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Releasing the genie: English manorial records and their (huge) potential for interdisciplinary studies

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  24 July 2025

Philip Slavin*
Affiliation:
University of Stirling, Stirling, UK
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Abstract

The present article stresses the unmatched quality of late-medieval English manorial documents, both in quantity and quality, and their importance for both economic and environmental history. The corpus of manorial documents is used here as a case study to reinvigorate interest in late-medieval agricultural history of England. To do so, the paper suggests to integrate manorial documents with methods and data from other palaeo-scientific disciplines: palaeoclimatology, palaeoecology, aDNA analysis, stable isotope analysis, palaeo-epigenetics, and molecular analysis of parchments. The paper argues that involving scientists from these fields in collaborative work and integrating the novel analysis of manorial documents and palaeo-scientific data will both help resolve various outstanding controversies and reshape the discipline. But beyond that, such interdisciplinary interdisciplinary framework has a strong potential to ask and answer new questions, create new data knowledge, and take our knowledge to new heights.

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Where Next in Rural History?
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This is an Open Access article, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted re-use, distribution and reproduction, provided the original article is properly cited.
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© The Author(s), 2025. Published by Cambridge University Press

Introduction

After some 70 or so years of remarkable productivity, debates, and advances, medieval English economic history started showing all the signs of a sudden decline in the second decade of the present century. This is linked, first and foremost, to the untimely passing of some leading authorities, including (in alphabetic order) Ian Blanchard (1942–2020), Richard Britnell (1942–2013), John Langdon (1944–2016), John H. Munro (1938–2013), and Ambrose Raftis (1921–2007) – just to name a few. To complicate things further, in many instances – especially in North America – medieval economic historians in particular and economic historians in general were not replaced with younger blood upon their retirement, with their positions being either commuted to other economic or historical fields or, effectively, ‘shut down’.Footnote 1

In addition, we have to account for the fact that medieval economic history no longer appeals to the new cohort of graduate students. This ‘disenchantment’ with medieval economic history in particular and economic history in general is in itself a complex phenomenon, deriving from several factors. On the most basic level, there has been some clear decline in numeracy levels among fresh student cohorts, making work with statistical sources challenging and unattractive. Conversely, in those instances when students of economic history boast excellent numeric skills and high levels of competence in statistical analysis, it comes at the expense of the acquisition of a traditional historian’s toolkit: the ability to critically analyse and contextualise sources, to transcribe, read, and translate original texts, in order to then subjugate them to statistical analysis. Thus, we witness some fundamental structural, conceptual, and methodological changes within the field of economic history in the course of the last two decades or so, whereby analysis has become increasingly econometric and model-based in its nature, driven by ‘big data’ and disconnected from historical context and sources. Hence, it is hardly surprising that the focus of research has gradually shifted away from medieval contexts to later periods – in both European and non-European regions (as shown in Figure 1).Footnote 2 Again, this has something to do with the fact that later periods offer a more ready access to (often published and sometimes already tabulated) data, which requires neither trips to local archives and libraries to identify and photograph unpublished sources, nor meticulous reading, transcription, translation, and tabulation of the same sources. The concern towards the decline of ‘traditional’ economic history in favour of more econometric approaches based on ‘big data’ has been voiced by Daniel R. Curtis, Bas van Bavel, and Tim Soens in their 2016 paper, in which they suggested to revive the field with ‘shock therapy’, by harnessing it to the young field of ‘disaster studies’, with a particular focus on vulnerability and resilience.Footnote 3

Figure 1. Total Number of Articles (in Quinquennial Sums) and Relative Share of Articles Dealing with Medieval Topics, Published in Economic History Review, 1970–2024.

Source: Economic History Review Vols. 23 (1970) – 77 (2024).

As far as medieval (and indeed pre-Industrial) economic history is concerned, the situation is not everywhere equally grim – especially not in the UK, when compared to North America. Some economic history posts have been filled with new blood, upon the retirement of older professors, and these successors continue their predecessors’ tradition.Footnote 4 Thanks to that, the field of medieval and early-modern English rural history, with various economic and socio-cultural aspects, has received sustained scholarly attention in the last decade – as surveyed in a recent study of Chris Briggs.Footnote 5 Senior and more junior historians alike have been both contributing to long-standing debates (the decline of serfdom, post-Black Death economic transition, peasant economies, rural legal structures) and exploring newer research topics (rural landscapes, peasant cultures, epizootics, and animal management).Footnote 6 Local history societies are engaged in local history research and publications, which often tends to be dominated by economic and social history, as well as archaeology.Footnote 7 Outside of the UK, late-medieval and early-modern agricultural history has been thriving in other European regions – in particular, in the Low Countries and Spain.Footnote 8

While the recent research in late-medieval and early-modern English agricultural history has undoubtedly proven indispensable in sustaining small fire, to reinvigorate the bygone flame of the field, it would need some additional fuel. The following discussion proposes some potentially innovative ways to expand the field by integrating the rich corpus of late-medieval English and Welsh manorial sources with methods and data from several branches of ‘palaeo-science’, including palaeoclimatology, palaeoecology, stable isotope analysis, aDNA, and molecular analysis, just to name a few. In other words, the article suggests expanding the field of late-medieval agricultural history via interdisciplinary research and collaboration.

Before delving into the discussion, a caveat should be made. This is not the first time that the idea of applying interdisciplinary approach to manorial sources has been put forth and implemented. The work of Bruce Campbell, in which he integrated statistical series deriving from manorial documents (mostly, crop yields and livestock numbers, as well as grain prices) with palaeo-climatic record, albeit (in most instances) from other world regions rather than Britain, is one such good example.Footnote 9 Kathleen Pribyl’s work on agricultural productivity, weather and plague in late-medieval Norfolk, integrated manorial accounts with instrumental summer temperature series from the eighteenth through twentieth centuries, to reconstruct summer temperatures in the late-medieval period.Footnote 10 The integration of manorial records with local archaeological data has been championed by Christopher Dyer in many of his works.Footnote 11 Sharon Dewitte and Philip Slavin’s article, discussed later in this paper, collated manorial account data with osteological analysis, to infer the impact of the early fourteenth-century crisis on the health of the Black Death’s victims in London.Footnote 12 Finally, there are at least two ongoing research projects involving UK scholars – Leverhulme-funded ‘Modelling the Black Death’ and ERC Horizon Europe-funded ‘Synergy-Plague’ – that both approach the study of plague (on different spatio-temporal scales) from inherently an interdisciplinary perspective, integrating both textual evidence (including manorial records) and scientific methods.Footnote 13

The present paper continues along and builds upon those lines, suggesting several methodological ideas with a very promising potential for novel collaborative work with palaeo-scientists. The same ideas are tied to several ongoing debates, which, in theory, may be resolved within the proposed interdisciplinary framework, deriving from and associated with several fields of science and their ever-progressing methods. Likewise, the same interdisciplinary work has a strong potential to create new data and knowledge and thus to take our understanding of late-medieval English economy and environment to new heights altogether. Although the discussion and suggestions below focus almost entirely on rural aspects of late-medieval English economy (except the section on diets), the overall conclusions regarding interdisciplinary ways forward may be applied to both the rural and urban sectors.

In order to avoid a utopian view of proposed methods, discussed in detail below, a few words clarifying some potential challenges of the same methods should be made. Most importantly, we have to account for the destructive nature of some sampling methods. Thus, radiocarbon dating requires burning a portion of organic material; extracting biochemical residues from pottery may damage or destroy a part of the artefact; sequencing aDNA from a tooth implies the removal of the same tooth and damaging it via grinding its portion, while using a petrous bone for the same purpose may potentially damage a part of a skull. With all these challenges, however, palaeo-scientific methods are getting more and more efficient, both technologically and financially and the remarkable (and indeed accelerating) pace, at which the corpus of publications, based on the same methods, grows bears an unquestioned testimony to it. For instance, as of 2025, sequencing a single aDNA of a human or pathogen would amount to only 1,000 USD – in contrast with the whopping 100 million USD in 2001.Footnote 14

Manorial sources

Roughly speaking, and for purely technical points of our discussion, manorial documents can be divided into three types: manorial accounts; manorial court rolls; and different types of extents (including surveys, rentals, terriers, and, most relevant for our discussion, Inquisitions Post Mortem, henceforth, IPMs).Footnote 15

Manorial accounts – also referred to as demesne accounts or demesne compotus rolls – are agricultural and financial reports compiled by an official managing the demesne (the lord’s lands within the manor) – typically a bailiff, sergeant, or reeve. The records were audited and documented by a demesne clerk. The accounts followed a ‘charge–discharge’ format, with revenue received (incoming funds) detailed in one section before listing expenditures (outgoing funds or expenses). Generally, these accounts were produced annually, covering the period from Michaelmas (29 September) of the previous year to the same date of the current year. Occasionally, they spanned shorter durations – four months or half a year. Typically, they comprised two main sections: financial records of income and expenditures on the front of the roll and the agricultural account on the reverse or dorse side, which is relevant for our discussion. The agricultural section of the accounts is divided into three parts: the account of crops (compotus grangii), livestock (compotus stauri), and (in some instances) labour (opera). The crop section details the volumes of different crops harvested in the previous financial year and sown during the current financial year, as well as how the harvest was managed, primarily through sales and consumption. In some cases, crop yields appear in the account’s margins, though determining exact figures often requires comparing two consecutive accounts. The livestock section lists different species of demesne animals: horses, bovids (oxen and cattle), sheep, swine, and poultry, specifying, for each category, the annual patterns of gain and loss (including births, deaths, transfers, sales, and purchases), as well as the sex and age groups of the animals. Some – but not all – accounts also include the labour section, recording labour productivity rates of different works produced by local agricultural labourers.Footnote 16 As Figure 2 shows, there are about 2,700 demesnes with surviving accounts in England from the period c.1208–1529; some demesnes are blessed with very long and fairly complete chronological runs; some others – with only a single surviving account. The heyday of manorial accounts was the period c.1270–1370, after which their annual numbers were progressively declining, because of the seigniorial proclivity to lease out their demesnes to better-off tenants and thus to do away with manorialism. Taken together, it is possible to estimate that the total number of surviving accounts available for research is in the area of 22,000 rolls.Footnote 17

Figure 2. The County-Level Distribution of English Manorial Accounts, 1208–1529.

Source: Slavin, Manorial Accounts Database (tabulated data on annual crop yields, crop acreage and livestock heads deriving from manorial accounts and extents from over 2,600 English demesnes for the period c.1208–1529); Manorial Documents Register (https://discovery.nationalarchives.gov.uk/manor-search).

Manorial court rolls are records of local courts (curiae) that addressed and regulated various legal issues within the manor. While early rolls primarily documented land transactions among tenants, they later expanded to cover broader aspects of manorial life, involving both free and unfree peasants. These included criminal offences such as violent conduct, theft, harbouring criminals, poor work performance, baking, brewing, and selling contrary to the Assize of Bread and Ale regulations; land dealings, including inheritance, sales, purchases, exchanges, and disputes; matters of credit and debt; customary fines and dues; and the election of manorial officials.Footnote 18 Essentially for our purposes, one important feature of the court rolls is entries dealing with inheritance: heriots – inheritance dues payable by unfree adult tenants to their lords upon entering upon their deceased relatives’ parcels of land (and in some instances, fines paid on transfers of land), and deathbed transfers – a custom, whereby a dying person (described in manorial court rolls as languens in extremis) would instruct a manorial officer or a witness from among the customary tenants on a manor to ensure transferring his/her land plot to his/her beneficiary at the next court sitting. The court rolls survive in very large numbers – in hundreds of thousands – from 1237 on, going beyond the end of manorialism and persevering into the nineteenth century.Footnote 19

Different types of extents summarise the values of the various land components of the manor – arable, grassland (pasture and meadow) and woodland.Footnote 20 While rentals and terriers, recording land held by all kinds of tenants (be it serfs or local lords), could be produced for any manor held by any type of lord, Inquisitions Post Mortem (IPMs) were produced only for manors held by lay tenants in chief. The IPMs, compiled and issued upon or shortly after the tenant’s death, tend to be much more detailed than other types of extents. The process began with the king sending a writ to his escheators in the counties where the tenant’s manors were located. An inquiry (or inquisition) was then conducted at each manor, by gathering detailed information through local sworn juries and with local clerks compiling the extents and forwarding them to the royal chancery. The IPMs provide details on manor layouts, listing components such as arable land, pasture, meadow, and woodland, measured in acreage and value. They also document minor land uses, including fisheries, warrens, dovecotes, buildings, mills, granaries, turbaries, and orchards, as well as dues, customs, and revenues associated with each manor.Footnote 21 Between 1236 and 1509, some 20,000 IPMs have been created.Footnote 22

There are additional types of sources, sometimes embedded into manorial accounts and court rolls, and sometimes produced as separate documents. These include tithe receipts (roughly, one-tenth of agricultural produce paid by tenants to manorial lords in those instances, when the latter were rural rectors owing the tithes), pannagium rolls (payments by tenants to let their pigs into lord’s woodland), and estimaciones bladorum (a source unique to the estates of Worcester Cathedral Priory, estimating the annual demesne produce and tithe receipts, stored separately).Footnote 23 Because of the textual limits of the present paper, they could not be included into the present discussion.

Crop yields and palaeoclimatology

One of many important advantages of manorial accounts is that they contain very detailed sections dealing with annual crop yields and the disposal of annual harvests on the demesne. Much work has been done on crop yields, both on a regional and a ‘national’ scale. The single largest contribution is Bruce Campbell’s database of crop yields for the period 1211–1495, based on over 30,000 individual yield observations from about 230 manors from most English regions (Figure 3). As Campbell’s dataset shows, year-to-year yields were highly volatile, with some years exhibiting ‘average’ yields, with some years being blessed with abundant harvests, and with some being marked by harvest failures. Given a very detailed nature of manorial accounts in general and the harvest sections in particular, it is very tempting to accept their contents at face value.

Figure 3. National, aggregated net crop yields in England, indexed on 1270–1429 (1270–1429 = 100 = average crop yield).

Source: Bruce M.S. Campbell, Three Centuries of English Crop Yields (https://www.bahs.org.uk/crop-yields-database) (accessed June 2025), supplemented by Manorial accounts database for the period 1311–1320.

Note: The figures are indexed on average net yields (inclusive of tithes, but exclusive of seed) for the period 1270–1429 (1270–1429 =100 = average crop yield). These are aggregated per-seed yields of all grains weighted together, according to each grain’s relative contribution to the total ‘national’ demesne acreage, and calculated as the ratio between a previous year’s seed and the current year’s harvest minus seed corn (annual harvest share invested in seeding).

While manorial accounts may indeed provide accurate and reliable information on annual crop yields in ‘average’ and good years, some caution must be exercised in ‘bad’ years. As suggested elsewhere, in some instances it appears as if manorial reeves, accountable for demesne crops and livestock, may have reported notoriously low yields, sometimes ascribing these to a bad weather (appearing in marginal glosses of some accounts – importantly, these entries were not being recorded as standard and their inclusion was reliant on local scribal or managerial practice), to avoid the imposition of financial penalties by their lords. Manorial officials occasionally manipulated their accounts, including grain sale prices, harvest yields, livestock disposal, and wages paid in cash or kind. To prevent fraud, manorial lords employed auditors, who sometimes detected these falsified figures.Footnote 24

Obviously, the accounts do not state in which instances the low figures of crop yields are reliable and in which they are deliberately driven down by manorial officials. One potential way to approximate that – and, by doing so, to establish if crop yields reported by manorial officials and recorded by local scribes correlate with annual weather patterns – is to juxtapose the accounts against annual dendrochronological data. On the most basic level, lower-altitude trees are sensitive to precipitation levels, while higher-altitude trees are responsive to temperature variations. In the former case, wide rings reflect wet weather (and narrow rings indicate dry weather); in the latter case, wide rings record warm temperature (and narrow ones reflect cold temperature). Although such an exercise has much promise, it is not without drawbacks, for the following reasons. Firstly, England (along with other parts of the British Isles) experiences regional climate variability, causing trees in some areas to be less sensitive to rainfall. As a result, they record conditions as drier than they actually are – unlike those on the Continent. Secondly, seasonality plays a crucial role. English and other British oaks primarily register precipitation between March and July, but during late summer and early autumn – when wet weather posed risks to harvesting – they largely become unresponsive. In other words, they do not record rainfall outside these months. Lastly, trees across much of the British Isles are generally poor at tracking precipitation. This is mainly due to the region’s temperate climate, which prevents trees from responding distinctly to climatic stress, unlike those in other regions (e.g., trees in the arid Americas show a strong reaction to rainfall, while those in Scandinavia’s high latitudes respond primarily to temperature).Footnote 25

With all these caveats, such exercise should still be undertaken – especially on a regional/local level. As of present, there are only two published English dendrological series for the late-medieval period – one from East Anglia (covering 21 sites, including three in Cambridgeshire, six in Suffolk, and twelve in Norfolk) and the other one from western and south-western/south-central counties (covering 15 sites, one in Shropshire, two in Warwickshire, seven in Oxfordshire, one in Gloucestershire, two in Wiltshire, one in Somerset, and one in Hampshire).Footnote 26 The East Midlands and the North are, by contrast, yet to receive their attention. More recently, summer precipitation levels for England and Wales have been inferred from stable oxygen isotopes in oak tree rings for the period 1201–2000.Footnote 27 The dendrochronological record can in theory be supplemented by precipitation record reconstructed from isotope compositions of lipids (arising from degraded fats) from annually dated sheep parchments (a method recently developed and proven by Matthew Collins and his collaborators) and thus fill many important spatial gaps in the existing palaeo-climatic record.Footnote 28 The potential of lipid-derived analysis and reconstruction methods will be discussed in greater detail later in the paper.

One methodological way forward is to identify manors with good chronological runs that were situated in a proximity to one of the tree-ring sites and to analyse a degree of annual synchronicity between the three sets of data – manorial accounts (with annual crop yields and occasional weather-related glosses), lipid-derived precipitation levels and dendrochronologically derived precipitation levels. To achieve that, it would be necessary to see (1) to what degree poor yields are correlated with excessively dry or wet weather (at least in March-July, recorded by tree rings) and (2) if occasional weather references in harvest entries and marginal glosses of the manorial accounts are reflected in the local dendrochronological and lipid record. Although one would expect to see much harmony between the three datasets in many instances (especially in good years, but also in some crisis years, as demonstrated in a study of the Great Famine of 1315–1317, a major subsistence crisis initiated by the torrential rain of 1314–1316),Footnote 29 there will undoubtedly be still some discrepancies between the series. The next step will be to determine in which instances such discrepancies occur. For instance, there are many references to extreme summer weather in the Pipe Rolls of Winchester Bishopric manors (skewed towards the southern, south-western and western counties), but only less than half of these match the dendrochronological records from the same regions.Footnote 30 In order to understand what accounts for these discrepancies, it will be necessary to consider each such instance individually, by analysing, in a meticulous manner, various environmental and managerial aspects that can be gleaned from manorial accounts of the same year, as well as some preceding ones. Were fields under-manured before seeding (some accounts provide, in a systematic manner, valuable information about manuring rates)? Were there some issues with agricultural labour force? Or could it merely be a reeve’s miscalculation/scribal error? Such scenarios should all be taken into account. Apart from warning historians about potential pitfalls in relying on these weather references in manorial accounts, these discrepancies may reveal some ‘dishonest’ strategies of manorial authorities and managers to ‘cover up’ for poor performance. This, in turn, is related to a much wider question of the efficiency and transparency of manorial management in late-medieval England – a topic that has already attracted some scholarly attention in the past.Footnote 31 Juxtaposing manorial account glosses against palaeo-climatic record from different regions can be a methodological innovation with a potential to reveal some important aspects of this question.

Inheritance lists and aDNA

Another example of a potential marriage between manorial sources and palaeo-science is related to plague research. In analysing the demographic impact of plague on rural population, historians have used inheritance entries listed in manorial court rolls – heriots and deathbed transfers. Heriots were inheritance dues owed by unfree adult tenants to their lords upon entry on their deceased relatives’ plots of land, and in some instances, dues paid on transfers of land inter vivos – that is, among living individuals engaged in land transactions. Obviously, for the purpose of a proposed exercise, only post mortem heriots should be considered. Deathbed transfers were a custom, whereby a dying person would instruct either a manorial officer or a witness from among the customary tenants on a manor to ensure the transfer of his/her land plot to his/her beneficiary at the next court sitting.Footnote 32

Despite a piecemeal erosion of serfdom and manorialism in the aftermath of the Black Death, the custom of heriot survived well into the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries on all sorts of manors all over the country, with death dues continuing being robustly collected by manorial authorities from local tenants – unfree, free, and freed alike – during court sessions. Likewise, deathbed transfers remained an integral part of court sessions in the post-Black Death era. Thus, heriot payments and deathbed transfers survived both on manors, whose ‘conservative’ lords were reluctant to give away, for time-being, seigniorial control, and on those, where local lords freed their servile tenants shortly after the Black Death.Footnote 33

One of the most hotly debated questions in the field of plague studies is that of sex selectivity in plague mortality: in other words, were men or women more prone to this disease? Although it appears that in many instances, younger women were at a higher mortality risk than other demographic groups, there is still much discrepancy, and it appears that situation varied across spatio-temporal contexts.Footnote 34 One particularly interesting case is the pestis secunda ravaging the British Isles in 1361–1362. According to numerous contemporary and later chronicles, that wave targeted proportionally more men than women, and most recently, this allegation has been confirmed in one study of heriot payments from 184 English manors, revealing that the proportion of female inheritance pronouncedly increased during the pestis secunda outbreak.Footnote 35 But the same heriot entries, even though revealing this fascinating (and unusual) trend, do not explain it.

It has been hypothesised that the peculiar mortality patterns of the pestis secunda may be linked to unique molecular features of its associated Yersinia pestis strains, belonging to the so-called Branch 1B. As of Spring 2025, of some 104 sequenced post-Black Death genomes from the Second Plague Pandemic (deriving from various central, eastern and north European contexts from the period c.1357–c.1772), 95 are associated with Branch 1A and its multiple sub-branches, and only remaining nine belong to Branch 1B (Figure 4). All Branch 1B genomes, without exception, are associated with pestis secunda outbreaks, while all the later genomes, coming from subsequent waves, belong to Branch 1A – indicating that Branch 1B strains may have migrated out of Europe in the course of the pestis secunda wave.Footnote 36 Could the peculiar molecular signature of 1B branch and its strains be responsible for the preponderance of male mortality during the pestis secunda? One potential venue to confirm or disprove this hypothesis would be to conduct an in-depth molecular analysis of Branch 1B genomes’ strains to see if there are any genetic features or loci that may have had a potential impact on oestrogen or testosterone. There is one sequenced genome from London St Mary Graces (SMG6330), associated with the pestis secunda outbreak of 1361 – in addition to eight more genomes from other European contexts (five from Krakauer Berg, near Halle in Germany; two from Bergen-op-Zoom in the Netherlands and one from Bolghar in Tatarstan, Russian Federation).Footnote 37 To appreciate if the 1B strains had indeed some peculiar molecular signature potentially influencing sex selectivity in pestis secunda mortality, it is essential to compare their genetic features to those of other Yersinia pestis strains, associated with other Second Plague Pandemic waves.

Figure 4. Schematic Phylogenetic Tree of post-Black Death Genomes Associated with so-called Branches 1A and 1B.

Sources: Redrawn from Keller et al., ‘Refined Phylochronology’, SI Fig. 26; Katherine Eaton, et al. ‘Emergence, Continuity, and Evolution of Yersinia Pestis Throughout Medieval and Early Modern Denmark’. Current Biology 33 (2023): Fig, 3; Joanna Bonczarowska, et al. ‘Ancient Yersinia Pestis Genomes Lack the Virulence-Associated Ypfφ Prophage Present in Modern Pandemic Strains’. Proceedings of the Royal Society B 290 (2023): Fig. 2.

In the later fourteenth century alone, there was a series of both ‘national’ and ‘regional’ post-Black Death plague waves in England – including the pestis secunda of 1361–1362, the pestis tertia of 1368–1370, the 1374–1375 wave, the 1379–1380 wave in the north, the 1382–1383 wave in the south, as well as the 1389–1391, 1393–1394, and 1399–1401 regional waves. So far, sex selectivity in plague mortality in late-medieval England has been inferred only for the Black Death and pestis secunda – but not for subsequent waves. The same methodology establishing sex selectivity on the basis of heriot lists and deathbed transfers (inferred from changing proportions of land inheritance by men and women) may be applied to post-pestis secunda outbreaks. The results can then be supplemented by an in-depth molecular analysis of strains associated with each outbreak in question, to see if there is any correlation between gender-specific mortality patterns in each wave and peculiar genetic markers of their associated strains. Conjoining the two sets of data has a huge promising potential to improve our understanding of biological factors triggering different mortality patterns in plague and potentially other bacterial epidemic diseases.

In practice, however, achieving that can be not as straightforward, for several reasons. Firstly, it is very rare that court rolls specify ‘plague’ as a cause of death, in conjunction with inheritance entries. Secondly, as noted above, some late-fourteenth-century plague outbreaks were regional, rather national in their character, devastating only certain counties. Thirdly, there was, in some instances, a declining frequency of court sessions (widening the chronological gaps between two sequential courts), rendering the disaggregation of plague mortality from non-plague mortality challenging. Fourthly, the proportion of women holding unfree land has always been low, falling further down in the post-Black Death period – thus, heriot lists and deathbed transfers do not, in many instances, reflect the true rates of female mortality, but only in relative and approximate terms. Finally, unfortunately, virtually all of sequenced Yersinia pestis genomes come from undated burials and associating undated genomes with particular waves can be only approximate. All these pitfalls, however, may be at least partially overcome. As far as the first and second shortcomings are concerned, in order to look for and identify excess mortality associated with plague, it is necessary to know, on the basis of external information deriving from other textual sources, about the chronology of plague outbreaks in a specific region, in which a given manor was situated. The third challenge can be addressed either by analysing only those courts that continued reconvening with the pre-Black Death frequency, or by including court sessions with lowered frequencies, as long as these clearly indicate excess mortality during plague years compared to non-plague years, as reflected in inheritance entries. The fourth drawback can be addressed by comparing the relative shares of female heirs during the known plague years with those in the preceding five or so years. By doing this, we establish relative patterns of inheritance by gender over a six or so years and thus reveal whether the situation during the plague years conforms to or differs from those in the preceding years. This final pitfall can be overcome with the help of a novel methodology, most recently developed by Keller et al., associating post-pestis secunda Branch 1A genomes, whose precise chronological context cannot be established, with particular plague waves, on the basis of so-called ‘Phylogenetically Informed Radiocarbon Modelling’ (PhIRM), combining phylogenetic positioning, radiocarbon dating and historical context data.Footnote 38 This approach allows to narrow down undated genomes to about 2–4 possible historical plague waves – which, in turn, would be a decent historical approximation for the purpose of such study.

Agrarian productivity and palaeo/archaeobotany

Another big controversy is the relationship between agricultural productivity and the total population. In a nutshell, for some historians, agricultural output is regarded as the main trigger to sustain population growth, while population trends are conditioned by food production levels – at least, in the pre-Black Death era, marked by overpopulation, rural congestion and low living standards.Footnote 39 The estimates of total English population levels on the eve of the Black Death vary considerably. Thus, Bruce Campbell, a leading authority in late-medieval agricultural history, estimated in 2000 that the total agricultural output was unable to sustain more than 4–4.25 million people around 1300.Footnote 40 More recently, Stephen Broadberry, Campbell and their colleagues, drove the figures higher to about 4.75 million c.1300 and 4.81 million c.1348 (before the arrival of the plague in June that year).Footnote 41 Higher figures of, respectively, 5.25, six, and 6.2 million c.1300 were proposed by Philip Slavin, Richard Smith, and Hugo La Poutré.Footnote 42 Most recently, Philip Slavin argued, on the basis of projecting figures back from the 1377 Poll Tax return via estimated losses in the 1374–1375 plague wave, the pestis tertia of 1368–1370, the pestis secunda of 1361–1362 and the Black Death of 1348–1350, that the total English population c.1348 (and c.1300) could not have been lower than 5.3 million people – and it could have been higher, anywhere within the range of 5.3–6.6 people.Footnote 43 These estimates are at odds with Campbell’s and Broadberry et al.’s figures, based on agricultural output.

To account for this discrepancy, Slavin suggested that the previous studies (1) under-estimated the total levels of agricultural output (with peasantry sector yields being higher than those within the demesne one) and (2) may have under-estimated the calorific value (by weight) of medieval crops which could have been higher than these we are consuming today. The author hypothesised that pre–Green Revolution grains may have contained more protein, as crops with lower ploidy tend to have higher protein levels. When grains expand significantly in size, it is carbohydrates that primarily contribute to the increase, not other nutrients. Although protein and carbohydrates have nearly the same calorific value by weight, the key factor is that protein requires more energy for digestion than carbohydrates, making it a more efficient energy source per unit of weight.Footnote 44

Without palaeobotanic analysis, this hypothesis remains purely conjectural. But there is more than enough potential material available for such analysis, in the form of macro-remains of food and agricultural products recovered from hundreds of late-medieval agricultural sites in England (and indeed other parts of the British Isles and beyond). Recent palaeo-/archaeobotanic studies deployed various biochemical, chromatographic, and spectroscopic techniques, as well as stable isotope analysis (a technique identifying isotopic markers of certain foods in human bone and teeth), to study macronutrients, including carbohydrates and proteins as well as calorific values in historical cereal diet, but these studies are focused on ‘pre-history’, rather than more recent periods.Footnote 45 These advances in archaeobotanical studies in general would benefit the field of medieval agricultural history a great deal – especially when engaged in a collaborative framework with agricultural historians. Marrying the evidence from manorial accounts with archaeobotanical analysis of macro-remains of food and agricultural products, available in abundance, would advance our knowledge about calorific value and food consumption in late-medieval England and, with new data and knowledge, it would help resolving the decades-old controversy about productivity levels of late-medieval English agriculture and approximate size of population it was capable of sustaining. As noted above, any scholarly estimate about calorific productivity levels within late-medieval arable sector has been so far based on modern nutritional data. Conjoining manorial account evidence with new palaeo-/archaeobotanic analyses would allow, for the first time, to establish whether one bushel of wheat would produce as many calories as today. By extension, it would enable us to come up with more secure estimates about annual arable productivity levels on the manorial, regional (conjoining data from multiple manors within the same region) and ‘national’ (conjoining data from all the regions together) levels. This, in turn, can have some dramatic implications for our understanding of late-medieval agricultural productivity levels and capacity on the one hand, and potentially improve our estimates about the total English population levels before and after the Black Death, on the other. As noted, these are indeed some of the most hotly debated topics in the field of late-medieval economic and social history of England, largely unresolved until today.Footnote 46

Commoners’ diet and stable isotope analysis

Stable isotope analysis can be similarly deployed in conjunction with another topic in late-medieval economic history: changes in living standards of English commoners, as reflected in food consumption. In a nutshell, the current consensus is that the widespread poverty and low living standards before the Black Death meant a heavy crop-based diet, while the rise in living standards after the Black Death implied a shift to a more diversified diet portfolio, with increased fish and meat shares.Footnote 47 So far, the only quantitative study of long-term changes remains the 1988 article of Christopher Dyer dealing with food consumption by harvest famuli (hired agricultural labourers), on the basis of harvest expenditure section of manorial accounts from Sedgeford (Norfolk) between 1256 and 1431, detailing the annual allocation of food among famuli.Footnote 48 Sedgeford has a very good chronological coverage, allowing such exercise; however, it is by no means a unique manor in this regard. There is a long list of other monastic, episcopal and collegial estates, where such exercise is possible; some of these have a particularly good chronological coverage – including the manors of Barnhorn and Alciston (both in Sussex and both belonging to Battle Abbey), running, with very few gaps, from, respectively, 1325–1326 and 1336–1337 until the 1490s, and some of Bishop of Winchester manors, running with virtually no gaps, from 1208 to 1209 until the 1470s.Footnote 49 Sampling manors from different regions (say, several manors from each county or several manors from regions characterised by different topography and landscape) would also allow to identify regional differences. Would, say, fish consumption levels rise more pronouncedly in coastal than inland regions? Or, would tenants on higher-altitude manors, focusing on pastoral husbandry, increase the consumption of meat?

Manorial accounts are just one source capable of shedding light and answering these questions. But they reflect only one segment within the late-medieval society: hired agricultural workers, who often were better-off than ‘self-employed’ tenants and farmers. But even if the changes in food consumption patterns of the same famuli may be reflective of peasants from different walks of life in general, they may still not be reflective of those of urban population. To determine this point, manorial accounts can be juxtaposed against evidence of food consumption deriving from stable isotope analysis, identifying isotopic markers of certain foods in human bone and teeth, from nearby contexts – rural and urban. Ideally, such analysis should focus on contexts, for which we have excavated skeletal data spanning several centuries. Such urban sites included the cemeteries of St. Gregory’s Priory, Canterbury; St. Helen-on-the-Walls, York; St James Priory, Bristol and St Swithun’s Winchester.Footnote 50 As far as rural sites go, these are much fewer, but St. Peter’s, Barton-upon-Humber (Lincolnshire) and Wharram Percy (Yorkshire) can fill the gap.Footnote 51 Importantly, stable isotope analysis has been successfully deployed in a series of studies reconstructing food consumption in late-medieval England (and the Continent),Footnote 52 – albeit, in isolation from manorial documents or other textual evidence and, in most instances, without considering secular changes.Footnote 53

Land use and palaeoecology

Another potential venue for collaborative research involving manorial documents and palaeo-science is changes in rural land use over time. In a nutshell, the main contours of landscape change in late-medieval England can be summarised as follows – at least, as far as evidence from the demesne sector can tell. In the course of the thirteenth century, driven by population growth and demand for food, a relative proportion of arable acreage grew at the expense of pasturage and woodland, parts of which were being converted into ploughland. By the late thirteenth century, England may have reached the peak of its arable land capacity, as it is evidenced in, more or less, the stable size of arable acreage until the Black Death. After c.1350, given the changes in land-to-labour ratios brought about by population decline and stagnation in the aftermath of the Black Death and subsequent plague waves, both the relative and absolute size of arable land shrank, while that of grassland expanded.Footnote 54 This was driven not only by demographic changes, but also by new economic opportunities: with fewer mouths to feed and fewer hands to plough, both lords and tenants shifted their focus to pastoral economy in general, and sheep farming in particular, boosted by international demand for English wool.Footnote 55

In recent years, palynology (study of pollen remains) has been recognised as a powerful tool in appreciating post-Black Death landscape changes, as demonstrated in the 2022 study of Adam Izdebski et al.Footnote 56 Unfortunately, the only region where good-quality pollen data was available for that study is Cornwall – and (unlike some regions in Scandinavia, Germany, France, and Italy) that county shows no evidence of increase in cereal pollen indicators in the aftermath of the Black Death. Obviously, Cornwall has always been a comparatively sparsely populated and more of a ‘pastoral’ county, focusing on dairy farming and hence, it is not the best candidate to deploy palynological analysis to study landscape changes.Footnote 57

To get a fuller and clearer picture – and to see if these changes gleaned from manorial sources are reflected in the natural record – it is necessary to (1) gather pollen data from as many sites in different regions as possible and (2) juxtapose them against manorial sources. Here, manorial accounts provide some good indication of the changes in size of demesne arable acreage. However, this should be approached with caution: although they often indicate that parcels of land were leased out to local tenants, they do not indicate how much land was converted into seignorial pasturage. Hence, manorial accounts need to be supplemented with Inquisitions Post Mortem (IPMs). The IPMs make clear distinction between arable land, pasturage, and woodland within the demesne and record the physical extent of each land type and their respective values.Footnote 58 In contrast with manorial accounts, rendered on an annual basis, the IPMs were only compiled upon death of a tenant-in-chief. In other words, an ‘average’ manor held by a tenant-in-chief would be surveyed once every, say, 30–40 years. Still, even such frequency allows us to discern changes in land use over time. To complete the picture, manorial accounts and IPMs can be supplemented with Royal Forest Proceedings (not manorial sources) dealing with royal forest use and management, and revealing absolute and relative changes in woodland acreage, in relation to other types of land. This important source has not been properly utilised since Ambrose Raftis’ 1974 study – despite its huge potential.Footnote 59 Thus, conjoining manorial sources and Royal Forest Proceedings with palynological data can provide some important insights into landscape changes before and after the Black Death. These changes should, in turn, be connected to wider demographic and economic processes and shifts characterising late-medieval and early-modern England.

The early fourteenth-century crisis and palaeo-epigenetics

The topic of food crises – and particularly the Great Famine of 1315–1317 – and their impact on late-medieval society has attracted some scholarly attention in the last 15 or so years.Footnote 60 The Great Famine has been regarded as one of the harshest subsistence crises in European history, caused by the unfortunate combination of a short-term climatic shock (torrential rain depressing crop yields), demographic pressure and, most importantly, a series of institutional/anthropogenic factors. In England, about 15–20 per cent of the population died of starvation-related diseases – a remarkable figure, even by famine standards.Footnote 61 To make things worse, however, the Great Famine was followed by another major eco-biological disaster: the Great Bovine Pestilence, most likely caused by rinderpest panzootic, killing about 63 per cent of English and Welsh bovids in the course of 1319–1320.Footnote 62 Because manorial authorities prioritised oxen restocking, the replenishment of dairy cattle stocks was slow (it would take about 13 years to restock cow stocks to their pre-panzootic levels), and, as a result, an entire generation of commoners experienced a temporary deprivation of some vital nutrients, including protein, calcium and B12.Footnote 63

When studying famine or a similar subsistence crisis or food deprivation, it is essential to focus not only on victims but also on survivors – in order to assess the impact of the disaster on local communities and their socio-economic and biological standards – on both the intra- and trans-generational scale. In particular, starvation can have some long-term consequences on both physical and mental health of the survivors – and their progeny, potentially over two subsequent generations. Thus, it has been established that prenatal malnutrition during the Dutch Hongerwinter Famine (1944–1945) and the Chinese Great Leap Forward Famine (1958–1961) produced genetic changes triggering schizophrenia- and depression-related alterations in the epigenome. Additionally, these same epigenetic modifications weaken the immune system in foetuses and children, making them and their progeny more susceptible to various infections and diseases, as well as shorter stature.Footnote 64 Likewise, several studies have argued that the Great Irish Famine of 1845–1852 had a long-term trans-generational impact on the mental health of the Irish – both the famine survivors and their offspring.Footnote 65

Recent advances in palaeo-epigenetics, based on ever-progressing novel aDNA analysis methods, have unlocked a huge potential to study epigenetic changes in past populations and already yielded some fascinating results in recent years.Footnote 66 These studies, however, tend to focus on human populations of the distant past, tackling ‘big’ evolutionary questions, rather than more specific cases from more recent centuries. Thus, deploying palaeo-epigenetic research in the study of late-medieval England (or indeed any other medieval context) would be a conceptual and methodological novelty in itself. One exciting possibility would be to study the impact of the Great Famine and the Great Bovine Pestilence on the cohort of survivors and their progeny, by conjoining manorial documents with aDNA-based epigenetic analysis. The most obvious and straightforward way would be to utilise specimens from Black Death context burials. There are several excavated Black Death-associated cemeteries in England, including East Smithfield, West Smithfield (aka, the Charterhouse) in London, Hereford Cathedral, Thornton Abbey (Lincolnshire), the Hospital of St John the Evangelist and the parish cemeteries of All Saints and St Bene’t’s (all in Cambridge).Footnote 67 Most of the excavated skeletons, now archived and curated at different repositories, have been sexed and aged. This can allow researchers to differentiate between pre-Great Famine/pre-Bovine Pestilence cohorts and those born during and after the two disasters, in order to see if the latter cohorts exhibit distinctive epigenetic markers, impacted by stress and deprivation. As far as the ‘famine’ cohort is concerned, it would be intriguing to establish if the epigenetic impact was the same or different among (1) those growing up during the famine; (2) being in utero during the famine; (3) born into the famine; and (4) born after the famine.Footnote 68 Importantly, the most critical windows for environmentally induced epigenetic changes occur in utero (particularly in the first two trimesters) and during the slow growth phase (SGP) between ages 8 and 12.Footnote 69

The potential impact of starvation during the Great Famine and dairy shortage after the Great Bovine Pestilence on health of English commoners has been studied in 2013 by Dewitte and Slavin, on the basis of manorial accounts and skeletal evidence from the East Smithfield cemetery. The main findings of that study were that (1) the Great Famine weeded out frailer individuals; (2) those born during or after the Great Famine and the Great Bovine Pestilence exhibited various pathological signs, including shorter stature, cribra orbitalia (lesions on orbital roofs), and porotic hyperostosis (lesions on cranial vault bones); (3) the same frail individuals were more likely to die during the Black Death than healthier individuals.Footnote 70 Although this skeletal analysis yielded some important results, it could not go much beyond these ‘external’ and ‘visible’ pathologies and stress markers. aDNA-based epigenetic analysis of the same individuals would take our appreciation of the trans-generational impact of Great Famine starvation and ensuing dairy deficiency, as well as our understanding of the connection between the three disasters (the Great Famine, the Great Bovine Pestilence and the Black Death) to new heights altogether.

The torrential rain of 1314–1316 precipitating the subsistence crisis of 1315–1317 impacted not only humans but also their livestock, by (1) keeping animals exposed to cold and damp weather and (2) rendering abundant fodder resources rotten and infested with parasitic fungi, bacteria, worms, and gastropods.Footnote 71 All this appears to have impacted animal health and caused several ovine and bovine diseases, culminating in elevated mortality rates in the period 1314–1317, as recorded in manorial accounts.Footnote 72 Although mortality rates in bovine stocks were lower than those within sheep flocks, it was the former that paid the price in a longer term. Most of the cattle perishing in the 1319–1320 panzootic were the survivors of the 1314–1317 crisis, born or/and growing up in its course. What explains these high mortality rates? One cannot help but wondering if by the time the panzootic entered England in April 1319, local bovids were already frail and susceptible to various diseases – possibly due to epigenetic alterations brought about by malnourishment and stress of the preceding years.

The only way to take this argument out of its conjectural framework is to conduct a palaeo-epigenetic analysis deriving from aDNA of fourteenth-century cattle remains – similar to that outlined above in reference to human survivors of the Great Famine. This, however, can be trickier. Unlike some late-medieval mass human burials, firmly associated with the Black Death, all animal bones come from very approximately dated contexts – usually, merely designated as ‘Anglo-Saxon’, ‘high medieval’, or ‘later medieval’. Also, there is, at this stage, very little evidence of mass cattle burials (or, rather dump pits), but the ongoing archaeological work (in particular that of Annelise Binois) will hopefully reveal more of these.Footnote 73 Nevertheless, archaeological publications (including some ‘grey’ literature) may occasionally contain some ‘hidden’ references to potential victims of animal epizootics. For instance, during the 1979 excavations at Bierton (Buckinghamshire), a whole carcass of an ox/bull was recovered from a thirteenth or fourteenth-century ditch – a very unusual feature, likely indicating that the animal was culled and not slaughtered/consumed because it was diseased.Footnote 74 Identifying similar examples would be vitally important for the proposed palaeo-epigenetic studies.Footnote 75

In other words, palaeo-epigenetics can, in theory, reveal the impact of the nutritional crises of the early fourteenth century – affecting both humans and their livestock, – by identifying particular (epi)genetic markers of stress and malnourishment in human and animal remains. While manorial documents (court rolls and accounts) do not contain any hints to such ‘hidden’ information, their importance is that they provide the factual basis and historical context for the same crises, in which epigenetic changes may have occurred.

Parchment material and molecular analysis

The rich corpus of manorial sources contains potential not only in its contents but also in its physical make-up – sheep parchment sheets.Footnote 76 Most recently, Matthew Collins and his collaborators developed a novel technique of extracting and analysing the molecular and isotope compositions of animal lipids (arising from degraded animal fats) from sheep parchments to infer the animal’s diet, health, climate and environment – known as ‘Minimally Invasive Vacuum-Aided Extraction Technique’.Footnote 77 As a proof of concept, Collin’s team applied this method to nine sacrificial membranes from 1765 to 1825 and membranes from the Chancery Parliament Rolls (1814–1820).Footnote 78 This novel method has a huge potential, when applied to manorial documents, for several reasons.

Firstly, the vast majority of manorial documents (apart from damaged rolls and detached lists of manorial dues and payments) are precisely dated to a specific year. It is even possible to infer the seasonality of their composition: thus, manorial accounts would have been compiled during the annual auditing, taking place around or shortly after the end period of each account (usually Michaelmas, 29 September), while manorial court rolls would have been written during court sessions (meeting several times a year, with dates varying across manors). In some instances, surviving demesne accounts and court rolls are ‘clean’ copies of the original drafts; the same clean copies would be made short time after the draft version had been compiled.Footnote 79 In some instances, draft court and account rolls survive alongside with their ‘clean’ versions. IPMs would be put together shortly after the death of a tenant-in-chief. We can assume that sheep membranes were made (of locally bred and slaughtered animals) not long before they were used as written materials – most likely in the same or previous year. Hence, the temporal gap between the date of an animal’s slaughter and that of the composition of a manorial document upon its tanned skin must not have been too big.

Secondly, as mentioned above, in many instances, we have series of excellent chronological runs, with very few gaps. As noted, Winchester Bishopric Pipe Rolls, containing grouped accounts for several dozens of manors, run from 1208 to 1209 until the 1470s (even though most of the demesnes were leased out to local tenants by the early 1450s), while Battle Abbey manors of Barnhorn and Alciston (both in Sussex) are blessed with accounts running from, respectively, the 1320s and 1330s until the 1490s.Footnote 80 On some manors, court sessions would meet as often as once every month or even once every three weeks, and this can potentially shed some light on seasonal variations in diet and weather. Some examples of such manors with frequent sessions and very good or excellent surviving runs include the manors of Thornbury (Gloucestershire), Kirton in Lindsey (Lincolnshire), Halesowen (on the Shropshire-Worcestershire border), Alrewas (Staffordshire), Knaresborough, Methley, Wakefield (all in Yorkshire), and the manorial complex of Dyffryn Clwyd (Denbighshire).Footnote 81 Finally, the fact that manorialism was present, albeit with various degrees of prevalence and intensity, in most regions of England and Wales, implies that court rolls and manorial accounts survive in every county. This fact allows to survey and analyse parchments from all regions, by sampling several manors in each county.

The suggested comprehensive approach can create much new fine-tuned data that will fill up many gaps in our knowledge and potentially help solving some ongoing debates – including some outlined above, such as the impact of weather on annual crop yields and the question of synchronicity between low crop yields reported by manorial officials and weather anomalies inferred from the natural record. Indeed, annual dendrochronological record can potentially be supplemented by annual lipid record, to improve the quality of fine-tuned climatic record – rainfall levels in particular. In theory, lipid-based precipitation reconstruction has a strong potential to become an important supplement for dendrochronological data, and particularly to make up for its numerous drawbacks, discussed above. Likewise, because lipids and proteins can also be used to infer different aspects of natural environment, in which sheep were reared, this novel technique can be deployed in order to supplement palaeo-ecological record (such as pollen remains) with a much finer-tuned (annual) series of lipid record.Footnote 82

One aspect of particular interest is the change in the quality and quantity of grassland and its potential impact on wool yields. Manorial accounts provide ample evidence that per-sheep yields have gradually declined in the course of the fifteenth century (Figure 5). Was this phenomenon caused by endogenous factors – for instance, consistently failed sheep management?Footnote 83 Or was it triggered by some exogenous aspects – thus, the cold and dry weather with the onset of the so-called Little Ice Age in the fifteenth century, and in particular during the combination of the so-called ‘Spörer Minimum’ of c.1420–1470 and the ‘Renaissance Drought’ of c.1437–1480, which may have shortened the grazing season and reduced the available biomass for livestock?Footnote 84 Or could we blame some epigenetic and potentially anatomic alterations, whereby English sheep became smaller and frailer than their thirteenth- and fourteenth-century ancestors? Or, was it, in fact, a much more complex phenomenon, caused by a combination of all the above? Currently, there is contradictory evidence about the change in sheep height in the late-medieval era. On the one hand, there is some zoometric indication that fifteenth-century sheep heights and bones were shorter than those in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.Footnote 85 On the other hand, there is some evidence (from Dudley Castle and London) indicating a long-term ‘improvement’ in sheep size from the thirteenth century into the modern era, with fifteenth-century skeletons being larger than those in the previous centuries.Footnote 86 A more comprehensive analysis, requiring interdisciplinary cooperation among historians, archaeologists, and microbiologists, is necessary to draw clearer and more definitive conclusions about the potential effects of climate change on epigenetic modifications and anatomical changes in sheep during the late-medieval period. Such integrative research would, among other benefits, help clarify the causes of the mysterious decline in wool yields beginning in the 1430s.

Figure 5. English Wool Yields, 1211–1495 (in Quinquennial Means): (a) in Lbs of Fleece per Adult Sheep on Winchester Bishopric Demesnes, 1211–1454 and (b) in Lbs of Fleece per Lambs on Alciston Demesne (Sussex), 1336–1495. Both Series are Indexed on 1336–1370 (1336–1370 = 100 = 1.54 lbs for Adult Sheep Fleece on Winchester Bishopric Demesnes and 0.50 lbs for Lamb Fleece on Alciston Demesne).

Source: Slavin, ‘Merchants and Mites’; Manorial Accounts Database; M. J. Stephenson, ‘Wool Yields in the Medieval Economy’. The Economic History Review 41, no. 3 (1988): 368–91; East Sussex and Brighton and Hove Record Office (the Keep), SAS-G/644/91–139 (Alciston manorial accounts). Notes: The post-1454 period trends are reconstructed solely on the basis of Alciston wool yields, as no comparative material from other demesne was available.

Conclusions

Thus, the present paper offered several methodological proposals to integrate late-medieval manorial sources with several branches of palaeo-science and their novel methodologies as a way to revive interest in the disciplines of economic and agricultural history in general and late-medieval English agricultural history in particular. Despite the field’s relative decline, compared to the previous decades, the ongoing work of economic historians of the last decade or so has undoubtedly been helping to sustain it. The proposed interdisciplinary approach comes to complement this ongoing work, and when operating in tandem with the latter, there is much potential to invigorate and expand the field. Apart from invigorating and expanding the field, the proposed ideas and their associated methods have a potential to create much new data and resolve some ongoing controversies, thus taking our knowledge and understanding of late-medieval English economy, demography and society to new heights altogether, and opening the door to new questions and new research.

One salient feature of many economic historians – and indeed historians in general – is their tendency to publish single-authored works: in a sharp contrast with other branches of the science of the past – archaeology and bioarchaeology, first and foremost. Another prominent feature is their tendency to rely on written sources, textual and statistical, as a core material for their research and analysis. The present paper neither criticises nor underestimates these traditional approaches. If anything, historians in general and economic historians in particular possess a unique set of academic skills, sine quibus no engagement with written material and with its wider contexts is possible. And it is precisely the same skills that would be indispensable in assuring successful outcomes in the newly proposed framework of interdisciplinary collaboration with people in other sciences. The same collaboration cannot be successful until historians, archaeologists, and palaeo-scientists, collaborating among themselves, focus each on their proper methods and skills, in accordance with the Smithian principles of the ‘division of labour’ and ‘comparative advantage’. Of course, learning to analyse and critique each other’s methods, concepts, and data is essentially important.

Engaging in such collaborative framework would inevitably mean multi-authored projects and publications. Again, I do not suggest these should come at the expense of ‘traditional’ single-authored work by historians. Rather, I suggest having both, with multi-authored projects supplementing the single-authored ones. After all, some historical research, aimed at analysing new historical data (and thus heavily based on new archival material), or engaging with purely historiographical questions and debates, may not always be a good fit for a collaborative publication with colleagues from other fields. Also, historians would need, at times, to write up single-authored papers providing historical contextualisation and explanations of archaeological and palaeo-scientific findings, tailored for a non-specialist audience, made up, inter alia, of historians.

Adopting a multi-authored and interdisciplinary approach to the study of the past would have many potential benefits. On the most basic level, it would allow historians – and indeed their colleagues in other cognate fields – to develop new ideas and methods to tackle outstanding questions, by integrating non-textual evidence into their own research framework and by sharing their textual evidence with their colleagues in other sciences. Shifting to an interdisciplinary and collaborative research will contribute not only to resolving these controversies: it will also open new doors – and indeed opportunities – for creating new knowledge and developing new methods, with which even more new knowledge can be produced. This is very much aligned with the interdisciplinary and collaborative vision of the founding fathers of the French Annales school, Lucien Febvre and Marc Bloch, nearly a century ago.Footnote 87 The time has now come, I believe, to carry out this scholarly dictate. We live in very exciting times, scientifically speaking, when new palaeo-scientific methods are being created, perfected and revolutionised at an unprecedented speed and scale, transforming our knowledge and perception of the past. Historians should, by all means, join their colleagues in other fields to pursue commonly shared scholarly interests, goals and visions and help advancing the science of the past to a new level.

Importantly, this conceptual and methodological shift should come not only from scholars but also institutions and funding bodies. Universities (currently undergoing acute financial crises) may consider creating interdisciplinary positions a beneficial option to attract funding and boost up the impact of their faculty members’ research. Likewise, UK Research and Innovation (UKRI) consortia, including AHRC (Arts and Humanities Research Council), ESRC (Economic and Social Research Council) and NERC (Natural Environment Research Council) are currently not institutionally well-equipped to assess interdisciplinary proposals and tend to be cautious about supporting them – in contrast with ERC (European Research Council) funding schemes that are meant for inherently interdisciplinary teams. Again, adopting different strategies and priorities, gearing towards and encouraging multi-disciplinary projects, involving scholars from different fields, would be a vitally important step in reshaping UK research landscape, making it both more innovative and more impactful.

Footnotes

*

This paper is dedicated to Professor Christopher Dyer.

References

Notes

1 Canadian universities are one (bad) example of this tendency: they did not replace any of their economic historians (in the chronological order): David Farmer (University of Saskatchewan, passed away in 1994); Andrew Watson (University of Toronto, retired in 1995); John H. Munro (University of Toronto, retired in 2004); Jon Cohen (University of Toronto, retired in 2005); Richard Hoffmann (York University, retired in 2008); George Grantham (McGill University, retired in 2009); John Langdon (University of Alberta, retired in 2010); Mary MacKinnon (McGill University, passed away in 2010); Richard Unger (University of British Columbia, retired in 2010); Nathan Sussman (University of Western Ontario, moved to the Bank of Israel in 2010); Eona Karakacili (University of Western Ontario, left in 2017); John Drendel (University of Quebec in Montreal, retired in 2022).

2 At the same time, however, we should undoubtedly welcome that new scholarship that shifts away from a Eurocentric perspective towards other regions, as it provides some vital comparative insights in global economic history and thus contributes to the ongoing debates about the ‘Great Divergence’ between the ‘west’ and the ‘rest’.

3 Daniel Curtis, Bas Van Bavel, and Tim Soens, ‘History and the Social Sciences: Shock Therapy with Medieval Economic History as the Patient’, Social Science History, 40:4 (2016), 751–74.

4 As it happened, for instance, at Cambridge (upon the retirement of John Hatcher in 2009), Durham (upon the retirement of Richard Britnell in 2003), Queen’s University Belfast (upon the retirement of Bruce Campbell in 2012) and at Birmingham (after Christopher Dyer’s move to the University of Leicester in 2003).

5 Chris Briggs, ‘Current Trends and Future Directions in the Rural History of Later Medieval England (c. 1200–c. 1500)’, Rural History, 34:2 (2023), 318–29.

6 The following is a representative and by no means an exhaustive list of the last seven years’ publications (2018–2025, in an alphabetic order of authors): Mark Bailey, After the Black Death. Economy, Society and the Law in Fourteenth-Century (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021); Chris Briggs and Phillipp Schofield, ‘The Evolution of Manor Courts in Medieval England, C.1250–1350: The Evidence of the Personal Actions’, Journal of Legal History, 41:1 (2020), 1–28; Jordan Claridge and Spike Gibbs, ‘Waifs and strays: property rights in late medieval England’, Journal of British Studies, 61:1 (2022), 50–82; Christopher Dyer, Peasants Making History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2022); Spike Gibbs, Lordship, State Formation and Local Authority in Late Medieval and Early Modern England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2023); John Hatcher, ‘Peasant Productivity and Welfare in the Middle Ages and Beyond’, Past & Present, 262 (2024), 281–314; B. Jervis, C. Briggs, A. Forward, T. Gromelski, and M. Tompkins. The Material Culture of English Rural Households C.1250–1600 (Cardiff: Cardiff University Press, 2023); Tom, Johnson, Law in Common: Legal Cultures in Late Medieval England (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020); Susan Kilby, Peasant Perspectives on the Medieval Landscape: A Study of Three Communities (Hatfield: University of Hertfordshire Press, 2020); Peter L. Larson, Rethinking the Great Transition: Community and Economic Growth in County Durham, 1349–1660 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020); Phillipp Schofield, ‘Wales and the Great Famine of the Early Fourteenth Century’, Welsh History Review, 29:2 (2018), 143–67; idem, Phillipp R. Schofield, ‘Peasants and Food Security in England and Wales C. 1300’, Journal of Medieval History, 49 (2023), 588–606; Philip Slavin, Experiencing Famine in Fourteenth-Century Britain (Turnhout: Brepols, 2019). For a further discussion of these recent trends, see Briggs, “Current Trends”.

7 A good idea of the nature of publications in local economic history can be gleaned from annual reviews of periodical literature in Economic History Review.

8 The vitality of research within the field of agrarian history of pre-Industrial Low Countries is reflected in the ongoing publication series CORN (Comparative Rural History Network Publications; between 1999 and 2022, 20 volumes dedicated to different topics in rural history of different European regions have appeared): https://www.brepols.net/series/corn#publications. In Spain, ongoing innovative work (often regional in nature), grounded in unpublished archival data, has been carried out by historians including Antoni Furió (University of Valencia), Pere Benito i Monclús, Pol Serrahima i Balius and Joan Maltas i Montoro (University of Lleida). Outside of Spain, recent work of Adam Franklin-Lyons should also be mentioned: Adam Franklin-Lyons, Shortage and Famine in the Late Medieval Crown of Aragon (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2022).

9 Bruce M. S. Campbell, ‘Nature as Historical Protagonist: Environment and Society in Pre-Industrial England’, Economic History Review, 63:2 (2008), 281–314; idem, The Great Transition: Climate, Disease and Society in the Late-Medieval World (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016), Figures 4.3–4.4 (pp. 280–1) and 5.5 (p. 350).

10 Kathleen Pribyl, Farming, Famine and Plague. The Impact of Climate in Late Medieval England (Cham: Springer, 2017).

11 This is reflected in many of Dyer’s publications, both articles and monographs – including Christopher Dyer, Standards of Living in the Later Middle Ages. Social Change in England c.1200–1520 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989); idem, An Age of Transition? Economy and Society in England in the Later Middle Ages (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005); idem, Peasants Making History.

12 Sharon DeWitte and Philip Slavin, ‘Between Famine and Death: England on the Eve of the Black Death--Evidence from Paleoepidemiology and Manorial Accounts’, Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 44:1 (2013), 37–60.

15 For late-medieval and early modern manorial documents, their contents and potential, see P. D. A. Harvey, Manorial Records (London: British Records Association, 1984); Helen Watt, Welsh Manors and Their Records (Aberystwyth: National Library of Wales, 2000); Mark Bailey, The English Manor c.1200–c.1500 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002); Philip Slavin, ‘Manorial and Rural Sources’, In Understanding Medieval Primary Sources: Using Historical Sources to Discover Medieval Europe, edited by Joel Rosenthal (Abingdon: Routledge, 2011), pp. 131–48; Mark Forrest and Helen Watt, Manors and Manorial Documents after 1500 (St Albans: British Association for Local History, 2022).

16 Harvey, Manorial Records, pp. 25–41; Bailey, English Manor, pp. 97–166; Slavin, “Manorial and Rural Sources,” pp. 132–3.

17 Harvey, Manorial Records, pp. 55–68; Forrest and Watt, Manors and Manorial Documents; Slavin, “Manorial and Rural Sources,” pp. 132–6.

18 Harvey, Manorial Records, pp. 42–54; Bailey, English Manor, pp. 167–240; Slavin, “Manorial and Rural Sources,” p. 136.

19 Slavin, “Manorial and Rural Sources,” pp. 136–8. For a (non-exhaustive) list of medieval court rolls, see Judith Cripps, Rodney Hilton, and Janet Williamson, ‘Appendix I: A Survey of Medieval Manorial Court Rolls in England’, In Medieval Society and the Manor Court, edited by Zvi Razi and Richard Smith (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996), pp. 569–637 and (a much more complete) Manorial Documents Register: https://discovery.nationalarchives.gov.uk/manor-search (last accessed June 2025).

20 Harvey, Manorial Records, pp. 15–24; Bailey, English Manor, pp. 21–95; Slavin, “Manorial and Rural Sources,” pp. 132–3.

21 Bruce M. S. Campbell, and Ken Bartley. England on the Eve of the Black Death: An Atlas of Lay Lordship, Land and Wealth, 1300–49 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2006); Slavin, “Manorial and Rural Sources,” pp. 141–2.

22 https://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/help-with-your-research/research-guides/inquisitions-post-mortem/?utm_source=chatgpt.com (last accessed June 2025); the University of Winchester-based Mapping the Medieval Countryside project aims to create a digital edition of all the IPMs for the period 1236–1509. As of early 2025, the project completed the edition for the period c.1399–1447: https://inquisitionspostmortem.ac.uk/.

23 Christopher Dyer, ‘Peasant Farming in Late Medieval England: Evidence from the Tithe Estimations by Worcester Cathedral Priory’, In Peasants and Lords in the Medieval English Economy. Essays in Honour of Bruce M. S. Campbell, edited by Maryanne Kowaleski, John Langdon and Phillipp R. Schofield (Turnhout: Brepols, 2015), pp. 83–109.

24 Martha Carlin, ‘Cheating the Boss: Robert Carpenter’s Embezzlement Instructions (1261×1268) and Employee Fraud in Medieval England’, In Commercial Activity, Markets and Entrepreneurs in the Middle Ages: Essays in Honour of Richard Britnell, edited by Ben Dodds and Christian Liddy (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2011), pp. 183–98.

25 Slavin, Experiencing Famine, pp. 39–40.

26 Richard J. Cooper, Thomas M. Melvin, Ian Tyers, Rob J. S. Wilson, and Keith Briffa, ‘A Tree-Ring Reconstruction of East Anglian (UK) Hydroclimate Variability over the Last Millennium’, Climate Dynamics, 40 (2013), 1019–39 (annual data available at https://www.ncei.noaa.gov/access/paleo-search/study/12896); Rob Wilson, Dan Miles, Neil Loader, Tom Melvin, Richard Cooper, and Keith Briffa, ‘A Millennial Long March–July Precipitation Reconstruction for Southern-Central England’, Climate Dynamics, 40 (2013), 997–1017 (annual data available at https://catalog.data.gov/dataset/noaa-wds-paleoclimatology-southern-central-england-1000-year-march-july-precipitation-reconstru1).

27 Neil Loader, et al., ‘Summer Precipitation for the England and Wales Region, 1201–2000 CE, from Stable Oxygen Isotopes in Oak Tree Rings: 800 Years of UK Summer Precipitation’, Journal of Quaternary Science, 35 (2020), 731–36.

28 Samuel Johns, et al., ‘Minimally Invasive Vacuum-Aided Extraction Technique for the Lipid Analysis of Historic Parchment’, Analytical Chemistry, 96:34 (2024), 13811–20; Marc Vermeulen, et al., ‘Assessing the Effect of Minimally Invasive Lipid Extraction on Parchment Integrity by Artificial Ageing and Integrated Analytical Techniques’, Polymer Degradation and Stability, 230 (2024), 111076.

29 Slavin, Experiencing Famine, pp. 40–41.

30 This estimate derives from the comparison between the information regarding early summer weather contained in the Winchester Pipe rolls (extracted in Jan Titow, ‘Evidence of Weather in the Account Rolls of the Bishopric of Winchester, 1209–1350’, Economic History Review, 12:3 (1960), 360–407 and Jan Titow, ‘Le Climat à travers les rôles de comptabilité de l’évêché de Winchester (1350–1450)’, Annales. Economies, Sociétés, Civilisations, 25:2 (1970), 312–50) and the dendrochronological record (Wilson, et al., “A Millennial Long March–July Precipitation”). In the period 1251–1450, particularly glaring discrepancies can be identified for the years 1253, 1268, 1274, 1285, 1290–1291, 1329–1331, 1336, 1339–1340, 1346, 1362, 1368, 1378, 1386, 1402, 1420, 1423–1424.

31 David Stone, Decision-Making in Medieval Agriculture (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005); Chris Briggs, ‘Monitoring Demesne Managers through the Manor Court before and after the Black Death’, In Survival and Discord in Medieval Society. Essays in Honour of Christopher Dyer, edited by Richard Goddard, John Langdon and Miriam Muller (Turnhout: Brepols, 2010), pp. 179–95; Carlin, “Cheating the Boss”.

32 L. Bonfield, and L. R. Poos, ‘The Development of the Deathbed Transfer in Medieval English Manor Courts’, Cambridge Law Journal, 47:3 (1988), 403–27; Jane Whittle, The Development of Agrarian Capitalism: Land and Labour in Norfolk 1440–1580 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), Chapter 3, passim.

33 Mark Bailey, The Decline of Serfdom in Late Medieval England: From Bondage to Freedom (Woodbridge: Boydel and Brewer, 2014). Some examples of ‘conservative’ lords include Battle Abbey, Glastonbury Abbey, Winchester Bishopric and Winchester Cathedral Priory, all continuing their direct management into the late fifteenth century: Eleanor M. Searle, Lordship and Community: Battle Abbey and Its Banlieu, 1066–1538. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1974; I. J. E. Keil, ‘The Estates of the Abbey of Glastonbury in the Later Middle Ages. Unpublished PhD Thesis, University of Bristol, 1964, pp. 147–84; John Hare, ‘The Bishop and the Prior: Demesne Agriculture in Medieval Hampshire’, Agricultural History Review, 54 (2006): 187–212.

34 Philip Slavin, ‘A Rise and Fall of a Chaghadaid Community: Demographic Growth and Crisis in ‘Late-Medieval’ Semirech’ye (Zhetysu), c.1248–1345’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 33:2 (2023), 536–9.

35 Philip Slavin, ‘Plague Strikes Back: The Pestis Secunda of 1361–62 and Its Demographic Consequences in England and Wales’, Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies, 54:3 (2024), 457–91. See also, John Mullan, ‘Mortality, Gender, and the Plague of 1361–2 on the Estate of the Bishop of Winchester’, Cardiff Historical Papers (2007–8): 1–14.

36 Slavin, “Plague Strikes Back,” p. 482. The origins of the pestis secunda wave led to a debate between Slavin and Green: see, Philip Slavin, ‘Out of the West: Formation of a Permanent Plague Reservoir in South-Central Germany (1349–1356) and Its Implications’, Past & Present, 252 (2021), 3–51; Monica H. Green, ‘Out of the East (or North or South): A Response to Philip Slavin’, Past & Present, 256 (2022), 283–323; Philip Slavin, ‘Out of the West - and Neither East, nor North, or South (a Reply to Monica Green)’, Past & Present, 256 (2022), 325–60.

37 Slavin, “Plague Strikes Back,” p. 482. For the most up-to-date phylogenetic representation of post-Black Death lineages and their genomes, see Marcel Keller, et al, ‘A Refined Phylochronology of the Second Plague Pandemic in Western Eurasia’, BioRxiv [Preprint] (2023).

38 Keller et al., “Refined Phylochronology”, SI, Sections 10–11.

39 Slavin, Experiencing Famine, pp. 16–21.

40 Bruce, M.S. Campbell, English Seigniorial Agriculture, 1250–1450 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), p. 403.

41 Stephen Broadberry, Bruce M. S. Campbell, Alexander Klein, Mark Overton, and Bas van Leeuwen. British Economic Growth, 1270–1870 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015), p. 20.

42 Slavin, Experiencing Famine, pp. 16–21; Richard M. Smith, ‘Plagues and Peoples: The Long Demographic Cycle, 1250–1670’, In The Peopling of Britain: The Shaping of a Human Landscape, edited by Paul Slack and Ryk Ward. Linacre Lecture (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), p. 181; Hugo La Poutré, English Population, 1086–1377: A Modelling Approach. (Unpublished PhD Dissertation, University of Groningen, 2023), pp. 265–75, 346 and Hugo La Poutré and Richard Paping, ‘English Familial Demography C. 1300: A Reconstruction’, Social Science History (2025), early view (doi:10.1017/ssh.2025.17), note 2.

43 Slavin, “Plague Strikes Back,” pp. 477–80.

44 Slavin, “Plague Strikes Back,” p. 483.

45 For instance, J. Bates, C. A. Petrie, and R. N. Singh, ‘Cereals, Calories and Change: Exploring Approaches to Quantification in Indus Archaeobotany’, Archaeological and Anthropological Sciences, 10:7 (2018), 1703–16; Jennifer Bates, et al., ‘Cereal Grains and Grain Pulses: Reassessing the Archaeo-Botany of the Indus Civilisation and Painted Grey Ware Period Occupation at Alamgirpur District Meerut U.P’, Indian Journal of Archaeology, 6 (2021), 495–52; Ferran Antolín, et al., ‘An Archaeobotanical and Stable Isotope Approach to Changing Agricultural Practices in the NW Mediterranean Region around 4000 BC’, The Holocene, 34:2 (2024), 239–54.

46 More recent studies on English agricultural output, within both the seigniorial and peasant sectors, include Stone, Decision-Making, pp. 262–72; idem, ‘The Consumption of Field Crops in Late Medieval England’, In Food in Medieval England. Diet and Nutrition, edited by C. M. Woolgar, D. Serjeantson and T. Waldron (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), pp. 19–20; Alexandra Sapoznik, ‘The Productivity of Peasant Agriculture: Oakington, Cambridgeshire, 1360–99’, Economic History Review, 66:2 (2013), 518–44; Broadberry et al., British Economic Growth, pp. 80–129; Philip Slavin, ‘Mites and Merchants: The Crisis of English Wool and Textile Trade Revisited, c. 1275–1330’, Economic History Review, 73 (2020), 885–913; John Hatcher, ‘Peasant Productivity and Welfare in the Middle Ages and Beyond’, Past & Present, 262 (2024), 281–314.

47 Christopher Dyer, Standards of Living in the Later Middle Ages. Social Change in England C.1200–1520. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 151–87; idem, An Age of Transition? Economy and Society in England in the Later Middle Ages (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), pp. 131–2.

48 Christopher Dyer, ‘Changes in Diet in the Late Middle Ages: The Case of Harvest Workers’, Agricultural HIstory Review, 36:1 (1988), 21–37. See also, Miriam Müller, ‘Food, Hierarchy, and Class Conflict’, In Survival and Discord in Medieval Society: Essays in Honour of Christopher Dyer, edited by Richard Goddard, John Langdon and Miriam Müller (Turnhout: Brepols, 2010), pp. 231–48, where the author compared changes of food allocation to the famuli on Winchester Bishopric demesnes at only three benchmarked dates (1210–1211, 1301–1302, and 1409–1410).

49 East Susssex Record Office (Brighton), SAS G/644/1–139 (Alciston); Huntinton Library (Pasadena, California), BA 335–430 (Barnhorn); Hampshire Archives (Winchester) 11M59/B1/1–202.

50 Martin Hicks and Alison Hicks. St Gregory’s Priory, Northgate, Canterbury. Excavations 1988–1991 (Canterbury: Canterbury Archaeological Trust, 2001); Jean D. Dawes, and J. R. Magilton. The Cemetery of St. Helen-on-the-Walls, Aldwark (York: York Archaeological Trust, 1980); Reg Jackson, Excavations at St James’s Priory, Bristol (Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2006); Birthe Kjølbye-Biddle, ‘Dispersal or Concentration: The Disposal of the Winchester Dead over 2000 Years’, In Death in Towns: Urban Responses to the Dying and the Dead, edited by Steven Bassett, (Leicester, 1992), pp. 210–47.

51 The Churchyard, Wharram: A Study of Settlement on the Yorkshire Wolds, Vol. 11. Edited by S. Mays, C. Harding and C. Heighway (York: Yorkshire University Archaeological Publication, 2007); Waldron, Tony. St Peter’s, Barton-Upon-Humber, Lincolnshire. A Parish Church and Its Community. Vol. 2: The Human Remains (Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2007).

52 Gundula Müldner and Michael Richards, ‘Fast or Feast: Reconstructing Diet in Later Medieval England by Stable Isotope Analysis’, Journal of Archaeological Science, 32 (2005), 39–48; Gundula Müldner, ‘Investigating Medieval Diet and Society by Stable Isotope Analysis of Human Bone’, In Reflections: 50 Years of Medieval Archaeology, 1957–2007, edited by R. Gilchrist and A. Reynolds (Leeds: Society for Medieval Archaeology & Maney Publishing, 2009), pp. 327–46. For a similar study in late-medieval Brandenburg, see Mariana Zechini, et al., ‘Diachronic Changes in Diet in Medieval Berlin: Comparison of Dietary Isotopes from Pre- and Post-Black Death Adults’, Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports, 38 (2021), 103064.

53 One important exception is Gundula Müldner and Michael Richards, ‘Stable Isotope Evidence for 1500 Years of Human Diet at the City of York, UK’, American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 133 (2007), 682–97. Nevertheless, the study provides a rough periodisation of Roman, Anglo-Saxon, High, Later and Post-Medieval eras, rather than approximate centuries.

54 Broadberry et al., British Economic Growth, pp. 73–9.

55 Mark Bailey, A Marginal Economy? East Anglian Breckland in the Later Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 245–56; John Hare, A Prospering Society: Wiltshire in the Later Middle Ages (Hatfield: University of Hertfordshire Press, 2011), pp. 63–74.

56 Adam Izdebski, et al., ‘Palaeoecological Data Indicates Land-Use Changes across Europe Linked to Spatial Heterogeneity in Mortality During the Black Death Pandemic’, Nature Ecology & Evolution, 6 (2022), 297–306.

57 John Hatcher, Rural Economy and Society in the Duchy of Cornwall 1300–1500 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970), pp. 16, 23; Broadberry et al, British Economic Growth, pp. 23–5 and 66–7.

58 Campbell Bartley. England on the Eve of the Black Death.

59 J. Ambrose Raftis, Assart Data and Land Values: Two Studies in the East Midlands, 1200–1350 (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1974).

60 For instance, Philip Slavin, ‘Market Failure During the Great Famine in England and Wales (1315–1317)’, Past & Present, 222 (2014), 9–49; idem, Experiencing Famine; Phillipp R, ‘Famine in Medieval England’, In The Routledge Handbook of Medieval Rural Life, edited by Miriam Müller (London: Routledge, 2021), pp. 138–52; idem, ‘Peasants and Food Security in England and Wales c. 1300’, Journal of Medieval History, 49 (2023), 588–606.

61 Slavin, Experiencing Famine, pp. 285–9.

62 Philip Slavin, ‘The Great Bovine Pestilence and Its Economic and Environmental Consequences in England and Wales, 1318–50’, Economic History Review, 65:4 (2012), 1239–66.

63 Dewitte and Slavin, “Between Famine and Plague”.

64 Mervyn Susser and Zena Stein, ‘Timing in Prenatal Nutrition: a Reprise of the Dutch Famine Study,’ Nutrition Reviews, 52 (1994), 84–94; E. Susser et al., ‘Schizophrenia after Prenatal Famine. Further Evidence’, Archives of General Psychiatry, 53:1 (1996), 25–31; Bas Heijmans, et al., ‘Persistent Epigenetic Differences Associated with Prenatal Exposure to Famine in Humans’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 105 (2008), 17046–9

65 Oonagh Walsh, Insanity, Power and Politics in Nineteenth-Century Ireland: The Connaught District Lunatic Asylum. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013; Oonagh Walsh, ‘Gender and Insanity in Ireland, 1800–1923’, In Gender and History: Ireland, 1852–1922, edited by Jyoti Atwal, Ciara Breathnach and Sarah Anne Buckley (London: Routledge, 2022), pp. 117–29; Catherine Cox, Negotiating Insanity in the Southeast of Ireland, 1820–1900. (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2012). In addition, see also Heike Eichenauer and Ulrike Ehlert, ‘The Association between Prenatal Famine, DNA Methylation and Mental Disorders: A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis’, Clinical Epigenetics, 15:1 (2023): 10.1186/s13148-023-01557-y; González-Rodríguez, Patricia, Jens Füllgrabe, and Bertrand Joseph, ‘The Hunger Strikes Back: An Epigenetic Memory for Autophagy’, Cell Death & Differentiation, 30:6 (2023), 1404–15

66 Thus, Adrian W. Briggs, Udo Stenzel, Matthias Meyer, Johannes Krause, Martin Kircher and Svante Pääbo, ‘Removal of Deaminated Cytosines and Detection of in Vivo Methylation in Ancient DNA,’ Nucleic Acids Research, 38:6 (2010), e87; Llamas B, Holland ML, Chen K, Cropley JE, Cooper A, Suter CM, ‘High-Resolution Analysis of Cytosine Methylation in Ancient DNA,’ PLoS ONE, 7:1 (2012), e30226. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0030226; David Gokhman, Eitan Lavi, Kay Prüfer, Mario F. Fraga, José A. Riancho, Janet Kelso, Svante Pääbo, Eran Meshorer and Liran Carmel, ‘Reconstructing the DNA Methylation Maps of the Neandertal and the Denisovan,’ Science, 344 (2014), 523–527; Jakob Skou Pedersen et al., ‘Genome-wide nucleosome map and cytosine methylation levels of an ancient human genome,’ Genome Research, 24 (2014), 454–466; David Gokhman, Eran Meshorer, and Liran Carmel, ‘Epigenetics: It’s Getting Old. Past Meets Future in Paleoepigenetics’, Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 31:4 (2016), 290–300; David Gokhman, Anat Malul, and Liran Carmel, ‘Inferring Past Environments from Ancient Epigenomes’, Molecular Biology and Evolution, 34 (2017), 2429–38; Yoav Mathov, Daniel Batyrev, Eran Meshorer, and Liran Carmel, ‘Harnessing Epigenetics to Study Human Evolution’, Current Opinion in Genetics & Development, 62 (2020), 23–29; Arielle Barouch, Yoav Mathov, Eran Meshorer, Benjamin Yakir, and Liran Carmel, ‘Reconstructing DNA Methylation Maps of Ancient Populations’, Nucleic Acids Research, 52:4 (2024), 1602–12; Yoav Mathov, Malka Nissim-Rafinia, Chen Leibson, Nir Galun, Tomas Marques-Bonet, Arye Kandel, Meir Liebergal, Eran Meshorer, and Liran Carmel, ‘Inferring DNA Methylation in Non-Skeletal Tissues of Ancient Specimens’, Nature Ecology & Evolution, 9 (2024), 153–65.

67 I. Grainger, D. Hawkins, L. Cowal, and R. Mikulski The Black Death Cemetery, East Smithfield (London. London: Museum of London Archaeology Service, 2008); Sam Pfizenmaier, Charterhouse Square: Black Death Cemetery and Carthusian Monastery, Meat Market and Suburb (London: Museum of London Archaeology, 2016); Burials and the Black Death in Hereford. New Library Excavation, Hereford Cathedral. Edited by Derek Hurst (Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2025); Hugh Willmott, et al., ‘A Black Death Mass Grave at Thornton Abbey: The Discovery and Examination of a Fourteenth-Century Rural Catastrophe’, Antiquity, 94 (2020), 179–96; Craig Cessford, ‘The St. John’s Hospital Cemetery and Environs, Cambridge: Contextualizing the Medieval Urban Dead’, Archaeological Journal, 172 (2015), 52–120; Craig Cessford, et al., ‘Beyond Plague Pits: Using Genetics to Identify Responses to Plague in Medieval Cambridgeshire’, European Journal of Archaeology, 24 (2021), 1–23; Keller et al., “Refined Phylochronology”, SI, pp. 15–7 (Sections 2.7–2.8).

68 This has been already suggested in Slavin, Experiencing Famine, pp. 361–2.

69 Gunnar Kaati, Lars Bygren, Marcus Pembrey, and Michael Sjostrom, ‘Transgenerational Response to Nutrition, Early Life Circumstances and Longevity’, European Journal of Human Genetics, 15 (2007), 784–90.

70 Dewitte and Slavin, “Between Famine and Plague”.

71 Slavin, Experiencing Famine, pp. 60, 63–4, 72.

72 Slavin, “Mites and Merchants”; idem, “Great Bovine Pestilence”; idem, Philip, ‘Flogging a Dead Cow: Coping with Animal Panzootic on the Eve of the Black Death’, In Crises in Economic and Social History: A Comparative Perspective. People, Markets, Goods: Economies and Societies in History, edited by A. T. Brown, Andy Burn and Rob Doherty (Woodbridge: Boydel & Brewer, 2015), pp. 111–36.

73 Annelise Binois-Roman, L’archéologie des épizooties: mise en évidence et diagnostic des crises de mortalité chez les animaux d’élevage, du Néolithique à Pasteur. Unpublished PhD Thesis, Université Panthéon-Sorbonne - Paris I, 2017; Annelise Binois, Christophe Petit, and Benoît Rossignol, “À la recherche des crises de mortalité animale et humaine en Gaule du Nord durant l’Antiquité ”. In Conditions environnementales de l’exploitation des espaces ruraux en Gaule du Nord, edited by Michel Reddé (Bordeaux: Editions Ausonius, 2019), pp. 17–21.

74 David Allen, et al., ‘Excavations in Bierton, 1979: A Late Iron Age ‘Belgic’ Settlement and Evidence for a Roman Villa and a Twelfth to Eighteenth Century Manorial Complex’, Records of Buckinghamshire, 28 (1986), 92.

75 Today, the task of surveying and identifying late-medieval animal remains is easier than ever before, thanks to recent surveys of hundreds of archaeological sites containing animal bones: Matilda Holmes, Southern England: A Review of Animal Remains from Saxon, Medieval and Post-Medieval Archaeological Sites (Portsmouth: Historic England, 2017) and Umberto Albarella, A Review of Animal Bone Evidence from Central England (Portsmouth: Historic England, 2019).

76 There are also some manorial documents (primarily, from the 1370s on) written on paper, but these were extremely uncommon.

77 Johns, et al., “Minimally Invasive Vacuum-Aided Extraction Technique”; Vermeulen, et al., “Assessing the Effect”.

78 Johns, et al., ‘Minimally Invasive’.

79 Harvey, Manorial Records, pp. 37–9, 51–2, 64–5.

80 See above, note 48.

81 Staffordshire and Stoke-on-Trent Archive Service, D641/1/4C/1–8 and Gloucestershire Archives, D108/M42–44 (Thornbury); Lincolnshire Archives, K.R. 1–498 (Kirton in Lindsey); Staffordshire and Stoke-on-Trent Archive Service, D(W)0/3/1–176 and The National Archives, SC 2/202/56 (Alrewas); The National Archives, DL 30/478/1–14, 30/479/1–15, 30/480/1–15, 30/481/1–12, 30/482/1–15, 30/483/1–14, 30/484/1–18, 30/485/1–16, 30/486/1–13 (Knaresborough); West Yorkshire Archive Service (Leeds), MX/M6/1/1–149, MX/M6/7/1–6 (Methley); Leeds University Library MD225/1–262 and British Library, Add Ch 54408 (Wakefield); The National Archives, SC 2/215/1–224/19 (Dyffryn Clwyd)

82 These ideas were developed in my conversations with Prof. Matthew Collins (University of Copenhagen and Cambridge University), held in Spring 2023; I fully recognise his contribution to these.

83 David Stone, ‘The Productivity and Management of Sheep in Late Medieval England’, Agricultural History Review, 51:1 (2003), 9–10.

84 Chantal Camenisch, et al.,‘The 1430s: A Cold Period of Extraordinary Internal Climate Variability During the Early Spörer Minimum with Social and Economic Impacts in North-Western and Central Europe’, Climate of the Past, 12 (2016), 2107–26; Kathleen Pribyl, ‘Climate Induced Crisis: The 1430s in England, a Difficult Decade’, Tempo, 30 (2024): 10.1590/TEM-980-542X2024v300210e10; Ulf Büntgen, et al., ‘Recent European Drought Extremes Beyond Common Era Background Variability’, Nature Geoscience, 14 (2021), 1–7. On shortened grazing season in fifteenth-century Scottish Highlands, see Richard Oram, and W. Paul Adderley, ‘Lordship and Environmental Change in Central Highland Scotland c.1300–c.1400’, Journal of the North Atlantic, 1 (2008), 74–84.

85 Umberto Albarella, A Review of Animal Bone Evidence from Central England (Portsmouth: Historic England, 2019), p. 218; Cameron, Alison, Judith A. Stones, and Chris Croly, ‘Excavations at Aberdeen’s Carmelite Friary, 1980–1994’, Internet Archaeology, 52 (2019), 10.11141/ia.52.1; Umberto Albarella and Simon J. M. Davis, ‘Mammals and Birds from Launceston Castle, Cornwall: Decline in Status and the Rise of Agriculture’, Circaea, 12:1 (1996), 46.

86 Richard Thomas, ‘Zooarchaeology, Improvement and the British Agricultural Revolution’, International Journal of Historical Archaeology, 9:2 (2005), 71–88; Richard Thomas, Matilda Holmes, and James Morris, ‘“So Bigge as Bigge May Be”: Tracking Size and Shape Change in Domestic Livestock in London (AD 1220–1900)’, Journal of Archaeological Science, 40 (2013), 3309–3325.

87 See, for instance, Lucien Febvre, Combats pour l’histoire (Paris: Armand Colin, 1953); Susan W. Friedman, Marc Bloch, Sociology and Geography. Encountering Changing Disciplines (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).

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Figure 1. Total Number of Articles (in Quinquennial Sums) and Relative Share of Articles Dealing with Medieval Topics, Published in Economic History Review, 1970–2024.Source: Economic History Review Vols. 23 (1970) – 77 (2024).

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Figure 2. The County-Level Distribution of English Manorial Accounts, 1208–1529.Source: Slavin, Manorial Accounts Database (tabulated data on annual crop yields, crop acreage and livestock heads deriving from manorial accounts and extents from over 2,600 English demesnes for the period c.1208–1529); Manorial Documents Register (https://discovery.nationalarchives.gov.uk/manor-search).

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Figure 3. National, aggregated net crop yields in England, indexed on 1270–1429 (1270–1429 = 100 = average crop yield).Source: Bruce M.S. Campbell, Three Centuries of English Crop Yields (https://www.bahs.org.uk/crop-yields-database) (accessed June 2025), supplemented by Manorial accounts database for the period 1311–1320.Note: The figures are indexed on average net yields (inclusive of tithes, but exclusive of seed) for the period 1270–1429 (1270–1429 =100 = average crop yield). These are aggregated per-seed yields of all grains weighted together, according to each grain’s relative contribution to the total ‘national’ demesne acreage, and calculated as the ratio between a previous year’s seed and the current year’s harvest minus seed corn (annual harvest share invested in seeding).

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Figure 4. Schematic Phylogenetic Tree of post-Black Death Genomes Associated with so-called Branches 1A and 1B.Sources: Redrawn from Keller et al., ‘Refined Phylochronology’, SI Fig. 26; Katherine Eaton, et al. ‘Emergence, Continuity, and Evolution of Yersinia Pestis Throughout Medieval and Early Modern Denmark’. Current Biology 33 (2023): Fig, 3; Joanna Bonczarowska, et al. ‘Ancient Yersinia Pestis Genomes Lack the Virulence-Associated Ypfφ Prophage Present in Modern Pandemic Strains’. Proceedings of the Royal Society B 290 (2023): Fig. 2.

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Figure 5. English Wool Yields, 1211–1495 (in Quinquennial Means): (a) in Lbs of Fleece per Adult Sheep on Winchester Bishopric Demesnes, 1211–1454 and (b) in Lbs of Fleece per Lambs on Alciston Demesne (Sussex), 1336–1495. Both Series are Indexed on 1336–1370 (1336–1370 = 100 = 1.54 lbs for Adult Sheep Fleece on Winchester Bishopric Demesnes and 0.50 lbs for Lamb Fleece on Alciston Demesne).Source: Slavin, ‘Merchants and Mites’; Manorial Accounts Database; M. J. Stephenson, ‘Wool Yields in the Medieval Economy’. The Economic History Review 41, no. 3 (1988): 368–91; East Sussex and Brighton and Hove Record Office (the Keep), SAS-G/644/91–139 (Alciston manorial accounts). Notes: The post-1454 period trends are reconstructed solely on the basis of Alciston wool yields, as no comparative material from other demesne was available.