The interior of the hall was the common living-room for both men and women, who slept on the reed-strewn floor, the ladies’ sleeping-place being separated from the men’s by the arras. The walls were hung with tapestry, woven by the skilled fingers of the ladies of the household. A peat or log fire burned in the centre of the hall, and the smoke hid the ceiling and finally found its way out through a hole in the roof. Arms and armour hung on the walls, and the seats consisted of benches called “mead-settles,” arranged along the sides of the hall, where the Saxon chiefs sat drinking their favourite beverage, mead, or sweetened beer, out of the horns presented to them by the waiting damsels. When the hour for dinner approached, rude tables were laid on trestles, and forthwith groaned beneath the weight of joints of meat and fat capons which the Saxon loved dearly. The door of the hall was usually open, and thither came the bards and gleemen, who used to delight the company with their songs and stories of the gallant deeds of their ancestors, the weird legends of their gods Woden and Thor, their Viking lays and Norse sagas, and the acrobats and dancers astonished them with their strange postures.
Next to the thane ranked the geburs, who held land granted to them by the thane for their own use, sometimes as much as one hundred and twenty acres, and were required to work for the lord on the home farm two or three days a week, or pay rent for their holdings. This payment consisted of the produce of the land. They were also obliged to provide one or more oxen for the manorial plough team, which consisted of eight oxen.
There was also a strong independent body of men called socmen, who were none other than our English yeomen. They were free tenants, who have by their independence stamped with peculiar features both our constitution and our national character. Their good name remains; English yeomen have done good service to their country, and let us hope that they will long continue to exist amongst us, in spite of the changed condition of English agriculture and the prolonged depression in farming affairs, which has tried them severely.
Besides the geburs and socmen there were the cottiers, who had small allotments of about five acres, kept no oxen, and were required to work for the thane some days in each week. Below them were the theows, serfs, or slaves, who could be bought and sold in the market, and were compelled to work on the lord’s farm.
Listen to the sad lament of one of this class, recorded in a dialogue of AElfric of the tenth century:—
“What sayest thou, ploughman? How dost thou do thy work?”
“Oh, my lord, hard do I work. I go out at daybreak, driving the oxen to field, and I yoke them to the plough. Nor is it ever so hard winter that I dare loiter at home, for fear of my lord, but the oxen yoked, and the ploughshare and the coulter fastened to the plough, every day must I plough a full acre, or more.”
“Hast thou any comrade?”