~Then~
Monarchs always seemed to be in need of money and that was the primary reason for James Maynard being offered the five hundred acres of land, known locally as Yew Glade. Usually estates were given away as a reward for fighting in or financing a war, often with some sort of title thrown in. Yew Glade had a reputation though; the old Tudor hall there had been destroyed by fire, as had the ancient chapel. Giving it away might be seen as more of an insult than a reward, so the land was still owned by the crown, when George II found himself in need of money.
George II was the last British monarch to be born abroad; he was born and brought up in Germany. He was also the last British monarch to lead an army into battle. He liked wars, wine, women and hedonism, an expensive mixture. Something needed to be sold to pay off a few royal debts, discreetly of course. There was no title associated with the five hundred acres of Yew Glade, but the soil was fertile and the area had potential. By luck an agent for the crown had mentioned the land to a friend of James Maynard. One thing led to another and in the summer of seventeen forty seven, James found himself looking at a large chapel a few miles to the north of Oxford. He looked at the description of the land and property for sale and was slightly perplexed.
"A chapel destroyed by fire is mentioned." He said. "Yet I see a large and well cared for building."
"The local villages have a long standing tradition of keeping the chapel in good repair."
The crown agent was a local man from Oxford, with a minor title and all the pretentions associated with minor nobility. James hated Simon Fairfax already and he'd only spent the morning with him. The man had even insisted on bringing two armed servants with him, as though he expected to be assailed by bandits a few miles out of Oxford.
"But the cost !" Said James. "How do they raise the money ?"
His guide looked uncomfortable, probably trying to avoid the bad reputation of the property the king wished to sell. The price being asked wasn't cheap though, for a piece of land with a troubled past and no title attached to it. James Maynard was already veering towards looking further west for somewhere to build a family home.
"Four local villages supply the labour and some of the money." Answered Simon. "Plus there are two other estates in the area, with a tradition of offering help."
They'd already ridden past the ruins of the burnt out Tudor manor house. Every decent piece of surviving brickwork had been robbed, they'd even taken a pick to the foundations. James had seen some of the bricks in the walls of sheds and barns on the way up to the chapel. The locals, the same people who'd robbed out everything useful from the old hall. He was supposed to believe that those very same people, gave their money to rebuild a chapel in the middle of nowhere. It didn't make sense, unless they viewed the chapel as a way of protecting their community from something.
"There's no graveyard." He noted.
Simon had wanted to come by carriage, but James had insisted on riding up from Oxford. The crown agent looked a little overweight and unused to being in the saddle all day. He was beginning to look tired and uncomfortable.
"No one is buried here." Said Simon. "No one at all. The inhabitants of the nearby communities are traditionally buried in their local churchyards."
James was beginning to have his suspicions and those ideas were increasing the likelihood of him buying the land.
"If I buy the land." Said James. "I take it the chapel would be mine ? It would be on my property."
"Yes, though there is a tradition of allowing unfettered access to the local people."
