The people of Villa Manor were quite pragmatic. Upon receiving news that the new Countess would be coming to inspect, they had made preparations well in advance.
It couldn’t be helped—the manor’s stewards had previously gone to Golden Manor to meet with Theresa. At that time, they had been half-scared to death by their new liege, nearly convinced they wouldn’t make it back. The petty schemes they had entertained due to the old Count’s passing and the new Countess being an orphan girl were instantly frightened out of them. At least for now, they had to lay low and dared not cause any more trouble.
Thus, before Theresa’s arrival, the stewards of Villa Manor had already rectified all potential problem areas and repeatedly warned the serfs on the estate: anyone who caused trouble during the new liege’s inspection would face the whip.
Fearing that the filthy serfs might offend the new liege’s eyes, the manor stewards did not allow them to come greet her, instead driving them all to the fields to prepare for spring plowing.
As Theresa rode past the farmland, she saw that most of the serfs could only turn the soil with hoes. The few who could use plows worked in pairs—one pulling the plow from the front, another pushing from behind—with not a single ox or horse in sight for plowing.
She stopped and asked the manor steward following behind her, “Does the manor not raise oxen or horses?”
The steward in charge of livestock hurriedly replied, “Yes, yes! The manor raises fifty-eight horses and one hundred thirty oxen, along with two hundred sixty sheep and thirty-five pigs. Chickens, ducks, and geese combined should number around three to four hundred.”
Goldenburg was vast and sparsely populated. With few people, it was impossible to ensure sufficient cultivated land, so the main source of income within the territory remained animal husbandry. Cattle, sheep, and horses were the most important livestock.
The numbers of chickens, ducks, and geese were difficult to tally because these were mostly distributed among the serfs for free-range rearing. Compared to large livestock, they had a high loss rate, so the exact figures could only be determined when they were collected.
Additionally, the serfs and some free peasants on the manor typically raised their own chickens and ducks. Raising these also required paying taxes to the liege, and along with other levies, each household generally had to pay at least one chicken or more in taxes during collection time, further increasing the poultry count.
“Then why aren’t oxen or horses used for plowing? And why are there so few plows? How long will it take to turn the soil relying solely on these people with hoes?”
As an agriculture major in university, Theresa could tell at a glance that the serfs were using Roman light plows—inflexible, incapable of deep plowing, and limited in soil-turning effectiveness. Naturally, the crops that grew later wouldn’t be good either. Moreover, even such plows were few in number.
The stewards naturally wouldn’t admit to poor work arrangements and instead claimed that the serfs were too poor to even rent plows, forcing them to rely on hoes.
One steward, thinking she was dissatisfied with their efficiency, quickly explained, “Please rest assured, they are currently plowing the land they themselves have rented. Your own cultivated fields have already been turned and will not delay the upcoming planting.”
Normally, serfs would first complete their work for the lord before tending to their own fields, and the crops to be planted on the manor’s land each year were typically arranged by the lord. However, over the past few months, first the heir passed away, followed by the old count falling ill, bedridden and unable to rise, leaving him with no energy to manage the fields.
Under such circumstances, the stewards were not entirely incapable of deciding on planting matters. After all, missing the spring planting would delay the entire year’s harvest.
Yet, the new heir appointed by the old count was someone they had never met. Without knowing the temperament of the new count, the stewards dared not make decisions on their own, fearing repercussions from the new lord. As a result, the fields belonging to the lord remained unplanted to this day.
However, the stewards were not without foresight. Seeing that the time for spring planting had arrived, although they could not decide what to plant this year, they did not dare neglect the preparatory work before planting. Thus, as they had said, the land belonging to Golden had already been plowed, and the serfs were now working on the fields they themselves rented.
But this did not ease Theresa’s frown.
She dismounted from her horse, scooped up a handful of soil from a nearby field. The field by the roadside had already been plowed, but the soil remained compacted, requiring someone to break it up with a hoe.
The soil was also yellowish in color, clearly lacking in nutrients. Digging deeper, the soil became hard and dry just ten to twenty centimeters below the surface, completely untouched by the plow. In Theresa’s eyes, this kind of plowing was entirely inadequate, yet to others, it was perfectly normal.
Dropping the soil and dusting off her hands, Theresa said nothing more. She remounted her horse and headed for the castle.
Villa Manor also had a castle, though smaller in scale than the one in Golden Manor. As expected, the convoy would rest here for the night before continuing on to Capoli Town the next day.
Upon arriving at the castle, Theresa went straight to the study.
As she walked, she asked, “How many carpenters and blacksmiths are there in the manor?”
The total population of Villa Manor was less than five hundred, with fewer than thirty artisans. Among them, there were eight carpenters and only two blacksmiths.
This number was rather low.
“Summon them all. I need them to make something.”
While giving the order, Theresa pulled out a piece of parchment and began sketching.
She was drawing an iron plow, the most famous curved-shaft plow from China.
Earlier in the fields, she had seen the serfs using Roman light plows. These plows were not only simple in structure but also entirely made of wood, making them inefficient and short-lived.
In contrast, China had used iron plows since ancient times, which were not only durable but also had one key difference: Chinese plows featured a moldboard. A plow with a moldboard could break up and turn over soil clods, while the Roman light plow lacked this component, making it incapable of turning the soil. As a result, it could only scratch the surface, making it highly inefficient.
The advantages of the curved-shaft plow need not be elaborated. Although it was more suitable for paddy fields, it was by no means unusable on other types of land. On the contrary, it performed exceptionally well on dry land, a fact proven throughout Chinese history.
The curved-shaft plow also performed remarkably well in Europe.
In the seventeenth century, the Chinese plow was brought to Europe by the Dutch. After some modifications, such as converting the single-handled Chinese plow into a double-handled version and renaming it the Rotherham plow, they claimed it as their own invention.
Setting aside just how shameless this behavior was, it also proved that Chinese plows worked just as well in Europe—and this Chinese plow referred specifically to the curved-shaft plow.
Not long after Theresa finished drawing the curved-shaft plow, the summoned carpenters and blacksmiths arrived.
Theresa handed them the blueprint: “Can you make what’s on this?”
The structure of the curved-shaft plow was simple, but it still had eleven components. Theresa had broken down each part, clearly marking which sections were wooden and which required iron components. However, since the craftsmen were illiterate, Theresa had to explain everything in detail.
The carpenters said the work wasn’t difficult and they could finish it in half a day. The blacksmiths also confirmed it was no problem—only the plowshare (plow head) and moldboard on the curved-shaft plow were made of iron. Each blacksmith would handle one part, and it wouldn’t take much time either.
Theresa told them to get started and then called for the steward, Greg.
“Where are the most carpenters and blacksmiths in Goldenburg?”
This was a question Steward Greg could answer.
“Naturally, in your manor, my lady.”
The entire population of Goldenburg was just over three thousand, and the three manors accounted for more than half of that. Proportionally, the most craftsmen serving the lord would naturally be found there.
Theresa frowned. Leaving aside the carpenters for now, Villa Manor only had two blacksmiths. If the other manors were the same, the numbers were far too few.
Seeing her frown, Greg changed his tone: “Of course, there are also quite a few carpenters and blacksmiths in Capoli Town, as well as in the villages throughout the territory. Generally, each village has one or two carpenters and blacksmiths.”
Most of those living within the manors were serfs, including the craftsmen, while those in towns and villages were freemen. Freemen did not, in principle, belong to the lord, so if they were to work, they would have to be hired.
Theresa then sent people to notify the carpenters and blacksmiths who lived relatively nearby, instructing them to come to Villa Manor.
If these people could read, write, and understand blueprints, she could have simply sent the blueprint to them and had them make it directly. Unfortunately, the literacy rate in this territory was likely less than one percent. Most people were illiterate—not only unable to read blueprints, but they couldn’t even recognize basic numbers. To make matters worse, Albertina wrote in Arabic numerals, while the common numerals used here were still Roman numerals.
When the lord gave an order, no one dared to disobey. After just one night, not only was the first curved-shaft plow completed, but the carpenters and blacksmiths had also answered the summons.
Coincidentally, Theresa had someone take the curved-shaft plow to the fields, brought over an ox, hitched up the plow, and ordered a serf to drive the ox and plow the field.
Although other serfs couldn’t come to watch the spectacle, many overseers accompanied Theresa, and the fields were now empty and open. Serfs working in nearby fields could all see what was happening.
Soon enough, everyone watched as the serf summoned by the new lord drove the ox and effortlessly plowed the field back and forth.
An overseer ran into the field to inspect and found that the ground plowed by the new plow was not only deep, but the overturned soil was finely broken up. Even the grass roots in the soil were turned over and cut. The effect of a single pass with this new plow was even better than the results they used to achieve after plowing and having serfs work the soil afterward.
Moreover, this plow could turn directly in the field, making it extremely convenient to use. With the help of an ox, just one person could operate it.
The serf called to test it was initially somewhat nervous and hesitant, but once he discovered how easy the new plow was to use, all his tension and fear vanished. He felt full of energy, and even his shouts grew louder as he pushed the plow and guided the ox.
Everyone familiar with farming could see that this new plow not only plowed deeper and better but also worked faster. It was clear at a glance that it was far superior to their old plows—not just a little better, but significantly so.
The onlookers couldn’t help but start an enthusiastic discussion: if they were to use such a plow, how much land could they plow in a single day?