Satisfied with the results of the last few days Alan and Anne retired to their bedchamber for some well-deserved rest.
Alan was sitting in his office at New Hall Thorrington, looking through the figures for the current Quarter income, taxes and estate estimates provided by his clerk Osmund. It was late afternoon and his headache arose from trying to make sense of the information he had been considering and not from straining his eyes, as the room was well-lit with a large glass window near where he was sitting.
He looked up as his steward knocked on the door and entered.
Faran said, “Excuse me, my lord, but there is a messenger from Jacob the Jew who has ridden from London today. He’s very fatigued and I’ve sat him at the table in the Hall and provided him with food and drink before he falls over.
Alan nodded and instructed, “Fetch Lady Anne and we’ll see what the messenger says.”
Ten minutes later, with a jug of good Bordeaux wine and a platter of fresh bread, dried fruits and nuts and cheese on the table and his wife at his side Alan watched the messenger hurried to the table. He waved a hand at the provender on the table and the messenger was quick to place some food on a wooden plate and start to eat. Alan poured himself and his wife each a cup of wine.
“In your own time and when you are ready,” said Alan impatiently.
The messenger took the hint and stopped stuffing himself. “My lord and lady! Jacob the Jew sends news. He regretfully advises that he has been informed that your house in London has been foully attacked and your butler Aiken has been slain. He urges you to attend to resolve matters.”
A brief questioning ascertained that the London town-house had been robbed the day before and Aiken, who was in charge of that property, killed during the robbery. Aidith his daughter had contacted Anne’s business manager Jacob for assistance.
Alan looked at Anne as he gave instructions to Faran. “Arrange horses and the cart for dawn the day after tomorrow, with food and drink. Two maids for Anne. Ten mounted men-at-arms. I’ll take Osmund and Leof as usual.” Anne nodded her agreement. Alan was unhappy to be leaving at this time, with the Quarter Day of Michaelmas, when taxes and rents were to be received and paid, a little over a week away, but could see no other alternative.
They departed at first light on Tuesday the 23rd September 1068, with Alan wishing to make the 71 mile journey in one day. With 13 hours of daylight he expected to be able to achieve this despite the women, child and servants being in a light horse-drawn carriage, as the road was dry. Firstly they proceeded northwest to Colchester, via Alresford and Wivenhoe, crossed the wooden bridge over the Colne at the city, pausing to pay the pontage fee to the toll-collector as they did so, then turned south-west on the London Road, passing through Stanway and Kelvendon.
Each village had their wooden bridge over a river where again a fee had to be paid. They passed through several other small villages until they reached Chelmsford on the Rivers Can and Chelmer. They’d pushed hard and covered the thirty odd miles in time to eat an early midday meal at a tavern in Chelmsford, forgoing a visit to their nearby manor of Norton. From Chelmsford to London the condition of the road made travel slower, although the lack of recent rain meant that the roadway was firm. Until Chelmsford the road had passed through land that was moderately intensively used, with villages every few miles, each with their area of cultivated land and with an intervening section of waste before the land belonging to the next village. It was a warm and dry late autumn day and throughout the shire the harvest had been gathered. In the fields outside the villages along the way teams of oxen could be seen drawing mould-board ploughs through the soil to perform the autumn ploughing and the fruit trees were being pruned. Outside the granaries in each village men, women and children could be seen threshing and winnowing the harvested grain, with the stooks brought in from the fields standing in piles awaiting attention.
Shortly after leaving Chelmsford the road entered the immense Waltham Forest with its trees of birch, oak, beech and hornbeam. For much of the way the massive trees formed a canopy that provided a leafy roof over the dirt roadway, which was usually about five paces wide. Occasionally animals such as deer, muntjac, squirrels and hares could be seen bounding away from the approaching humans. A plethora of birds winged through the trees, those feeding near the road frequently bursting into flight as the riders approached.
Until they had entered the forest, on the more open sections of road fellow-travelers had been common, mostly on foot. These were villagers going about their business, itinerant tinkers and costermongers festooned with their wares or drawing a small hand-cart, merchants traveling with their goods in ox-drawn carts and the occasional mounted party of the more highly-born. On entering the forest this traffic had dwindled sharply and what travelers there were moved in groups of a dozen or more.
In the late afternoon when they left the confines of the forest near London the road became more crowded than ever and several of the men-at-arms rode ahead to force a swift passage. They entered the city at Aldgate and turned to the right down Cornhill. Alan always disliked this part of the journey- riding hot, tired and sweaty and having to force a passage through streets almost choked with foot-traffic and slow-moving wagons, with bottle-necks caused by stalls displaying a variety of merchandise. He hated the congestion, the stench and the filth of the city, and the frustration at moving at a snail’s-pace through the crowds. He was tempted to ride on ahead and leave the women and servants in the wagon to follow, but reined in his impatience as he knew that Anne would not appreciate being so treated.
The mound of the newly-built wooden royal castle by the river dominated the eastern part of the city to their left and had been visible for several miles as they had approached the walls. Once the travelers were on Cornhill the castle disappeared from view behind the wooden buildings crowded together along the narrow streets and alleys. Shops, factories, warehouses, merchant’s offices, craftsmen’s workshops, taverns, tenements, houses both poor and grand and churches stood shoulder to shoulder, most one or two storeys high but a few of the tenement buildings were as high as four storeys, some leaning drunkenly out over the street. There were occasional patches of clear land, mainly where wooden buildings had been destroyed by fire and the ruins demolished.
Alan always felt almost claustrophobic in the narrow streets, hemmed in by a mass of humanity and hardly able to see the sky. Whether he found the noise or the smells of the city more offensive was a moot point. There was a constant hubbub of noise. Costermongers, stall-holders and touts shouted their wares or services. Beggars stood or sat at busy corners displaying sores and missing or deformed limbs and crying for alms. Gangs of street urchins called and shouted as they ran through the alleys and side-streets. The bellow of oxen; braying of donkeys; the whinnying of horses pulling wagons; the creak and rattle of cartwheels; the clang of church bells from a myriad of churches, many ringing in isolation as their priests and congregations chose to interpret time slightly differently to that announced by the bells of St Paul’s Cathedral when they announced the Vespers service.
Whilst the noise was almost constant, the smells varied. Always present was the smell of unwashed bodies, rotting household rubbish thrown onto the street and human and animal excrement. On passing premises occupied by fullers, tanners or dyers the particular stenches of their occupations became dominant, principally the smell of urine or animal faeces. At the Chepe markets were the smells of rotting fish and vegetables, blood and offal. The road passed north of the square where St Paul’s Cathedral stood, but the spires of the church and the looming bulk of Montfichet Tower and Baynard’s Castle could be glimpsed through gaps in the buildings. Having passed through the city they eventually exited the walls at Newgate, crossed the wooden bridge over the Holebourn stream and a few minutes later were at their London house in Holebourn.
The party dismounted in the yard and stood stretching tired and aching limbs. The stable-boy Tiw hurried out. From his red eyes Alan could tell th
at the young lad had obviously been crying, but he appeared beside himself at the opportunity to care for the horses of the traveling party. A slightly-built woman of medium height with long black hair, well dressed in an ankle-length gown of brown wool with an embroidered hem, stepped out of the doorway and gave a grave nod of welcome. This was Jemima, Jacob’s wife, who Alan and Anne had met only twice previously. Next to her stood a middle-aged man, by his dress also Jewish. Two burly Englishman also appeared, and then the cook Wilda peered through the doorway.
“Good evening,” said Jemima in her quiet voice. “Welcome to your home. I’ll send somebody to fetch Jacob. This is Tomer, my brother-in-law. You two men, help Tiw with the horses.”
Once inside they saw the maid Aidith, who gave a quick curtsey and disappeared into the Buttery to fetch jugs of ale and food for the weary travelers.
The ten men-at-arms, led by Edric, sat at one table in the Hall, while Alan, Anne and Osmund sat at another and Alan gestured for Jemima and Tomer to be seated. The servants who had traveled from Essex, including Bisgu the wet-nurse who was holding baby Juliana, sat at a third table.
Without being asked Jemima said, “Three days ago, in the evening after dark, a group of thugs forced their way into the house. Aitkin and Aidith were inside. Wilda was in the town and Tiw was sleeping in the stables. They ransacked the house for valuables. Aitkin gave them what money you had left in his care, but they were unsatisfied. They raped Aidith, and when he tried to prevent that Aitkin was stabbed to death. Although she was beside herself with grief, Aidith sent Tiw to Newgate to raise the alarm with the guards and to tell Jacob about what had happened. With Aitkin dead she couldn’t think who else to tell. Jacob asked me to come and care for Aidith and arranged with Gareth for him to lend some men to provide security. Aidith, Wilda and myself tidied up the mess- there was quite a lot of breakage. It would appear that the thieves took about thirty shillings and some gold and silver items. They made quite a mess in the buttery, as they smashed the barrels of what wine and ale they couldn’t carry off and the room was awash.”
“Thank you for your assistance,” said Anne with genuine appreciation that the family of her Jewish business manager would put themselves out in such a way to be of assistance.
Just then a tall thin balding man with a ferret-face and wearing nondescript clothing slipped into the room. It was Gareth, Anne’s spy. Presumably he was trying to show his competence by arriving just after they had and without being summoned.
“Good,” said Anne. “You’ve saved me the trouble of sending for you. What happened?”
“A group of thugs from Chepeside appears to have singled out your house for some reason. Why I can’t say, as there be more worthwhile targets both inside and outside the city walls. I’ve identified who they are. Do you want to question them?” asked the spy in his deep gravelly voice.
“No,” replied Alan. “You ask them whether anybody put them up to this, and then dispose of them all. Make a point that my property and my people are to be left alone. That’ll be cheaper than providing guards here all the time.”
Gareth nodded his understanding of the instruction and rose to leave. “Thank you for your assistance,” said Anne.
“No problem, m’lady. It’ll be on this month’s bill I send to Jacob. I’ll get to work then! I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
Shortly afterwards Wilda the cook emerged from the kitchen and whispered in the ears of the maids Synne and Esme. They left with some reluctance to assist with serving, as they were Anne’s personal maids and not serving-wenches. The hurriedly prepared meal of herbed mutton and vegetable stew with rye-bread was tasty, washed down with the ale that Jemima had bought from a local tavern and wine that Jacob had sent from the business warehouse. Afterwards, with a platter of dried fruit, cheeses and nuts on the table, Anne called in Wilda and spoke to her regarding who she could recommend as a new butler to run the household. After some thought she made several suggestions, which Osmund noted down for further action. Then, weary to the bone, Alan and Anne retired to the bedchamber upstairs.
Next morning Chancellor Regenbald proved that Gareth wasn’t the only person with a good spy network, as a message arrived quite early with an invitation for Alan to lunch with the Englishman at his chambers in Westminster.
The proximity of Westminster Palace was one of the reasons that Alan and Anne had chosen to buy a house outside the city walls and to the west of the city. Rather than bothering to undertake the tack-work required to ride the short distance, Alan chose to walk with two men-at-arms in company.
He was ushered into the Chancellor’s chambers, where Regenbald was sitting on a cushioned chair with his left leg raised and supported by a padded stool. With him was another man, elderly and plump with a hawk-like nose and wearing clerical garb. Regenbald waved Alan to a seat, as he carefully placed a cup of wine on the small table next to him. “Sorry not to greet you properly. Gout!” he said indicating his foot. “Congratulations on your martial efforts this year. William fitzOsbern was impressed- and with his experience and ability he’s not a man who is easily impressed. Firstly, let me introduce Herfast, who is replacing me as Chancellor in a few months. He’s a Norman monk, but not a bad fellow for all that! I invited him over to meet you and have the chance to have an informal chat with you as a member of the king’s Curia and a man with some interesting ideas and ideals, We can go into that shortly. I hear that you have had some problems with your town-house?”
“Yes, but hopefully those will be resolved today,” replied Alan.
Herfast nodded and said, “Yes, Master Gareth is a very capable man and I’m sure that you won’t have any further problems- at least from that gang. Do you think it was motivated by your political foes?”
Alan stroked his small neat beard thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so. My relations with Bishop William, Earl Ralph and Engelric have improved and we seem to have reached a mutual ‘live and let live’ position without harassing each other. If it was politically motivated it would have been directed against me personally. I think it was just one of those things that happen, although I’m in a position to make sure it doesn’t happen twice!”
With a nod of understanding Herfast continued, “You’re probably right. I just wanted to express my sympathy and have a bit of a chat.”
“I hear that it’s been a busy summer for the king and fitzOsbern, but living out in the wilds we haven’t necessarily heard all that has been happening,” observed Alan.
“That’s true,” replied Herfast. “You know that Harold’s bastard sons raided Bristol and Somerset and were driven off back to Ireland, being opposed mainly by the local English fyrd. The Scots have been raiding Mercia and Northumbria in force. The Western Marches have seen raids by the Welsh and Eadric cild- not as bad as last year but still both destructive and distracting. The Northumbrians and Mercians continue to be a problem. Groups of armed men, who they are calling the ‘Wildmen’ or ‘Greenmen’, raid a few manors or villages and kill a few loyal men before disappearing back into the hills or forests when Earl William approaches. Hit and run tactics.
“So all in all, things are a mess at the moment and King William is running about like a blue-arsed fly. That’ll be very frustrating for him as he’s a man who likes to be in control of events, not to be reacting to them. The deteriorating situation in Maine is potentially very damaging, particularly when combined with the activities of Fulk in Anjou. The king is rushing around putting out brush-fires everywhere.
In a change of topic Alan asked Herfast, “You know, one thing that has had me puzzled for years is why Harold fought the way he did at Hastings. Do you know? Was it because of the pope’s anathema and threat of excommunication of any who opposed William? He could have waited another week and raised an extra 10,000 men from the shires that were further away and had Morcar and Edwin provide men from the north. Then, when he did set up at Hastings, it was like his men had taken root. No movement and no maneuver at all.”
> Regenbald gave a laugh of genuine amusement. “To answer the first part of the question, you obviously didn’t know Harold and clearly still don’t understand the English- both those of the south and of the north. Neither he nor his men would have cared much about Pope Alexander deciding to favour William without his even hearing Harold’s side of the argument. That was an interesting piece of political skullduggery in itself that may yet come back to haunt William, which I’ll go into in a minute. Harold beat the Norwegians at Stamford Bridge because he moved quickly and took them by surprise, even though they outnumbered him. Again, he didn’t wait to muster his full strength nor did he wait for Morcar and Edwin to bring those of their men who had survived the battle at Fulford Gate. He gathered what men he could on the ride to the north, plus his own huscarles of course. He just went at them like a bull at a gate, killed Harald Hardrada and his own brother Tostig and the forces they had with them that morning, and then beat the Norwegians who came up from the ships- effectively he had two battles that day. Then Harold and his men were celebrating their victory when news of William’s landing arrived.
“He and his remaining thegns and huscarles took horse south to London and left the infantry to straggle down as best they could. I was in London and helped to send out the calls to the thegns and fyrd of the south to rally. It was then, in London, that we heard about the anathema from that French monk that William used as a messenger. It was quite interesting and humorous, the messages and taunts that Harold and William sent back and forth over those few days. They were like two young boys arguing over a toy, with insults and threats. Gyrth was more concerned about the pope than Harold was, and offered to lead the army to avoid the risk that his brother would be excommunicated. Harold wasn’t too bothered as he knew that whoever won the battle would have the last say with the pope. Remember that Archbishop Stigand has been under anathema and excommunicated since 1052, by five successive popes, and that didn’t stop even the pious King Edward keeping him in the position as the most senior prelate in the country- or King William for that matter. It just meant that, to be safe, Harold had Ealdred of York place the crown on his head at his coronation, rather than Stigand- as did William.
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