Historical Setting, 626 C.E. On the River near Trier
It is breezes from the northeast that rustle the leaves left-over through the winter from the autumn-turning that signal a storm to come.
“I hear you will all be crossing over the river tonight and setting fire to the vineyards of the strangers who have planted starts on the other side.”
The old fellow doesn’t stop his work to answer me, so I must follow him for his simple affirmation, “Yup.”
“Where can I find your captain?”
“He will be down soon. They all will. I just wish I was young and strong and able to go too.”
“How many men are going?”
“Every able-bodied man we have! They will sure be glad to have you with them but you’ll need to have a weapon. Mostly they are using pruning knives and axes. Some have swords, but you will need to carry something.”
“What is on the other side? A whole army of soldiers?”
“’Don’t know. We’ve never been over there and they’ve never been over here. We just have to be prepared for the worst.”
“So, if you don’t know them, why are you making these plans to burn them out?”
“They are Jewish, against all that is Christian. They bring Jewish vine starts from foreign lands, to plant right there across the river from us. It just takes one good waft of winds like we have tonight, and all of our vineyards will be tainted Jewish.”
From this land point where the boats will launch, I can look across the river and see the expanse of vineyards — young starts of plants in wide spread rows – maybe over there they only dream of what is on this side the river. On this side are vines with generations of maturity and all this well pruned vinery must be very productive, year after year. As for me, the only burning of vineyards I’ve ever seen has been the autumn bonfires of the heaps of prunings. I have to wonder if this plan to burn new vineyards is even viable. And in all my years I’ve never heard of this concern of grapes on one side of a river empowered to change the grapes on another. This sounds to me like a rumor wrought in blind prejudice, not like true vineculture.
Here are the vintners now, coming down to the boats some alone, some walking together, all armed with heavy blades forged only to be tools for planting and harvest.
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 