Features

DS Senanayake, the all time great: “If he did not live, Ceylon would have been very different”

Published

3 years ago

2024/02/4

Hulugalle with the Prime Minister at a Press Conference during the Commonwealth Foreign Ministers Conference in 1951. Also in the picture is Sir Kanthiah Vaithianathan, E.C.B. Wijeyesinghe and a senior Daily News journalist Austin de Silva.

(Excerpted from Selected Journalism by HAJ Hulugalle)

One morning in March 1952, Don Stephen Senanayake, Ceylon’s first Prime Minister, fell off the horse he was riding on the Galle Face Green in Colombo and died 33 hours later. He was in his 68th year and was probably the victim of a stroke which made him lose control of the horse. He was found laid out on the turf with his face downwards and bleeding from his nose. The nation mourned the man who had led it to independence and had made the parched lands of the Island bloom.

Those who knew Mr. Senanayake or only saw him, will recall his burly figure, infectious smile and unfailing kindness. A generation born since his death has now reached adult status. Only a few of his age group are still around. Forty eight years have elapsed since he entered upon a political career as the elected Member for Negombo in the Legislative Council. A fresh look at his life and work, 21 years after his death (when this article was written) can shed useful light on many of the problems with which the country is beset today.

The years in which Mr. Senanayake was the acknowledged national leader are important not only for his achievements in gaining independence after centuries of Colonial rule and in introducing a new dimension to agricultural development. They mark a shift in values affecting the structure of our society. Under the impact of adult franchise and free education, which came when he was Prime Minister, the outlook and expectations of the common people changed significantly and irretrievably.

He may not have spelt all this out in his own thinking. He was born in the Victorian age when, in the Colonies at any rate, the people’s wishes counted for little. Although he lived in the town, Mr. Senanayake’s heart was in the country. Political reform had no meaning for him other than as a means of providing the rural folk of the country with a new and more abundant life. He had his misgivings about foisting an inferior type of free education that took no account of the needs and conditions of the country. Nevertheless, the effect of the two changes referred to is being now felt at every level of the social and political life of the people of Ceylon.

Mr. Senanayake took up politics seriously after the riots of 1915 when several Buddhist leaders, like himself and his two brothers who were in no way connected with the disturbances, were incarcerated. The conviction was then forced on him that, until the Ceylonese became fully responsible for the Government, there was no way of preventing such abuses of power and of solving the political and economic problems of the country.

In the earlier stages of the campaign for freedom he was more a camp-follower than a pace-setter. But after he became a Member of the Legislative Council in 1924, he knew what he wanted for Ceylon and was determined to get it. After he succeeded Sir Baron Jayatilaka as Leader of the State Council, in the early stages of the last war, he had the reins in his hands. Six years of agitation and negotiation produced the desired result, namely, political independence for Sri Lanka as a member of the Commonwealth.

He grasped firmly the substance of independence, leaving it to those who came after him to do better if they could. The smug comment is sometimes heard that Ceylon gained her independence too easily. Other countries in the Colonial Empire did not get it without bloodshed, civil war and non-co-operation. Mr. Senanayake’s tactics ruled out such measures. His own warm personality helped, and confidence begat confidence. On appropriate occasions he could act on the principle that “the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.”

Summing up Mr. Senanayake’s achievement, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s first Prime Minister, said: “We of this generation, wherever we may live, have passed through this great period of transition and have seen the face of Asia change in this process. The change continues. Leading personalities in different countries become the symbols of this period of transition and thus become in some ways agents of historic destiny. In Ceylon, Don Stephen Senanayake was such a personality, who impressed himself not only in Ceylon, but on a wider sphere. He should be remembered as a person who helped about the transition to freedom and then to consolidate the freedom that had come.”

After the dusty and sometimes bitter conflicts over communal representation in the legislature had ended, Mr. Senanayake led a united people to the goal of independence. He was able to persuade the State Council, with the exception of two members who represented Indian interests and a Sinhalese ‘independent’, to accept the Soulbury Constitution which, as Sir Ivor Jennings has pointed out, was largely his Constitution.

“The belief that the Soulbury Commission produced the Constitution,” wrote Sir Ivor, “is due partly to the fact that people doubted whether Mr. Senanayake had the capacity to produce a Constitution. After all he had never passed the Matriculation. This is, however, seriously to underrate Mr. Senanayake’s intellectual capacity. Naturally he relied heavily on his advisers; any Minister who does not is bound to fail. What is more, he left insignificant detail to his advisers. Nevertheless, he had an excellent grasp of fundamental principles, and he quickly seized the essence of any problem that might become controversial.

“If after explanation he began, “As a matter of fact” or “Actually,” his advisers at once knew that something was wrong. If they were unable to convince him, they were told in the nicest possible way that they had better get away and think again. Mr. Senanayake could not have foreseen the full impact of the forces he helped to release. Those who advised him, and he himself, had an almost mystical faith in the British parliamentary system which, as we know, functions best with a homogeneous population.

“He envisaged a united people entering upon a heritage that had eluded them too long. Though he succeeded in winning over the leaders of the minorities to his way of thinking, he did not perhaps pay sufficient attention to the fears and emotions of those they represented, which fact in due course gave momentum to the formation of the Federal Party by a section of the Ceylon Tamils.

“He believed that, given a fair field and the rules of the game, the industry and inherent ability of the Tamils and other minorities would see them through in any competition. He was careful to do nothing to widen the gaps or emphasize the differences, as the following incidents demonstrate. One day a leading Buddhist layman and two influential prelates called on him. He welcomed them with his usual courtesy and listened patiently to what they had to say to him. They asked that Sinhalese should at once be made the country’s official language and Buddhism the State religion.

“He thanked them and with good grace told them that he could not consider their request until the more urgent problem of food, shelter and employment had been resolved. On another occasion a deputation of backbenchers of his party represented to him that the new industries like cement, chemicals and paper were located in the Northern and Eastern Provinces in which the Sinhalese were in a small minority. He replied that it was his responsibility to attend to the needs of all sections of the community and a united nation could be built up only by the majority being generous to the minorities.

“He was indeed the friend of all communities. Mr. S. J. V. Chelvanayagam, the leader of the Federal Party, in a tribute to Mr. Senanayake, said that “it was the personal qualities of the man that helped him to achieve so much success in the very high office that he filled in the affairs of this country. Differences of opinion did not in any way diminish my respect or regard for Mr. Senanayake. I admired the love he had for his people. He had a shining faith in their future greatness and, according to his lights, he worked for its achievement untiringly and consistently. Many a time I had wished that in the ranks to which I belonged there were to be found one like Mr. Senanayake, so consistently loyal and so full of hope and ultimate success.”

It would take a longer article than this to do justice to Mr. Senanayake’s achievements in agricultural development. He was Minister of Agriculture for the 14 years of the two State Councils. During those years he transformed the pattern of peasant agriculture. He built or restored large and small tanks, which feed several 100,000 acres, set up colonization schemes, established new towns, started research stations, promoted rural credit and co-operative marketing, encouraged extension work and sent trained men into the field to help the peasant farmer to improve his crops by the adoption of scientific methods.

As one of his colleagues in this work, Dr. R. L. Brohier has written, “he saw the necessity for improving the quality of crops, for growing a wide range of varieties to ensure balanced dietary intake, and the need for inculcating animal husbandry. He also visualized that there must be Government financial assistance for the colonist to set himself up, technical guidance and a system of easy and orderly marketing.”

Mr. Senanayake was justly proud of the progress made in agricultural development during the years when he bore the main responsibility for its direction and accomplishment. But he saw many years of work ahead. He did not talk about his achievements but rather loved to show what had been done and how it was done. On one occasion when he was needled by a Marxist critic in Parliament for spending too much on his irrigation schemes, he was compelled to say, more in sorrow than in anger, “During the

period of my Ministry, that is 14 years, I have had tanks built and natural sources tapped which will make it possible with a little development to have at least another million acres to cultivate when we have the manpower.”

He was of course a convinced anti-Marxist and did not agree that human nature could be changed by changing institutions. When in December 1947, Dr. Colvin R. de Silva, had lectured him in Parliament on how the country’s agriculture should be developed, Mr. Senanayake, who had spent more years as a practical agriculturist than the life span of his critic, rejoined:

“My good friend the Member for Wellawatte-Galkissa, for whom I have the greatest admiration, is so much above his associates in intellect and all those things, that he is under the impression that there is nothing in this world that he does not know. I have a great admiration for his ability, but I wish to tell him that he does not know everything in this world. There are more things in heaven and earth than enter into his philosophy. He spoke of agriculture. That reminded me of a story that I had heard sometime ago.”

Mr. Senanayake then proceeded to relate the story. There was a farmer in the village who was suddenly afflicted by a gripe. Suffering agonies he shouted to his young son to run to the doctor and get him some medicine. The boy went to a house which had a board with the name of “Dr. So and So” on it. Meeting the doctor, the boy told him about his father’s illness and the suffering he was

undergoing. The doctor replied, “Well, I am only a veterinary surgeon, I would give a horse a pound of Epsom Salts in a bucket of water. I suggest that you give your father half that and I think it would settle his stomach ache. The next day the veterinary surgeon saw the youth and asked him how his father was faring. The boy replied, “Oh, you are a wonderful doctor. You know, even after his death he purged three times.”

“So, I would tell my veterinary friend,” added Mr. Senanayake, “that of human beings and human problems, he knows nothing. He may be a great man and a well-read person who knows a lot about Russia. But, although I do not compare myself with him, I can assure him that I know more about soil and cultivation than he knows and will ever know.”

He was a formidable debater, relying more on his experience of human nature and a native shrewdness than on dialectical prowess. The best tribute to him in this capacity was paid by Dr. N. M. Perera whose specialty is parliamentary institutions. “In a sense,” said Dr. Perera, “he filled the Council by his very presence. I have never known a man more devoted to his duty or more consistent in his attendance. He followed every debate closely. He never missed a good point, however humble the quarter from which it emanated. This was a remarkable performance for one so overburdened with the innumerable cares of office. His astuteness and shrewdness as a parliamentarian – I use the words in no

disrespectful sense – were almost uncanny.

“When one recollects his early life, this is indeed a remarkable achievement. He was quick to sense and grasp a situation while others were hesitant and groping. Others may have been more learned, but he was more knowledgeable. As a debater he was the equal of the best in the land. He may not have indulged in sonorous language, his phraseology may not have been elegant, his diction may have been imperfect, but his quick-wittedness was remarkable. Quick to pounce upon his opponent’s weak points, he knew the art of getting at the heart of a debate…. He had a remarkable capacity to understand all the things that went on in his Government. There was no Department that he did not know intimately.”

Mr. Senanayake had no difficulty in meeting people, whatever their station in life, at a human level. No townsman or villager, who went to him with a personal problem was turned away from the little downstairs room at Temple Trees where he relaxed. If the visitor had been waiting for him, he would ask Carolis, his faithful man servant and companion, to fetch him a drink, usually of orange juice, white he, himself went in to divest himself of his office clothes. The Prime Minister would sometimes cool himself by pouring water on his head, the noise of which could be heard, and he would then emerge dressed in a sarong and a singlet.

Sir John Kotalawala made a just comment when he said, “No man was too small for his attention if he had the time, and somehow he would find the time. No man who went to him can ever forget the sincerity with which he promised to look into his grievance.” When Mr. Senanayake died, an

Indian labourer on a tea estate went to his European master and said, “Aiyo, periyah manushan, mickam nalla manushan” – “Oh, he was a great man and a good man.”

He never missed the opportunity to get closer to the people – speaking to them about their crops, their children and their livestock – when he visited the colonization and village expansion schemes, which he frequently did. Relaxing in a resthouse in the evening he would chat with and inspire the young officials who accompanied him. There was never any lack of communication between him and those who worked with him and those for whose benefit they both worked.

In what I have written above, I have spoken of Mr. Senanayake as the man who led his country to freedom in what was then described by a London newspaper as “the most untroubled country in Asia,” as the pioneer of land development, builder of tanks, as parliamentarian and administrator. What impact did he make on the world outside Ceylon? On receiving the news of his death, Mr. Winston Churchill said, “The Commonwealth is the poorer without him and the wise counsel he always gave.” Mr. Attlee, the Labour Prime Minister, during whose term of office Ceylon became an independent nation said, “He was a man of great personal charm. Ceylon was extremely lucky to have had such a man to inaugurate a new era of full equality in the Commonwealth.” Sir Robert Menzies, the Prime Minister of Australia said, “D. S. Senanayake was a man of enormous breadth of vision and of singular personal attraction. He pursued his objectives – and he had a wonderful capacity for defining them precisely – with sincerity and forcefulness, yet always with a due regard for the rights and feelings of others.”

Mr. Senanayake had indeed won respect and admiration not only among his own people but far beyond these shores and he held an honoured place among the leaders of the nations. “History,” wrote Lord Soulbury, “is the impact of the individual man of mark upon his contemporaries. In short, it is the great men who make history: D. S. Senanayake was a great man and if he had not lived Ceylon would have been very different.’

(From D.S. Senanayake’s Place in the History of His Country, 1972)

All News Advertisement

Related Topics:Ceylon DS Senanayake HAJ Hulugalle Legislative Council

Up Next

Ramzi Rahaman – The master craftsman

Don't Miss

EDUCATION IN THE PLANTATION SECTOR

Click to comment

Features

Combining local resources,traditional knowledge and science to build a food-secure Sri Lanka

Published

1 day ago

2026/10/16

Thilina Walpola

World Food Day 2026: Innovating today for a better food future

by Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

What will be on the Sri Lankan dinner table ten years from now? Will our children be able to get nutritious food at a price their families can afford? Will farmers be able to grow enough despite changing weather and rising costs? And how much of the food we produce will actually reach the consumer, instead of being lost or wasted along the way?

These questions can’t wait. A farmer faces unpredictable weather. A family faces rising food costs. Fruit goes unsold after a good harvest. Some children do not get enough nutrition. The future of food is tied to the future of Sri Lanka itself.

World Food Day 2026 is a chance to look beyond the immediate problems and ask whether we can build a food system that feeds our people well, gives farmers better opportunities, protects the environment and makes better use of what we already have. The answer can be yes, but we will have to think differently.

We are not starting from zero. Sri Lanka has diverse crops, fisheries, traditional food knowledge, indigenous varieties, research institutions, universities and a young generation able to create new solutions. What we need is to bring these together and act. Producing more will not secure our food future on its own. It will depend on how intelligently we produce, process, preserve, distribute and consume food.

Making more of what we already have

Innovation does not always mean inventing something new. Often it means finding better uses for the resources we have.

Sri Lanka grows traditional rice varieties, kurakkan, green gram, cowpea, jackfruit, breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato, coconut and palmyrah. All of them have great potential for modern, nutritious, value-added foods. Jackfruit and breadfruit can be made into flour and other convenient products. Traditional rice varieties can go into new foods that suit changing consumer needs. Palmyrah, with its strong cultural heritage, can create new income through better processing, packaging, quality assurance and market development.

The aim is to connect our traditional food knowledge with modern consumer needs and technology, while keeping our food heritage.

Stop wasting the food we produce

Reducing food loss and waste should be a major priority. Seasonal fruits such as mango, banana, papaya and pineapple can be lost in large quantities when production exceeds demand or when storage, transport and processing facilities are inadequate. With suitable technology, these fruits can become dried products, pulps, powders, beverages and other shelf-stable foods.

Agricultural and fisheries by-products are resources too. They could be turned into food ingredients, animal feed, bio-based products and other useful materials, which would move us toward a more circular food economy.

Technology alone is not enough. We need stronger local processing facilities, cold storage, efficient transport, collection centres and market information systems, especially close to where food is produced. Cutting food loss raises the value of what our farmers and fishers already produce.

Nutrition and food safety come first

Food security means more than having enough food. People also need food that is safe and nutritious.

Sri Lanka can develop affordable, nutritious foods from local pulses, grains, vegetables, fruits and fish. Children and other vulnerable groups should get particular attention. Schoolchildren in particular deserve a focus: safe, nutritious, locally sourced products for school feeding programs would support child nutrition, local farmers and domestic food industries at the same time.

Food safety must stay at the centre of food innovation. Good hygiene, quality control, laboratory testing, traceability and appropriate food safety systems are what make new products safe as well as attractive and nutritious.

A food system that can cope with climate change

Climate change is already affecting agricultural production, water availability, crop yields and food prices. We need food systems that can handle changing conditions. That means climate-resilient crops, efficient water use, soil and water conservation, better storage and resource-efficient food processing.

Traditional knowledge matters here. Generations of Sri Lankan farmers have developed practices suited to local climates and ecosystems. Combining that experience with modern science can give us solutions that fit local conditions and are sustainable. Technology alone will not build the future of food. Science, experience and local knowledge together can.

Give young people a bigger role

Sri Lanka’s universities have an important part to play in shaping our food future. Young people should be encouraged to identify real problems in the food system and work on practical solutions in areas such as food waste, sustainable packaging, nutrition, food safety, modernising traditional foods and digital technologies.

A good research project should not always end as a research paper. Where appropriate, research should be supported to move on to products, technologies, enterprises and community solutions. That needs stronger partnerships between universities and industry, along with mentoring, research funding, business support and market connections. If young researchers and entrepreneurs can turn their ideas into viable food innovations, both consumers and producers will benefit.

A pathway designed for Sri Lanka

We do not need to copy food-system models from other countries. We can build a pathway that suits our own resources, culture and needs. It would bring together local resources, traditional knowledge, scientific research, appropriate technology and entrepreneurship, with farmers, fishers, universities, research institutions, food industries, entrepreneurs and policymakers working side by side.

The goal goes beyond selling raw materials. We need to create more value, reduce waste, improve nutrition, generate jobs and strengthen rural livelihoods. This matters especially for small and medium-scale food enterprises, which can drive local economic development when they get the right technical, financial and market support.

The choices we make today

The food future will not create itself. It will be shaped by what we grow, what we research, what we process, what we consume and what we choose not to waste.

So, the question for World Food Day 2026 is this: what can we do today so that every Sri Lankan has safe, nutritious, affordable and sustainable food tomorrow?

The answers are already around us, in our farms, fisheries, food businesses, universities, laboratories and communities. We have the resources, the traditional knowledge, the scientific expertise and talented young people. What we need now is to connect them and act.

A better food future begins with the choices we make today.

Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

Senior Lecturer, Department of Biosystems Technology, Faculty of Technology, University of Ruhuna

Features

20th Anniversary of Digampathana blast – the day Sri Lanka Navy cried

Published

1 day ago

2026/10/16

Thilina Walpola

Aftermath of the terror attack

By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan

The Digampathana suicide truck attack on 16th October 2006 remains the deadliest single strike in Sri Lanka Navy history, leaving scars that time cannot erase.

It was a seemingly ordinary Monday morning on 16 October 2006, but the calm of that day would soon be shattered in a way none of us could have imagined. As the Commandant of the Naval and Maritime Academy and Flag Officer Commanding Naval Fleet at Trincomalee, I was aware that a number of my cadets were travelling that morning, part of a convoy of fifteen buses carrying naval personnel from Trincomalee, Colombo, and other bases, heading toward Dambulla to rendezvous with another group. The convoy also included trucks and escort vehicles, a routine movement planned and coordinated with the army to ensure the roads were clear. The morning started quietly. Some personnel greeted friends, handed over their weapons, or strolled to a nearby tea shop. It all seemed so ordinary—too ordinary for what would come next.

Sri Lanka Navy sunk LTTE Ships carrying arms, ammunition and warlike materials thousand miles away from Sri Lanka in Indian Ocean in September and October 2007.

By late morning, both convoys had reached the small ground at Digampathana, near the Sigiriya junction, and personnel mingled briefly, unaware that a carefully orchestrated act of terror was waiting. Then, suddenly, an empty half-truck veered directly into the convoy. It exploded with a ferocity I can still recall as if it were yesterday. Nuts, bolts, and high explosives tore through the air. Pandemonium erupted instantly. I later learned that 107 of our naval personnel were killed on the spot and another 153 critically injured. The scene was indescribable—bodies scattered, vehicles mangled, personal effects strewn across the ground. I remember later hearing that the head of the suicide bomber was recovered more than 100 meters away from the blast, a grim testament to the sheer force of the explosion.

I was in my office at the Naval and Maritime Academy when my mobile phone rang. A young midshipman from the 21st intake called, his voice trembling: “Sir, there was a huge explosion at the convoy point! Many are dead … my batch mate Wijesundara is among them.” I immediately jumped into my jeep with my escort Chief Petty Officer and driver and rushed to Digampathana, relying on every ounce of my driving skill to reach the scene. The journey, which usually took little more than an hour, felt endless that day, each passing mile weighed down by dread.

When I arrived, I was confronted with a sight that no training can prepare you for. The injured were being rushed to Dambulla Hospital, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, improvising in ways that saved lives despite the overwhelming chaos. I went back to the site after visiting the hospital. The remains of our naval personnel were scattered across the ground, and someone had begun collecting weapons and protective gear. I immediately contacted Surgeon Rear Admiral Nico Jayasekara and received his instructions: collect all body parts in separate bags and transport them to the Trincomalee Naval Hospital mortuary. This gruesome work had to be done with care and dignity, and it filled the icebox in my vehicle. Through DNA testing initiated by Rear Admiral Nico, we were able to identify every naval personnel lost that day, bringing some closure to grieving families.

The Navy Commander at the time, Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda, was devastated. I had worked closely with him and knew how deeply he cared for his men. He ensured that the fallen were honoured with full ceremonial naval funerals at Welisara Naval Base, attended by families and comrades. Sixty-seven funerals were conducted in a single day—a number that still haunts me.

The Digampathana attack remains the largest single loss of naval life in our history. It was a day of sorrow, but also a day that reinforced our resolve. The tragedy galvanized the Navy to target the LTTE Sea Tiger wing with renewed determination and reshaped our maritime operations forever. Every time I think of that day, I remember not just the lives lost, but the courage, professionalism, and dedication of those who survived, those who treated the injured, and those who ensured the fallen were honored properly. May the souls of our naval hero’s rest in peace, their sacrifice guiding us and inspiring generations of naval personnel to come.

Features

‘Murder at Whitby Abbey’

Published

1 day ago

2026/10/16

Thilina Walpola

Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 24

I was intrigued by the title of a book I found in a book drop at the condominium of a friend, Murder at Whitby Abbey, and I brought it home with me though I will not be able to return it in the near future. It was described on the cover page as ‘a standout in the crowded medieval mystery field’, though I fear I do not know of other books in this field, apart from the Cadfael series, which I have dealt with earlier.

The book, by Cassandra Clark, is set during the reign of Richard II and has as a backdrop his precarious position, which led to his being replaced, and murdered, by his cousin Henry, who reigned as Henry IV. It is a gloomy book, the action taking place in the twelve days of Christmas leading up to the Epiphany. And the gloom is pervasive, even though this is supposed to be a time of festivity, with mummers performing, and many of those in the guest house where the heroine stays going to town to enjoy themselves, with much drinking and much music, which also fills the guesthouse.

The heroine Hildegarde is a nun, sent to try to acquire a relic being sold by Whitby Abbey, though this was also a penance set by the Abbot of the monastery that governed her abbess because she had had sex with a man. Soon after she and her companions reach the Abbey set high on a cliff, she finds that there are other bidders, and soon suspects that the hierarchy, not perhaps the Abbot who seems a weakling, but his rapacious bursar, is determined to make money, and not above creating false relics to sell to several aspirants.

After Hildegarde and her Cistercian companions – Whitby is a Benedictine Foundation – two monks, Gregory and Egbert, and a young priest Mark, reach the abbey, they find that Aelwyn, a monk they had met on their way to the guesthouse had died. This was in the apple store, and they realize, when they find the surplices of novices stuffed into the air vents, that he had been left to suffocate in the overwhelming scent of apples.

Clark

The Cistercians are asked to look into the death, perhaps because they are likely to get no cooperation from the Abbey folk, but perhaps because those in charge are keen to know what happened. And the infirmarer, an old monk, suggests Hildegarde talk to a man called Edred who worked for the bursar, and had been a friend of Aelwyn’s. But Edred too is killed, before he can keep an appointment he had made with Hildegarde, drowned in a pool near the farmhouse of the Abbey.

Meanwhile tensions arise between the fisherfolk and the abbey for the bursar wants to charge them for using the beach that technically belongs to the abbey to dry their fish and their nets. This leads to physical battles, when the guards used by the abbey, under the command it seems of the bursar whose determination to make money is not resisted by the abbot and the prior, try to storm the area where the fishermen live.

Hildegard finds out more about what had happened through two youngsters, one of whom Torold is the son of Aelwyn by a woman who worked as a prostitute for a cartel, and with whom Mark fell in love. The other works on the farm and had seen Edred meet someone near the pool, after which that someone left the place by himself. And the boy had also found in the pool a sort of dagger with the seal of the abbey.

He and his dog, and Torold who follows her, rescue Hildegarde from a man at arms who has waylaid her and tries to rape her earlier. Escaping into the abbey she was nearly been raped then by the bursar, but she managed to escape, in the process setting fire to him and the muniments room, which led, when he was rescued, to the discovery of a box with the money he said had been stolen, blame being cast on both Aelwyn and Edred.

Matters come to a head when the fisherfolk try to storm the abbey, being resisted by the men at arms stationed on the towers. But then Hildegarde realizes that behind the murders was the bursar’s clerk, whom she pursued to the cathedral. There is great drama then as she escapes from him when he tries to kill her, and then from the man at arms who had tried to both rape and kill her, but they both fall from the scaffolding she had climbed, the latter coming from a tower where he had been stationed.

Both of them think they run the rapacity of the abbey, the latter claiming to work for the nobles opposed to Richard, who is presented throughout the book as devoted to his subjects, not to power or money. But though the villains die, the bursar continues, having got over the hysteria the fire had caused and his acknowledgment then of guilt – and though the abbot and the prior seem less vicious, whether they will be able to assert themselves is questionable.

Before the climax, when the others in the guesthouse were leaving, Hildegarde found that two of them were in possession of the relic, for which they seem to have paid well. Hildegarde herself had made a derisory offer, but before she leaves the abbot gives her the relic, perhaps in gratitude for what she and her fellow Cistercians had discovered, the abbey having made as much money as it needed and more from the gullible other buyers.

Mark’s inamorata is saved from the stews because she moves in with Edred’s widow whom the bursar had thrown out of the rooms he occupied when her husband was found dead. Hildegarde had paid for lodgings, in a house run by the man who ran the brothels, but he had a kindly side and was going to finance them to make nets for the fishermen.

So, the Cistercians set off for their home as swiftly as they can to get there on the day of the Epiphany, having stopped en route to pray for King Richard whose birthday it was.