Mad Mikolaj and the quarrelsom peasants

 

Chapter 2, interlude at Raven’s Knoll, Summer 1747

 

Mikołaj, like most big men, took breakfast seriously.

His daughter, in common with most infants, did so too.

When Mikołaj’s father slammed into the dining room, Milena frowned at her grandfather briefly before returning her single-minded interest to her soup.

“Those damned Kowalczykowie and Antosiewiczowie are going at it hammer and tongs again,” said Lew Krasiński irritably. “I’ve had the priest in to mediate when they told me – so politely – that I wouldn’t understand and it was none of their lord’s business. I’ve asked them to settle it, but no. There they are again, five Kowalczykowie and six Antosiewiczowie beating seven bells out of each other in the market square. I’m tempted to shift one family to another of my holdings.”

“But that will upset the happy couple,” said Janina.

“I know, my love, but if the two families cannot and will not accept that their families are joined through Jacek Kowalczyk and Maryjanna Antosiewiczówna ... Kowalczykowa, I should say ... then they must be separated to stop bloodshed, which would upset the happy family even more,” said Lew, slamming a frustrated fist onto the table.

“Don’t spill the barszcz, please, Papa, it’s very good,” said Mikołaj. “And Milenka doesn’t like loud noises and spilled barszcz, do you, my princess?” he spooned another spoonful of soup into his daughter’s mouth.

“Nyumnyumnyum,” said Milena.

“See, Papa? She said you must be calm and quiet for breakfast and treat it with proper respect,” said Mikołaj.

Lew glared at his son.

“And do you think you can amend the situation?” he growled. “And stop laughing at me, Gosia, I love you, little girl, but there are limits.”

“Any idea what the dispute is about?” asked Mikołaj.

“It’s something to do with Jan and Michał Kowalczyk borrowing an ass belonging to old Dżonanna Antosiewiczowa, without asking, and bringing it back tired out, and then the old woman’s grandchildren making asses ears out of those big fluffy leaves and attaching them to Jan Kowalczyk’s head while he was asleep. And they tell me, it’s very serious.”

“Serious? It’s a storm in a teacup,” said Mikołaj. “To be sure, borrowing the ass without asking is impolite and if I was the old woman a telling off and boxed ears would be an end to it.”

“They didn’t cut her in for a share of the money they made using her ass to take watercress to market,” said Janina, calmly. “And they were ready to take judgement and do so until those young hellions gave Jan asses ears. It is silly and it is a storm in a teacup.”

“And fighting over it? Ridiculous,” said Gosia.

“You sort it out, then,” said Lew.

“I’ll sort it out,” said Mikołaj.  “I want your promise to co-operate, though, Papa, and I need two barns cleared, a couple of buckets put in each as latrines, a big barrel in each of drinking water, and then I want all of the errant families except the happy couple rounded up and the men put in one barn and the women in the other.”

“You have your hajduks,” said Lew.

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking, my love?” said Gosia.

“Probably, and you can address the women, whilst I address the men,” said Mikołaj.

 

***

 

If the combatants wondered why two barns were being cleared, they were rather too taken up with their own narrow-visioned business to think that in any way it might have anything to do with them.

Gosia stalked over to the womenfolk who were watching the fights.

“In that barn,” she said, grimly. “I don’t want to have to force you. Those of you who are nursing mothers or pregnant can take the children and go home quietly. You won’t be hurt; but an end to this, there will be, and in the barn you will stay until you’ve come to an agreement.”

“They took my ass...”

“I don’t care if they saddled and armoured her, put on wings and mounted a lance charge,” said Gosia. “You women let your men get out of control rather than being ready to negotiate and so now, your lord isn’t interested in the whys and the wherefores, but only in learning that you’ve sorted it out. There’s a bucket in there to pee into, and fresh water, but you’ll go hungry until you have an agreement.” She smiled, brightly.

“It’s the men who are to blame!” said one.

“Then when you have an agreement, and have imposed it on them, you can make then sleep in the wash-tub until you decide to forgive them.”

A few thoughtful looks were exchanged at that suggestion.

The women went into the barn, resigned.

Gosia smiled.

There were voices already starting a debate of some sort which sounded as if negotiations were under way.

 

***

 

Mikołaj glared at the assembled men of both families. Most of them were bruised and battered, both from their own efforts in fighting, and from the cuffs they had received from the Haiduks rounding them up forcibly to put in the barn.

“I’m sick of your quarrelling and so is my father, which is why he’s placed this into my hands,” said Mikołaj.

“But they...”

“I don’t actually care,” said Mikołaj. “I see a pack of irritating fools who could not let well alone and go for judgement to your szlachcic. And so, neither of us is prepared to bother to sit in judgement on you. For breaking the peace in the village, you will all remain in this barn, without food or decent facilities, until you have worked out an equitable way around this stupid and puerile argument,” he said. “You have buckets to pee in; and water to drink.”

“What have you done to the women?” demanded one of the men.

“Well, Józek, they are in the barn over there, except nursing mothers and expectant mothers, and all children under ten years old, who are being cared for by other villagers. The same conditions apply to them.”

He left the barn, and met Gosia.

“Any problems, my honeyed intoxicant?”

“Not really; they were shouting that it was the fault of the men, so I told them to work out a consensus of what penalties to lay on which men, and left them to it. They are to signal capitulation by calling to the guard.”

 

***

 

It took four hours for the women to come to an agreement, and they were released and sent home.

The men were still arguing when Mikołaj strolled by the next morning.

“They must be getting hungry,” said Mikołaj, to the hajduk on duty.

“And complaining about it,” said the man. “A few have more contusions too.”

“Well, it’s a fine day. Let me see, there are aeration shutters on the south side of the barn,” said Mikołaj, and chortled wickedly.

Shortly, the women of the combined families were being feasted outside, on the south side of the men’s barn, with food of strong and appetising smell.

Faces appeared at the aeration shutters.

It took half an hour.

“My lord, we’ll accept whatever the women agreed,” said the oldest Kowalczyk, the spokesman.

“Excellent,” said Mikołaj.  “And don’t do it again.”