson had been very submissive, and Ansel had basically been the one to talk to him. It was rare to see him take the initiative to talk.
Bryson licked his lips: "Ansel, brother in the Lord, our mission is to promote perpetual lease rights, right?"
"Of course, what's wrong?"
"I have an idea, why don't we entrust this matter to those armed farmers? You saw today how unwelcome these residents are to us."
Ansel blinked, as if he was seeing Bryson for the first time. He was about to refute, but was interrupted by Bryson's bitter face.
"Ansel, brother in the Lord, I'm really thinking of you. This Knight Adrian is unreliable and doesn't care about things. We can't count on him.
How many years have the armed farmers been in this manor? How many months can we stay here? The believers simply don't trust us. Even if we forcibly sign the perpetual lease rights and establish the hundred-household district, won't the head of the hundred households still be that Henderson?
This place is remote, can we really come to supervise it all the time?"
Swallowing a mouthful of saliva, Bryson saw Ansel pondering, and thinking that he had a chance, he quickly followed up with persuasion: "You became a traveling monk at such a young age, your future is bright, why waste your time here? If they themselves are unwilling to promote perpetual lease rights, then they have no vision and deserve what they get.
You entrust the perpetual lease rights to him, and then establish a hundred-household district. If you don't say it, I won't say it, the task is completed, everyone is happy, how great is that."
Ansel stared at Bryson's face for a full minute, watching Bryson become uncomfortable, before he spoke: "I'll pretend I didn't hear this time, but next time I'll have to record it."
After saying that, he stood up and wanted to leave the room, but Bryson grabbed his sleeve: "Ansel, brother in the Lord, you are a good person, but some people are born unlucky, these mountain people are!
Can you really make these mountain people come to your side in just a few days?"
"If not a few days, then a month will do."
"What do you want to do?"
Ansel smiled mysteriously: "Tomorrow, you will know."