“What of your parishioners’ spiritual needs?” asked Anne.
Siward showed himself to be both quick-witted and compassionate with his reply. “The last six months have been a difficult time for the parish, and indeed the shire. The Welsh swept in like… not a plague of locusts as they were much more violent and dangerous than that, but you know what I mean. They stole everything they could and what they couldn’t steal they deliberately spoiled. The standing crops were burnt and the spare seedstock ruined. There are many still without the shelter of their own homes. Food is scarce and bellies empty. Fortunately, the river provides us with fish for meat and we were able to harvest some vegetables. There’s no grain for bread, or even to ferment to make ale! The dairy cattle and milking-goats were stolen, so there’s no milk and no cheese. The worst is the loss of the oxen. Without them we’ll be unable to plant more than a small amount of crops, even if we are able to procure any seed to sow. Most of the other cattle, sheep and swine were driven off into the forest and many were saved, but it’s been a struggle to keep them alive in the winter with most of the fodder gone. However, we’ve enough livestock to breed back to former levels, given time. Let us pray to God that the remainder of the winter is not harsh and that God gives a bountiful harvest in the autumn.
“The hardship of the body has affected the spirit of the people. Perhaps worst of all is the loss of loved ones. My parish lost 57 men killed and 16 women, together with some lytlings. Another 11 men and 21 women taken captive, for whom their families also grieve but without the knowledge of their fate. Lytlings are left orphaned, or with but one parent who struggles to provide for them. May Mary, mother of God, give them comfort.”
“I share your wishes for God’s future bounty and will include these lands in my prayers each day,” said Alan piously. “Bleddyn has followed one of the principals of Vegetius. ‘The main and principal point in war is to secure plenty of provisions for oneself and to destroy the enemy by famine. Famine is more terrible than the sword’,” he quoted. “I understand that the English, under Harold and before, have treated the Welshmen roughly. I’m sure that in the time since fitzOsbern has been on the border that he’s done nothing to endear himself to the Welsh. They raid us, we use heavy-handed punitive measures against them.”
“Christian kindness has been lacking on both sides of the border,” confirmed Siward.
“I’ll have twenty men-at-arms stationed here at Staunton under Sir Robert de Aumale, mainly Englishmen but led by Normans We will build a… not ‘castle’ as such, but a strong defensive position where all the people can take refuge. Generally the people don’t take this well. How do you think the people of these manors will react?”
“After last year, they will react very favorably. You could fill the castle with Moors, and as long as they were here to defend them the people of your villages wouldn’t care! Safety is the most important thing to them now,” replied Siward. “If you can protect them they wouldn’t care if you were Lucifer himself.”
“And would they train and fight?” enquired Alan.
“They fought last summer. Many died wielding pitchfork and spade supporting the local lords of Staunton and Monnington and their few retainers. If you equip them, train them and lead, yes they’ll fight,” replied Siward.
Alan cast an eye on the gathering darkness outside the small window in the vestry. “Father, I thank you for our discussion. I must away to Hereford with Lady Anne, but we’ll return on the morrow and talk further. Hopefully tomorrow a wagon should arrive from Colchester with flour and we’ll arrange for some sacks of barley to be brought to make ale- such a lack will not be acceptable to my men!”
Anne added, “Can you please arrange for me tomorrow to meet with a delegation of the womenfolk from the villages, including the wives of each of the head-cheorls?”
Siward nodded acquiescence. “Certainly! I’ll have them here and you can conduct your meeting in the church nave,” he replied.
“And can you conduct Mass for all at Terce or a little after, depending on when we can arrive? Perhaps a suitable homily from the pulpit to help us in our efforts and build a good relationship with the locals?” asked Anne.
Siward nodded his agreement and Alan and Anne took their leave after a parting benediction from the priest, mounting to ride back to Hereford with an escort of four men-at-arms.
After a ride of a little over an hour they arrived back at Hereford just as full dark was falling and the guards on the West Gate were struggling to push the heavy gates closed, narrowly avoiding having to pay a bribe to have the gates opened after nightfall.
Even though it was only a little before four in the afternoon, in the gathering darkness the street vendors were packing away their wares and the merchants were closing their shops. Alan and Anne proceeded immediately to the warehouses of the grain merchants, hoping to find them still open. After a few minutes in the first grain store Anne shook her head and led the way out, sure that the merchant was seeking to take advantage of them. However, the prices in the second store were similar- five times the price that they had paid at Gloucester. They limited their purchase to four bushels of barley. The next stop was a brewery. Given their new-found knowledge of the cost of the raw materials used in the brewing process they were not surprised to have to pay top price for a brew of quite moderate quality. Alan purchased seven hogsheads of ale, each of 54 gallons.
They arrived back at the Lion inn just as dinner was being served. Menjoire soup, herbelade pork pies, spinach tarte and mustard lentils. This wasn’t an overly rich meal, but one Alan and Anne were sure would be considerably better than whatever Robert and the others were eating at Staunton that evening.
After dining they spoke to the inn-keeper and had his pot-boy show Leof the way to the house of Moses the Jew on St Owen’s Street, to deliver a message. Leof returned not long afterwards and advised that Moses was at his counting-house and disposed to meet them.
Again with the assistance of the pot-boy they set out with an escort of two huscarles carrying rush torches to light the way in the dark. The boy needed no such assistance and within a few minutes indicated a door set in an otherwise blank wall. On knocking they were admitted. The boy, Leof and the huscarles remained in the entry foyer as Alan and Anne were ushered further inside by a young man. When they entered his chamber Moses rose from the chair at a table where he had been sitting and gestured them towards chairs placed opposite. He was relatively old at about 45, tall and thin with a lean face and prominent hawk-nose. He was dressed in traditional black robes and head-covering, and his long hair, in ringlets at the side, had streaks of grey.
His eyes took in the good quality but understated nature of the clothing of his guests as Alan peeled off his leather gloves and tucked them in his belt. “Good evening, my lord and lady. How may I be of assistance?” he asked.
“Good evening to you also,” replied Alan, pulling a small roll of parchment from his pouch. “This is from Malachi in London and I think will act as suitable introduction, although I do not read Hebrew.” He paused while Moses quickly perused the document and nodded once respectfully. Alan continued, “I am Alan of Thorrington and this is my wife, Anne of Wivenhoe. I have four manors to the west and I’ve appointed Sir Robert de Aumale as seneschal of my lands. Unfortunately, they’ve suffered some depredation and will require some financial support from me. I wish to open an account here, transferring?100 of the funds I have on deposit with Malachi. I understand that you arrange that by Note of Hand. If you wish to have the relevant documentation drawn for me to sign? Myself, Lady Anne and also Sir Robert will be able to draw on these funds as required.”
Moses half-bowed. “Certainly, my lord. If you would care to wait a moment, I’ll have wine and sweetmeats served while the documents are prepared.”
Moments after the Jew left the room a servant appeared with a flask of very good Angevin wine and a plate of candied ginger, dried fruit and nuts. Moses returned shortly afterwards and they chatted
about general matters for fifteen minutes or so until an assistant hurried in with the paperwork, which he placed on the table. Moses carefully read the two documents and then turned them for Alan and Anne to peruse. The documents were written in Latin; one was a request to Malachi to transfer the nominated amount, and the other dealt with instructions authorising withdrawals. Alan and Anne swapped documents to read and then signed each with the quill and ink provided.
Business transacted, they then left and returned to the Lion, retiring upstairs to bed nearly immediately.
Next morning they ate a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs and bread, knowing that Staunton would not be able to offer much in the way of fare for the mid-day meal, before taking to the road. On the way they passed both the wagons from Gloucester and Hereford carrying supplies.
On arrival Alan asked Robert, “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
“Probably not as good as you, but the villagers have taken us into their homes and are providing what food and accommodation they can. Nobody can ask for more than that. They can’t give you what they don’t have!” replied Robert with a shrug. “By the way, this is David, the steward. He was off in Hereford yesterday trying to barter dried fish for flour.”
Alan nodded to the stocky dark-haired man at Robert’s side. “God Hael, David! I have good news. In about an hour two wagons will be arriving. One is from Gloucester, carrying sixty bushels of rye and wheat flour and the other is from Hereford with four bushels of barley for the taverner to use to make ale, and seven hogsheads of brewed ale. I’ll arrange for further supplies from Gloucester; they can come up the river by boat to Monnington. Anne, if you’d like to get the ladies baking when the supplies arrive, we can have something of a celebration.”
“The men went out this morning and took some deer,” said Robert. “I’ll send them back out again and see if we can get some boar and more deer, maybe some wild cattle. There are quite thick patches of forest a little closer to the border. The men will appreciate having ale to drink- drinking water is too damn dangerous!”
While the hunters headed out, Alan conducted Robert, Osmund, Father Siward, Siric, David and the head-cheorls of Norton Canon, Monnington, and Bobury- by name Aella, Bearn and Defan respectively- to the selected site on a slight rise just to the west of the village. “Hlaford!” he began. “Here we’re going to build a fortified bailey. Or burgh, where the people of your villages can take shelter in time of trouble. All the villagers owe traditional burgh-bot labour for fortifications.”
They paced out an oblong 100 paces by 70, Alan marking the site to show the ditch and rampart, the towers at each corner and each side of the gate on the eastern side; then the position of the Hall, kitchen, stables, armoury and granary- Alan intended that the food supplies for the village also be secured.
“Build the stable first, followed by the Hall. Then the ditch, rampart, palisade and towers. Next, build the armoury and finally the granary, which won’t be needed until late summer. Also dig a well.” Alan showed them the sketch plans he had drawn the night before. “I want you to have all available labour engaged. You have a couple of months until the harvest is due to be sown. These plans aren’t grandiose and the facilities will be fairly basic. Half-timber construction with wooden frames and wattle and daub walls. Slate stone floors. Wooden shingles for roofing- not thatch. You have recently learned how easily thatch burns! Shingles burn, but not so easily or quickly. The workers, men and women, will be given food and drink each day. After that’s done we can repair the Moothall and the mills, and also the fish-farms at Monnington and Bobury.
“Do we need to invite men and women to come and live in these villages to replace those who were killed or taken?” continued Alan. “Yes? Very well, David I want you to have the word spread in Gloucestershire that we are looking for suitable people and that land will be granted to them in laen- but wait until we’ve sufficient food available to feed them!
“Siric, Aella, Bearn and Defan, have your blacksmiths as quickly as they can make new ploughs as replacements for those destroyed, and repair those damaged in the raid. They’ll be needed in a few weeks. When they have spare moments they can make spearheads and arrowheads. Robert, arrange for a supply of steel bars from Gloucester and also two wagons of grain each week. It’s so much cheaper there than in Hereford that it’s worth the cost of transport. I’ll provide the funds and I’ll send swords from Gloucester- that would be the best source as they have ample foundries and a suitable supply of iron, coal and charcoal from the Forest of Dean. David, do you have two or three reliable men we can send by ship to Cardiff to buy Welsh bows? Good.”
“This all promises to be a most expensive exercise,” commented Robert.
“True, but we need to rebuild what was here so we can all prosper in the future, and for them be in a position to defend it so it’s not all destroyed again next year. I expect each village to provide ten bowmen and twenty to thirty fyrdmen. Then you can be in a position to mount an effective defence. I’ve given instructions to Moses the Jew that you’re to be provided with what funds you reasonably require- but you’ll need to provide proper accounts,” replied Alan briskly. “Now, let’s see how matters are progressing in the village.”
In fact matters were progressing well. The supply wagons had arrived and been emptied. The smell of baking bread wafted over the village for the first time in months. The fish-traps at Monnington had been emptied and cleaned fish lay waiting to be baked or fried. The deer and other game caught earlier were cooking over open fires and the hunters were returning with further catches that would shortly be roasting or boiling with vegetables. The inhabitants of Norton Canon, Monnington and Bobury were drifting in to join the villagers of Staunton in partaking of their new lord’s largess. The gathering was convivial and Alan, Anne and Robert circulated and chatted with the villagers, ascertaining needs and receiving thanks for the provender they had supplied.
Two days later Alan, Anne, Synne, Osmund, Brand, Leof and an escort of four men rode east towards Essex and home.
CHAPTER TWO
Thorrington February 1068
The winter in the east was deep and bitter. Snow lay deep and icy blizzards blew from the north. In Tendring Hundred the villages were well built, well-provisioned and reasonably affluent. Farmers stayed inside during the short winter days unless the weather was fair, repairing tools and caring for the animals that were mostly housed indoors, often in the same rooms as the human inhabitants. On those days when it was possible to venture outside, the geburs performed minor repairs to fences or hunted for the small wild animals that Alan had given them leave to take- fish, hare, foxes and pigeon. No doubt also the occasional partridge, pheasant and deer were also quietly taken, although Alan was not concerned as long as this was not too blatant a breach of his rights.
Alan, Anne and their household generally stayed snug near the fire in their newly-built, luxuriously-appointed and centrally-heated New Manor Hall at Thorrington. This was a masterpiece of engineering and planning, constructed of a stone-built lower storey, half-timber upper storey with a wood-shingle roof. The floor and walls were heated by a hypocaust furnace located in an adjoining building with the warm air conducted underground and then up the walls through flues, in a manner used in the past by the Romans. The Hall fire, largely only for appearances given the effective heating of the Hall, had a metal canopy which channeled the smoke away up a metal chimney. Light came though eight glazed windows, four on each side of the Hall. Alan had reached into the past for inspiration and had spared no expense in construction. The Hall even had a bathing house located next to the kitchen, where the water in a large tub made from a tun barrel cut in half and big enough to accommodate several people, was heated by the kitchen fires. Probably the biggest innovation was the self-flushing latrines, where water piped from a nearby spring was used to wash away the waste- a common feature of Roman buildings, although now an unheard of luxury, and one which Alan had copied.
Alan conducte
d regular sword and spear training drills for his men in the covered salle d’arms next to the armoury. Owain the Welsh archer conducted training for men with the longbow on any day when the weather permitted.
As Alan had been away in December when the Hundred Court had been in session, Leofstan, the thegn from Great and Little Holland and the second largest landholder after Alan, had taken that duty. However he had bound over the more serious cases to be heard when Alan and Osmund were present, as Osmund’s understanding of the law and his ability to find the correct sections in the court text-books was the best in the Hundred. This meant that the list for the January sittings starting on Monday 21st, the Saint Day of St Agnes, was very long. Indeed, it appeared that the late autumn and early winter had been a period of considerable petty lawlessness in the Hundred, particularly in the manors held of the Bishop of London at Clacton and St Osyth by his men Normans Roger de Montivilliers, Geoffrey of Rouen and Fleming Albyn of Bruges, and the young French Angevin Gerard de Cholet who was tenant of Sheriff Robert fitzWymarc’s village of Elmstead.
Sitting jointly in the Old Hall with Leofstan and thegn Godwin of Weeley, Alan heard the usual litany of minor crimes. Assaults, petty theft, two counts of illegal possession of animals and illegal intercourse (with women, not animals). There were also serious crimes of theft, rapes and two cases of unlawful killing. Civil cases were also listed for hearing, one of selling a sick cow and two cases of encroachment on the land of another.
West Saxon law required that the person laying the complaint give oath in support of his claim. Each freeman was required to be a member of a frithbogh of ten men, who gave oath as to his truthfulness. They were also the tithing of ten men who would, if he was found guilty, share in the payment of the required bot, the fine or compensation. A freeman could compound his penalty for serious crime by paying an amount equal to his wergild, which was 200 shillings for a cheorl, cottar or sokeman. A thegn’s wergild was 1,200. Such amounts were usually totally beyond the ability to pay of the individual man, and often also of the tithing- although the prospect of being hung from the gallows-tree did tend to make men undertake their best efforts to find the required funds when needed. Many of the theows or slaves in England had become enthralled due to inability to pay the bot or compensation required for breaches of the law.
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