My British Empire

Chapter 484: i am not noble

Chapter 484 I am not a nobleman

With the actions of the intelligence agencies, especially the actions of the Palace Intelligence Service, which focuses on domestic execution, Hampshire was suddenly in a mess.

Headed by the sheriff of Hampshire and the supervisor, plus some officials and businessmen involved, a total of more than one hundred people were sent to Ireland.

Fortunately, with the years of official admission examinations, England's officials are almost saturated.

The departure of a large number of officials in Hampshire has excited the middle-level officials. England has not had a county-level official taken down for a long time. As a result, it is unknown how many official positions will be vacated.

So, the next day, the cabinet drafted a list of people to serve in Hampshire. The loss of a large number of officials did not bring any turmoil to Hampshire.

As soon as the Hampshire incident happened, it once again proved the royal power's control over the United Kingdom, and His Majesty the King's prestige in the officialdom became more and more prominent.

The central government took a tacit attitude towards His Majesty's actions, and then took advantage of this opportunity to strengthen the power of the central government. Those who were appointed and dismissed were more obedient.

Finally, in the past few years since the cabinet was established, it has taken advantage of its own advantages step by step to slowly plunder local rights and continuously improve the prestige of the central government.

It can be said that in view of the principle that the **** determines the head, the cabinet ministers naturally began to strengthen the central authority and deprive the local authority. This is a natural law.

And His Majesty the King is also happy to see this. At this time in Europe, centralization is the general trend.

In order to solve the situation of official saturation, His Majesty the King turned his attention to France.

...

In the early spring of March, on the dry ground outside Rouen, some weeds had grown on the ground that was originally covered with corpses, revealing a little bit of greenery. No one would have imagined that half a year ago, the ground was still covered with corpses and blood flowed like rivers.

In the wheat fields outside the city, due to the truce in Rouen, the winter wheat sown in autumn seems to be growing well after being fertilized by human beings, and it has already revealed an attractive green color. If nothing else, it will be a bumper harvest year.

In a village 20 miles outside of Rouen, there are about 20 households, with smoke rising from the kitchen, dogs barking, **** crowing, and green farm vegetables behind the house, it is a happy scene of a farm family.

However, a half-brick house located in the center of the village is the only brick house in the village, and it is also the most spacious and bright big house.

This is the meeting hall of the village, an important venue where the village chief convenes all the villagers to discuss major issues, and it is also the barn where the wheat is harvested in the village. It can be said that this is the most important place in the village.

Today, the village head, Moss, has a bitter face. The wrinkles on his face seem to have become a blooming chrysanthemum, revealing a lot of troubles.

Beside him, an old man with a gray beard is the oldest old man in the village, very prestigious.

Sitting on the other side was a man in his thirties with a strong figure and thick arms. The most conspicuous thing was that his left sleeve was empty.

He is a mercenary who once wandered outside. He came back after losing his arm. He has always been the object of the young people in the village, and he is also the most powerful fighting force in the village.

"At first, we thought that the war was over and life would be peaceful again. Who knew that the rebel army had wiped out all the stocks, causing our granary to bottom out. How will we live in the next few months?"

Village head Moss glanced at the few bags of wheat beside him and sighed.

"Moss, we have to find a way. We will get through it in a few months. At worst, a few people will starve to death!"

The old man with a gray beard heard this and looked down upon him. He still stared and said loudly.

"Moss! We can't give up!" Peevy, who had a broken arm, quickly echoed, waved his strong right arm, and said forcefully: "Otherwise, I will take the young people in the village to go hunting together. Anyway, those nobles The lords can’t control us anymore, the English can say, allow us to enter the forest to hunt and supplement food!”

Due to the long-term war, agricultural losses have been heavy, and farmers have no food in their hands.

In order to stabilize the rule, but also to gather the population, the new Governor of Normandy issued a decree, allowing farmers to freely go out and hunt in the forest before the wheat harvest.

"No, who knows how long England can occupy? I heard the old man in the village say that the English ran away after only a few months of occupation!" They all turned white with anger.

"It's not like you don't know the means of the noble lord. If we do this, it will be a disaster for the entire village!"

The old man sighed and closed his eyes, as if recalling the cruel methods of the nobles, his face trembled uncontrollably.

That's it, the topic ends here, and the three people sitting there are suddenly helpless, worrying about the survival of the entire village.

At this time, a villager suddenly said that several gentlemen from the city of Rouen had come.

Village head Moss looked puzzled and walked out of the village to welcome these masters from Rouen.

When he came to the village, he saw a middle-aged man with a sharp beard and a pointed face. He was Florent, the tax official in Rouen. Every year when the wheat was harvested, he would lead his men to work from village to house. Taxes are horribly annoying.

At this time, he was flattering an Englishman, showing a smiling face, bending over, with indescribable respect on his face.

"Respected Lord Florent, and several respected adults, I am the village chief Moss, may I help you?" Moss couldn't figure out the situation, so he could only bow his head respectfully and walked to the old acquaintance In front of him, he asked softly.

Florent, who used to be a tax officer, looked at a young man next to him apologetically, and then said proudly:

"Moss, let me tell you, this is Lord Thomas Befort of Rouen. From now on, dozens of nearby villages, including yours, are under the control of this Lord. You must obey his orders. !"

"Yes, my lord, this is what it should be!" Moss was a little terrified when he heard this, and he quickly saluted the Englishman respectfully.

"Don't say that, I'm just an inconspicuous official of the king and the governor. I was just entrusted to manage this new land that joined the kingdom!"

Hearing this, Moss dared to look up and take a serious look.

The young man who spoke was only about twenty-five or six years old, with dark blue eyes, a straight nose, long black hair, and decent clothes, he looked like a nobleman.

"My lord! Excuse me, what is your family?" Moss asked.

"Why are you asking this?" The young man looked at the village chief who answered decently in front of him, and couldn't help being a little surprised after hearing this.

"Knowing your family can only promote your rule to the villagers, so that they know that we are your subjects!"

"No need to be like this, I'm just an official, representing His Majesty the King to govern you, I'm not a nobleman!"

(end of this chapter)

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