Lord Jacobus, with the help of the surveyor and a labor force of townspeople, made quick work of the additional dyke in the north, which now protected the drying salt deposits from flood. Lady Hester went with him each day to the work sites and demonstrated to all that she too was not afraid to muddy her hands. She suggested to Derick and Jacobus that they build larger grain silos and warehouses to store food for future use. Once her idea was accepted, Hester demanded the silos be constructed within the town or built near the castle where they could be protected. She did all this, at a time when she carried Jacobus’ son and Derick’s first grandchild.
“Brother Clover” as Jarvis the Monk was affectionately called by the farmers, shared all he knew about improving production with the farm families, and learned some new tricks, himself, in the process of supervising farm production and distributing the new and better seeds he purchased in Flanders. He also introduced a new type of plow that cut deeper into the soil and in turn increased yields. Despite the time farm families spent laboring on the new canal, the yield of the three harvests were spectacular. Brother Clover felt that good weather, quality seed and re-energized farmers deserved much of the credit. In the following years, when grain was planted where clover had grown the year before, the yield was even greater. There were some self inflicted food shortages of meat when farmers, who anticipated the new pasture land in the north, chose to increase their herds by slaughtering less livestock in December relying on other food to make it through winter. That winter, the new clover crop helped feed the rising population of cows, sheep and pigs and sometimes, when the buds were ground into flour, the people.
In 1403 A.D., two years after work had begun, the canal was completed and fresh water flowed to the north where it was used to flood the former marshland. The new lands in the south were assigned and the vacated farm land distributed almost equally among neighbors, for agriculture had become more productive and most farmer families were motivated by the ever increasing yields. It took another two years for the flow of fresh water to wash away much of the salt deposited over time but the extra day of labor was suspended as nature and the clear water slowly desalinated the northern lands. In 1405 A.D., the extra day of labor was reinstated for the final act of reclamation: moving the dirt banked by the canal to give the northern land a coat of totally salt free soil. The new pasture land was distributed on the basis of merit, but Lord Derick retained two farm plots near the town which were divided into smaller parcels only large enough for a house and garden. These smaller homesteads would be distributed to retiring men-at-arms and others who grew old in service to the realm. Sir Wind lived five more years and during that time he constructed, with a relatively small workforce of hired men and vagrants, a system of drainage ditches which would later be crucial to the very survival of the land as the Little Ice Age brought wetter weather to all of Western Europe. The tremendous downfalls of colder rain would drain more quickly off the land because of these ditches. When Sir Wilhelm Wind died, Lord Derick ordered that he be buried in the cemetery previously reserved for only members of his own family.
Brother Clover was also rewarded for his work. A choice farm was purchased from a widow without heirs and the title was deeded to the monk by Derick. The great Lord also used his influence and a good deal of gold to win a dispensation from the church, which allowed the now former monk to marry. Brother Clover’s grandchildren would become influential in the later part of the coming Protestant Reformation, but strangely none of his descendants would gain prominence in farming. His happy life on his own farm would be cut short ten years later when he again was called to attend to the new agricultural problems of the entire realm. However Brother Clover was not idle during those happy carefree years. He spent much of his time developing specific crops, which could be grown in the family gardens and yield guilders for his beloved farmers. He taught the people to grow better hemp and flax plants that had high value in the market places of the growing cities increasingly dominated by the budding shipbuilding and textile industries. He experimented and perfected the best way to grow dye plants like green weed, madden and also weld and woad. The colors green, red, yellow and blue enriched the lives of many farm families who were willing to extend extra efforts in their private gardens to grow the main ingredient in these dyes. Each year he personally supervised the collection of these plants at harvest time. The collective sale of these plants allowed farmers to receive an even greater reward from garment makers in the cities.
At the end of 1415 A.D., after a short summer season brought crop failures throughout Europe, Lord Jacobus, now ruling in place of his aging father, recalled Brother Clover to again modify the structure of the realm’s agricultural production. It would prove a wise choice. After some mistakes, the ex-monk would teach farmers new ways to diversify and better cope with the increasing adverse weather. As Brother Clover returned to his managerial duties for the realm, The Baron Derick van Weir, possibly the greatest Lord of the Droger Land, died suddenly. As per his request, he was buried with the simplest of ceremony and on his tomb, carved in the stone was only two words under Derick’s name. They appropriately said only, “Builder and Lord.”
Chapter Two
Rotterdam 1550 A.D.
A Shipbuilder
It was an extraordinary occasion, after only five short years of apprenticeship, eighteen year old Henry Roulfs became Rotterdam’s youngest master shipwright. The most powerful people in the maritime industry had come from as far away as Delft, Schiedam, and Vlaardingen to attend the initiation of the orphan who so rapidly became a shipwright. The exalted ceremony at the Guild Hall was solemn and elaborate. The applicant and each guild member wore the appropriate traditional brown cap, long brown cloak and short sheepskin apron. It was code of dress that signified their profession. The hall was decorated with the tools of their trade, the axes, chisels, planes, and saws shipwrights used in building ships. Henri was unanimously nominated by the membership committee but many doubted his membership would come so soon. Almost miraculously, despite his youth, not a single member of the shipbuilder’s guild had cast the dreaded black stone that would have barred his entry for another year. The members obviously agreed with its grand master who saluted Henri’s indentured vessel as a “beautiful, sturdy and reliable ship.”
Henri’s rapid entry was helped by his mentor’s influence, his late grandfathers and father’s ties to members, and his own remarkable ability to put ship designs on paper. The young man’s pleasant personality may have been his greatest asset. Rotterdam’s shipbuilding community wanted him to succeed. All recalled his ability, even as a small toddler, to shape the hardest wood into seemingly impossible configurations. As its newest member, the guild would protect his right to an independent career. It would see that Henri had fair access to raw materials and labor. The guild would see to it that like all shipwrights, he would be able to practice his trade with few restraints. The shipbuilder’s guild had the power to influence the local political environment. Ultimately, Henri’s shipbuilding skills would dictate his success in the market place. By taking the sacred oath to the fraternal laws of the guild he guaranteed himself that opportunity. It was a customary advantage which his father and grandfather had held. Membership along with the important right of association would open the doors essential for his success. It would also carry responsibilities, such as serving as a member of the guild’s contingent of militia. That meant, during the winter months often putting aside one’s tools to train with weapons. Henri trained with other shipbuilders who prided themselves on having the most effective military unit within the city. A strong shipbuilder’s militia not only helped protect Rotterdam itself, but assured the continuance of the guilds hard won rights to practice their trade without encumbrances. Those rights were secured long ago, at great cost from the nobles who once totally controlled the city.
The master shipwright who trained him would benefit from his elevation by gaining additional
allotments of raw materials for his shipyard. The guild laws allowed his patron to share the profits derived from any partnership with his young protégé. Those extra allotments of materials to the master’s yard would last until his former apprentice acquired the necessary funds to locate and tool his own shipyard. In Henri’s case the funds almost miraculously appeared following his vestment.
Five years earlier, Henri had been devastated by both his parent’s death from influenza. With only distant relatives living in the interior of Holland, in the almost mythical Duchy of the Droger Land, the boy was truly alone. Only thirteen at the time, Henri became a ward of a city appointed magistrate. By law, this magistrate controlled the fate of the orphan and the estate of a deceased family. While Henri had attended one of the city’s best early schools, the magistrate decided against continuing the boy’s academic education. Instead, he arranged an apprenticeship with one of the better shipwrights, a man Henri’s father had known and respected. His family home was sold and his father’s business liquidated. The satisfaction of debt and the collection of administration fees were the prime concerns of any appointed trustee. The laws were written to safeguard the communal good and not to protect children. Even the financial accounting of an estate was at the discretion of the assigned magistrate and few orphans were ever given an accounting and fewer yet saw any of the proceeds from their parent’s estate. With little more than a small bag of coins retrieved from his father’s chest, the magistrate directed that Henri move his personal possessions into the boat house of his designated master. For the next five years he lived on a bed of straw, a stone’s throw from the estuary that led to the sea. The building was hot in the summer and chilly in winter. A small fire pit heated his morning snack and his evening meal. The boat house was spacious and well-built and kept out the wind that usually arrived briskly along the well traveled river-route to the North Sea.
As an apprentice, Henri was responsible for working hard and learning his trade. He labored every day, except the Sabbath, when he attended the Catholic Church with his master’s family. The master himself attended Sunday mass with his guild. Henri was expected to keep an alert watch at the shipyard during the evening hours protecting his master’s property. Tradition demanded that he share the important Dutch midday meal at his master’s home so he ate a more than adequate main meal each day. The master’s wife also provided him the morning snack and the smaller evening meal eaten at the boat house. His master shipwright was a demanding but fair man who showed concern for Henri’s physical health. He had a hands-on approach to shipbuilding and taught Henri by example. The boy took pride in these lessons and attempted to show his gratitude by prompt and proper execution of each assigned task. For five years, the master proved to be a good teacher who unselfishly shared his carpentry and shipbuilding skills with Henri. When the master’s high standards were met, he often rewarded Henri with a few silver coins at each new ships dedication.
Over the years, the boy had ample time to ponder his fate. Although his father would have been overjoyed with his advance to shipwright, his mother would have been less enthusiastic. She was proud of her husband but wanted their son to become a more cultured and educated man. She demanded that her husband, a man who couldn’t read, sacrifice unnecessary luxuries so Henri could attend the best early school in Rotterdam. His mother had been the daughter of a scribe who taught his daughter to not only read and write but honor the written word. For this reason, his mother insisted her son have the same educational opportunity as the sons of more privileged nobles and influential merchants. She personally saw to it that her son make the most of his educational opportunity. When Henri returned from school each day, his mother demanded he review his lessons and carefully prepare for the next school day. Sometimes, during his apprenticeship, when he chiseled meticulously to join two timbers at difficult angles, the work reminded him of the repetitious movements his mother required when Henri’s quill formed a single letter of the alphabet. His mother believed the quality of each letter impacted the meaning of each word. When expensive paper was plentiful, she would write him a letter in her own wonderful penmanship and expect a prompt, flawless reply. She would reject his correspondence until his final response was free of imperfections in form or content. Henri thought her heartless at times, but eventually, Henri learned to write attractive and well-constructed letters.
Yet what he remembered most about his mother’s prompting always followed the evening meal. His mother always encouraged her husband, who was a brilliant shipbuilder, but could hardly write more than his name, to play a role in their son’s academic education. After dinner, Henri would have been handed a piece of chalk and a slate and asked to draw something. His father had a shipwright’s respect for smooth lines and could certainly recognize a good sketch. He knew the ability to draw was becoming more important in his trade, so willingly, at his mother’s urging; his father became the family’s resident art critic. Henri sometimes manipulated the outcome by drawing sketches of sails or ships, rather than gardens or houses that drew harsher criticism from his father. Looking back, Henri’s most vivid image of the family’s dinner table was the pleasure on his mother’s face. She loved observing the interaction between her husband and son, knowing that these sessions had improved Henri’s drawing skills and also served to bind father and son even closer together.
On the day after his initiation as a shipbuilder, Henri Roulfs was summoned to the magistrate’s office for an unexpected accounting of his late parents’ estate. He discovered the magistrate was a good and honest man who had settled the estate, as was his public duty, and invested the surplus wisely on Henri’s behalf. The inheritance had grown substantially. The money was enough to fund a shipbuilding venture. The magistrate’s decision to terminate Henri’s academic education was driven by the magistrate’s perception of what Henri’s father would have desired. This honest man became a close friend and lifelong advisor; a man Henri could always trust in times of crisis.
With his new status as shipwright, Henri’s life changed dramatically yet he remained a stable and cautious young man. Instead of rashly funding his own independent project with his new found wealth, he committed to a joint shipbuilding venture with his old master. The agreement called for him to construct a cargo vessel, while receiving wages and sharing the profits with his former master. The decision left his inheritance in-tact and gave him time to pursue other personal objectives. Henri soon found lodging with a retired merchant-captain who took in borders. Most of his fellow residents were foreign ship captains awaiting repairs at local shipyards. The accommodation even included an evening meal of Dutch delights like hutspots and koeckens served with an abundance of alcoholic beverages. The sea captains came from a variety of nations, but most were fluent in Dutch or French and enjoyed sharing their sea-going adventures in a host of salty language. As a group, they were internationally oriented, favoring peaceful conditions to practice their trade. Yet these mariners were independent spirits, with strong views about explosive subjects such as politics and religion. They had little fear of expressing their opinions, particularly following a meal where alcoholic beverages were consumed. The captains liked young Henri and respected his knowledge of ship construction. They became his friends and mentors who delighted him with wonderful tales of their adventures at sea. Henri also socialized at the Guild Hall, though his youth made him cautious in approaching the more established master builders. Yet he received a secondary education in shipbuilding by just listening to the conversations around him. Many of the premier shipwrights welcomed him to their tables for all had high regard for his late father and grandfather. Two of the oldest and most respected shipbuilders were particularly cordial and both, like his grandfather, could trace their family roots to the Duchy of the Droger Land. They urged Henri to someday visit his ancestral homeland. They spoke about the ancestral homeland as if it were a magical place and held the ruling family in reverence. Those two shipwrights, more tha
n anyone, other than his master, helped Henri became an accepted if not yet respected member of the maritime community.
In a position to make choices, Henri’s first important decision was to turn away from the Catholic Church. This caused a confrontation with his parish priest, who expected financial rewards from the boy who became a shipwright, particularly one rumored to have received a healthy inheritance. At the time, many people were dissatisfied with the Roman Church and its clergy which had lost contact with their parishioners for many reasons. The Protestant Reformation was already well underway in neighboring Germany. Henri’s parish priest at first feared the young man was renouncing Catholicism to follow Luther’s Reformation but Henri had little interest in joining any new religion. In truth he had begun to have doubts about the existence of God but he kept those thoughts to himself for he knew the world could be a dangerous place for anyone holding such a perspective. Yet Henri bravely confided to the priest that the death of his parents had influenced his faith in God and he needed time to come to grips with the loss. A few silver coins “for the poor,” made the priest less antagonistic and more understanding. Both the priest and Henri knew the “poor” would never see those coins.
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