Medieval Village (1940s)

[Music] The central part of England has always been noted for independence of character. 17th century the pilgrim fathers of Scrubby and Gainesburgh prized liberty of conscience so dear that they left their homes to found a new state across the seas. Earlier still Robin Hood preferred to become an outlaw in Sherwood Forest rather than submit to the tyranny of the nobles. Between these two districts lies Lexton. There, from time immemorial, the farmers have clung stubbornly to the customs and methods which their forebears used centuries before Robin Hood, and have withstood the tide of economic change, a tide which has swept away others less stubborn. This was Laxton Castle once, a strong place guarded by ramparts from which the ground fell steeply away to the north. In those days, the lords of the manora were great nobles, wardens of Sherwood Forest, and the friends of kings. [Music] Later, the castle decayed, and in what had been the courtyard, there rose a mana house. [Music] You see it now. A few holes in the ground. From the courtyard, you can see the village church. And there are parts of the church built about the same time as the castle standing today. These pillars and arches have endured while seven centuries have ticked away into the half-forgotten past where sleep the old lords of the manor. Here lie the Everinghams, great landowners, busy politicians, fighters in France and Scotland. But they died out and the men are passed to the family of roose, country squires rather than men of public affairs. You can see their arms on a beam of the church roof. And you can see their name among those killed in the great war. But it is rose now and their descendants are simple villagers. They were the last lords of the manor who lived in Laxton itself. The present lord of the manor, Lord Manvers, lives some miles away at Thorsby. In 1630, the first map of Laxton was made, and this is a copy of it. You can see that the castle had disappeared, but the mana house was still there. Here was the church, and it still stands on the same site, although it has changed greatly in appearance. Round it cluster the houses of the village, laid out on almost exactly the same plan as they were 300 years ago. You can see them set along each side of the street, which runs down past the church. And so they are today. Each house has farm buildings rounded with a piece of orchard and a small paddock or homestead. Here, for instance, the end of the house on the right, then the stockyard and rickyard with an orchard beyond, and further to the left, the homestead, the field with one tree in it. So in effect, each is a compact little farm with buildings and yards set close up against the house. And each householder is a small farmer holding his farm as tenant of the lord of the manor. [Music] To see him farming his land, you must leave the village and go out to one of the great open fields that surround it. These are large fields, each several hundred acres in extent, and they're not divided up by hedges like most fields one sees about the countryside. A reference to the old map will show you what they were like in 1630. Here was the village, and the three open fields were set roughly on two sides of it. to the south and west the millfield adjoining the millfield to the east the south field and to the northwest the west field. Since 1630, there have been certain changes and the open fields are smaller now. Moreover, the fields have been worked for time out of mind on the same system of crop rotation. One year the mill field will be sewn with wheat, the chief crop. The south field will be bare fellow and the west field will be sewn with spring corn, oats, clover, peas, beans and other spring crops. In the next year, the fellow field will be sewn with wheat and the other two fields will change accordingly. This rotation goes on year by year so that each field is fellow once in 3 years. Look again at the old map, this time of the Westfield only, as being typical of all three fields. The field, as you see, was divided up into hundreds of strips, and each farm in the village carried with it a holding of land consisting of a number of these strips in each field. The strips in one holding would not be alltogether, but scattered irregularly, so that each farm would have its share of good and bad land. And a typical holding in the west field might consist of perhaps 10 strips scattered over the field like this. This system of scattered holdings has remained unchanged through the centuries and today there are in Laxton about 30 farmers holding their land in this way. The autumn plowing is the best time to get a good idea of the strips for they are marked out by plowing double furrows which also serve their normal purpose of drainage. >> Come here. At intervals, you will see a wooden peg marking the boundary between one man's holding and the next. At this time of year, all the farmers are out on the fellow field plowing it to bear wheat next year. And you may see several of them next door to each other, each plowing a bit of his own holding. Come here. >> And again at the harrowing and sewing a few weeks later. They still use the oldfashioned two-handed broadcast for sewing. And notice that the harrow follows along immediately behind the sewer. If we look at the old map, we find them doing the same thing in 1630 and probably long before that. [Applause] [Applause] In summer on the spring corn field, where each farmer puts in what crops he likes, one can often distinguish between one strip and the next by the different crops on each. Down in the foreground there are five different crops. Certain parts of the open fields never bear crops. Cart roads for instance of which there are one or two in each field. They have to be kept clear and reasonably wellm made to allow for the passage of farm carts. Running out from them are numerous grass strips called gates which enable the men to get about the huge fields more easily. Finally, there are wider grass strips called six, some of which run through the middle of the fields and which maze in this case have a cart road along them. Others are at the edge. Here's one in the middle on the south field and another one at the edge on the mill field. You will realize their importance later. But the most interesting feudal survival of all is the manorial court or court elite. This is a meeting of the tenants held once a year and presided over by the steward of the lord of the manor. You will see that it is a court lead of our sovereign lord the king and as such its findings have legal authority. Were it not for this, the court would have lapsed long ago, and probably the open field system would have died out with it. The first duty of this court is to swear in a jury for the coming year, and the official name for this body is the homage. There are three homages or juries, one for each open field, and each is responsible for the proper working of the open field system during the year when its particular field is bearing wheat. On the appointed day, usually soon after sewing, the jury will make the rounds of their field. They look for the wooden pegs which act as boundary marks between holdings. In many cases, these have dis and new ones must be put in using the nearest old peg as a guide. How do they know where the pegs ought to go in? Simply by custom and tradition. Juries have been pegging out Laxton fields for centuries. And each new juror inherits the traditional knowledge of his predecessors. The line of the pegs helps the jury in another very important duty to see that no one plows onto the six and roads and to impose fines for any encroachment. Here's a report of the jury for the mill field, and you will see that it's made up entirely of fines for plowing onto sicks and roads. In one case, the jury finded that this part of the sick is getting far too narrow. Even if the plow goes only a foot too far, that's an encroachment, and these little encroachments mount up through the years, and so the jury have to be very watchful. This is not mere official for the grass on the six is sold by auction among the villagers every summer. The proceeds going to the lord of the manor to meet the upkeep of the six roads and gates for which he is responsible. A big sick such as this in the westfield will give a good crop. The villagers find this grass very valuable and they're jealous of their rights to it. Hence the watchfulness of the jury. Another glance at the old map of the west field. Here was Westwood Common, the chief common land of the village. In those days, it was used for pasture by the village in general. This custom was continued until a few years ago. There are no beasts on it now. The reason is to be found in the road which you see crossing it. Nowadays, along that road go motorists. And some motorists have an unfortunate habit of leaving gates open. So much so that there are no longer any gates and nothing to prevent beasts from straying. It's true that the court fleet still appoints an officer known as the Pinder, whose job it is to round up strays, but it's a big enough spare time job without a constant stream of beasts from the common. If the Pinder does find any strays, he puts them in the village pound from which the owner can reclaim them by paying a small fine. He finds out the name of the owner by examining the beasts for identification marks. The pound, as you see, is not used much nowadays, and the office of Pinder may soon lapse. For the tenants, the decay of the common is not a very serious matter, for they have pasture rights on the open fields as well. They may graze the stubble after harvest on the wheat and spring corn fields, and they may turn stock onto the fellow field in proportion to the size of their holdings. Another important feature of medieval communal life is marked on the old map, the village mill. There it stood in 1630, and there it stood until a few years ago when it was blown down in a storm and never rebuilt. Like the common and the pound, its usefulness has disappeared with a change in social conditions. And now all that remains is a bare piece of ground enclosed by hedges, a dark patch in the golden wheat on the millfield. This then is Laxton as we can see it today. The castle where two English kings were entertained has disappeared. But the little farms remain [Music] in the church lie the silent tombs of the once great Everingham family. But out on the open fields, the year's round continues as it did before an Everingham ever appeared in Maxton. Few people in Laxton today can tell you anything about the great Adam de Everingham, but they all know Mr. Morton, the Wheelwright, who is still busy at a trade which has been practiced in the village for hundreds of years. Nobody today apart from historians cares much about Clary, wife of Adam de Ever Averingham. But anybody in the village will point out to you Mrs. Clark, wife of the foreman of the Westfield jury. Today, Robin Hood is a legend and his forest a coal field. In America, traces of the pilgrim fathers have been overlaid by waves of immigration and economic change. But on Lexon's Westfield, the wheat is ripe for the harvest, and the villagers are getting it in each on his own strip. With the passing years, most of the old families have died out, but the newcomers have taken over the old customs. And so, the manorial court and the three open fields remain. A living example of a way of English life going back through the ages to days so remote that they are lost in antiquity. [Music]