[JOAN DE GENEVILLE'S POV]
In the quiet chambers of Ludlow Castle, I, Joan de Geneville, the dowager Countess of March and acting regent on behalf of my young grandson, Roger Mortimer, 2nd Earl of March, took up my quill. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the parchment as I composed a letter, a reply to a matter of great import.
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Dearest Edward Plantagenet, 2nd Baron of Wymondham,
I pray this message finds you in good health and high spirits, for it brings with it both gratitude and understanding.
Your missive of the 16th day of November in the year 1336 was received and read with the utmost care and consideration. My heart is warmed by the wisdom and grace that you have displayed in reaching out to inform us of your decision. It is a testament to your character and the values instilled within you.
Your choice to dissolve the betrothal between yourself and my beloved granddaughter, Beatrice Mortimer, is not met with anger or resentment. Quite the contrary, I find myself deeply appreciative of your candor and the respect you have shown in addressing this matter with such foresight. We understand that the paths of young hearts can meander in unexpected directions, and it is our duty, as responsible custodians of their futures, to support decisions that lead to happiness and fulfillment.
As you have so rightly discerned, the commitment made in the innocence of youth should not shackle one's destiny in adulthood. Thus, I wholeheartedly approve of this annulment, and I trust that it is in the best interest of both you and my granddaughter.
I commend you for your intentions and your willingness to confer with us on the matter. It is a reflection of the honorable character that is the hallmark of the Plantagenet name. In the coming days, I shall ensure that we engage in a dialogue with you, or your representatives, to arrange for a suitable and fair resolution, one that upholds the dignity and reputation of both our families.
May this decision strengthen the bonds of goodwill between our houses, for we have shared a history that is interwoven with the tapestry of England. I harbor no ill feelings and hold only respect and gratitude in my heart.
I take this opportunity to extend my warmest wishes for your continued success and well-being, Lord Edward Plantagenet. Your lineage is storied, and I trust you shall carry the noble legacy of the Plantagenets with the honor and grace befitting your station.
With the utmost respect and gratitude,
Joan de Geneville
Dowager Countess of March
Regent of the Earldom of March
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The weight of responsibility bore down upon me as I signed my name at the end of the letter. The ink on the parchment seemed to symbolize the fading inkling of our influence in the realm. The dissolution of this betrothal marked yet another thread unraveled from the intricate tapestry of Mortimer's standing in the isles.
Beatrice, my beloved granddaughter, deserved a powerful match. This was not just a matter of status but a necessity to restore the honor and prestige of the House of Mortimer. Our lineage had been tainted by the actions of my late husband, Roger Mortimer, and his fall from grace. It was upon me to find a suitor of considerable influence, one who could breathe new life into our ancestral name and secure a brighter future for Beatrice.
The weight of this task was immense, but I was determined to see my family's name restored to its former glory. This was not just about the legacy of the Mortimers; it was also about securing a prosperous and honorable future for my granddaughter.
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[EDWARD'S POV]
24 Nov 1336
The arrival of the letter from Shropshire in response to my annulment of the betrothal was hardly surprising. The approval of the annulment was more of a formality than a necessity, but I felt it important to go through the motions. Before taking this step, I had made sure to gain my father's approval, and he had wholeheartedly agreed with the decision. This action had the advantage of not tarnishing his reputation as an honorable man and spared him from any potential fallout. Additionally, since I had sent the letter independently and was of a young age, there would be few fingers pointed in my direction.
During the past week, I had set in motion plans for infrastructure construction. The call for volunteers had garnered a significant response, with nearly five hundred applications accepted out of the seven hundred received. These volunteers fell within the suitable age range of sixteen to forty, an age group typically expected to support their families and themselves. In a medieval society, the younger ones were often provided for by their parents, and the older ones relied on their children. However, these were the best-case scenarios.
Many of the younger individuals had lost their parents, and even if they had survived, their fathers might have been disabled or lost in wars, plagues, or other tragic events that characterized the dark age of this medieval era. The older men, abandoned by their children due to their inability to provide, faced harsh circumstances. While I sympathized with their plight, I recognized the pressing need for a productive workforce to lay the foundations upon which our ideal society could be built. Addressing their long-term welfare would be a future consideration for I cannot be a saint and a lord at the same time.
I've dedicated a substantial amount, no less than £5,000, to the ambitious 'Plantagenet Passage Project' as part of my Infrastructure Plan for the year 1336-37. This endeavor focuses on the construction of a remarkable 10-kilometer-long cobblestone road, connecting the towns of Wymondham and Norwich. This road serves a dual purpose, significantly enhancing the mobility of our military forces during times of urgency and facilitating the movement of traders for commerce.
However, the overall expense of this project is nothing short of staggering. The wages for the laborers engaged in this three-month-long endeavor alone reached nearly £900. To compound this financial challenge, I've yet to initiate mining operations on the lands under my control, which would provide essential resources. Consequently, I had to procure the cobblestones and other necessary materials from Devon, incurring an expenditure of approximately £4,000.
In terms of future currency, the total cost of this project is projected to be a remarkable £3,745,100. This financial demand exemplifies why medieval societies often lacked well-developed road systems. For most minor nobles, the financial burden associated with such an undertaking would be insurmountable.
My ability to undertake this substantial project is attributed not only to my status as a member of the branch of the royal family but also to the considerable wealth I acquired from the resources within Roger Norwood's coffers.
In my perspective, the second phase of Army Recruitment progresses rather well. The construction of new barracks ensures that we can house an increasing number of soldiers within the barony. Once the latest recruits complete their training, my intention is to organize the army into distinct regiments based on their specific duties. This strategic division serves to bring stability to the barony, a much-needed remedy after the oppressive rule of Baron Norwood.
As for the third plan, the establishment of Guilds, it remains on the horizon. I've chosen the grand occasion of Christmas Eve for its announcement, as it's a time when we can capture the greatest attention and support. My aim is to persuade our skilled craftsmen, traders, and artists to come together and create guilds under the authority of the barony. This initiative ensures not only the enhancement of the quality of goods but also the fair treatment of our laborers. It lays the foundation for the next generation to be nurtured and trained under the guidance of experienced guild members, safeguarding the longevity of their businesses.
Within my domain as the Baron of Wymondham, I held sway over ten distinct villages and towns. These included Wymondham, Attleborough, Spooner Row, Kimberly, Great Ellingham, Hethel, Hethersett, Besthorpe, Deopham, and Bunwell. Of these, Wymondham, Attleborough, and Great Ellingham had been the bustling centers of trade and activity, enjoying regular contact with the outside world. However, the other settlements remained tranquil, their streets and marketplaces not nearly as animated. To advance my barony, it was evident that these smaller villages needed transformation into prosperous towns.
As I dedicated hours to exploring the library's extensive collection, seeking any insights into the demographics of my barony, fate intervened, leading me to a remarkable discovery - the 'Domesday Book.' This manuscript, created over two and a half centuries prior, was the comprehensive record of the "Great Survey" initiated in 1086 at the command of King William I, commonly known as William the Conqueror. While the information contained within the ancient tome was dated, the concept it ignited was fresh and inspiring. Although my present role as a mere baron did not bestow me with the authority or means to conduct a nationwide survey, I was determined to embark on a meticulous examination of my current territories within Wymondham.
Summoning my steward, Boris, and my chaplain, both of whom were appointed by my father, I elucidated my vision and sought their support. With a readiness that mirrored my own enthusiasm, Boris agreed to assemble a cadre of proficient scribes and officials who would venture forth to survey the villages and towns. Alongside, my chaplain would dispatch a monk with each group to ensure that the survey was executed without disruption or opposition from the local population.
By the evening, my throne room had transformed into a hub of activity, occupied by twenty-five able-bodied men and five devout monks. I efficiently organized them into five groups, each comprising six members. Within these groups were four officials, one scribe, and one monk, forming a balanced team to tackle the survey tasks ahead. The mission was clear: they were tasked with surveying two locations within the barony, and their undertaking had to be accomplished within a month, with the goal of returning before the forthcoming Christmas celebrations. To facilitate their journey, I allocated £15, which amounted to 3600 pence, to each group. This funding was mainly designated for the purpose of securing the cooperation of village leaders and town officials, a diplomatic gesture that would smoothen the survey process. Moreover, I considered a daily stipend of 50 pence sufficient to cover their accommodation and sustenance needs, given the group's size.
With bags of parchment in tow and their assignments in hand, the five groups departed, ready to embark on this substantial endeavor. The air was charged with anticipation, as we embarked on the meticulous surveying of our holdings in Wymondham, an endeavor that held the promise of shaping the future of the barony.