“Have no doubt that King William will return from Normandy within days, if he has not landed already. He will go north like an Act of God. He is the best general in Christendom. He’s been leading armies, and winning, for twenty years. He defeated the best general England has probably ever had, even when Harold chose the most advantageous battlefield possible. At the moment the revolt is composed of the Northumbrians. Cospatric, Arnkell, the four sons of Karli and Maerle-Sveinn from Somerset, who fled north after Exeter. Even if earls Edwin and Morcar join them, which they have not done so far, the rebels will not have a leader or an army to match that of King William. Edwin and Morcar and the combined armies of the north were unable to even defeat the Norwegians- Harold had to do that.
“I’ve heard of a call to arms for Englishmen to march north to join the revolt. I’d suggest to you that you consider carefully what you have to gain and what you have to lose if you were to do so. You are not my men and I have no claim to give you instructions. My own men will be moving north- in support of the properly anointed king, King William. But I would urge you all to think long and hard before you act. This revolt will not succeed. Those who participate, if they survive, will lose all. King William is a man who rewards loyalty and punishes disloyalty. My recommendation is, if you do not feel able to support King William, that your interests would be best served by ‘sitting on the fence’ and taking no action. That way you lose nothing. Now I will leave you with Algar and Leofstan. A mid-day meal will be provided and I hope that you all make your own decisions that are best for each of you. May God assist you with your deliberations.”
That evening Alan and Anne sat at table with Leofstan. “What was the outcome of the discussions?” asked Alan.
Leofstan shrugged. “As you would expect. A lot of talk and hot air. A lot of patriotic waffle. Your point about the probable outcome of the revolt was well made and has caused many to pause for thought. I expect that in most cases the result of that thought will be to do nothing, as you suggested. Some few will march north and take their chances, but others will look at what they have and seek to retain that. The hand of the Norman invader has not fallen heavily on this Hundred, unlike others- you have seen to that. But men do want an English king and the Northumbrians have now elected Edgar the Aetheling, for good or bad. That will appeal to many whose hearts rule their heads- particularly those who don’t hold land that they may forfeit and so have little to lose but their lives. Englishmen, whether from the north or south, don’t like having a foreign king. They object to the favouritism shown to Normans and French, and to their arrogance. What the final outcome will be, we shall see. I’ll be staying at home and keep my sword in its scabbard.”
Two weeks later, on Thursday 26th February, Alan sat in the second row of chairs in the packed Great Hall at Westminster Palace. Around him sat the great nobles of the land, and standing in the back half of the Hall were the petty lords and their men. Some Englishmen sat amongst the nobles, including Earl Waltheof. Notable by their absence, although apparently invited, were Earl Morcar and Earl Edwin.
As King William rose from his seat, stern-faced and serious, the hubbub in the Hall quickly hushed. “My lords! Mesires!” he began. “Thank you for your attendance at this meeting of the Curia. The meeting is being held open due to the importance of our discussions. You are aware of the events of last month. The murder of the newly-appointed earl of Northumbria beyond the Tyne and the massacre of his men. In two years I’ve lost three earls of those lands! Two by murder by the family of Bamburgh, and Earl Cospatric of that family who fled in craven revolt after being named as earl of Bernicia.
“My patience with the people of Northumbria, and in particular the family of Bamburgh, is at an end. Robert fitzRichard held the castle at York and reported a large force of Northumbrians moving south and disaffection amongst the local Anglo-Danes. Yesterday I received dispatch from William Mallet, the sheriff of Yorkshire, that fitzRichard and most of his men were caught in ambush outside the castle and have been foully slaughtered. Mallet has requested assistance. He is confined in the castle and Edgar the Aetheling and the Northumbrian lords have been welcomed into the city by the people and nobles of York. My patience with the people of Yorkshire is also at an end. In four day’s time my army musters at Peterborough in Cambridgeshire. I expect you to have every man you can raise there ready to march north on that day.”
“What of Morcar and Edwin?” called a voice from the middle of the Hall.
“They are not here and have not answered my summons,” replied the king. “My planning is predicated on the predication that they oppose me. Now, I’m sure you all have much to do to prepare for war. I’ll see you all in four day’s time at Peterborough!”
With that William closed the session and stalked from the room.
Late in the evening three days later, on the first day of spring 1069, just after the monastery bell had rung for the late evening service of Vespers, Alan was sitting near the fire at an inn at Peterborough, tired, hungry, thirsty and with a sore back and legs. Darkness had just fallen outside and despite it being the first day of spring a cold and gusty wind was rattling the shutters on the windows. As he rubbed a hand tiredly over his eyes he reflected that he seemed to have been in perpetual motion for those three days. First a hard ride from London to Thorrington. A day of frantic activity at Thorrington as he finalised the muster of his men, then the marathon journey of 92 miles from Thorrington to Peterborough that day.
Anne had been left safely at the house at London with six guards, Osmund the scribe, her maids Udelle and Esme and of course baby Juliana. Alan was sure that Anne would take the opportunity to ready her trading empire for the resumption of activity with the presumably pending improvement in weather and would be meeting with her business manager Jacob the Jew. Anne loved the bustle, the shopping and social opportunities offered in London and always enjoyed her time in the city.
The day at Thorrington had been frenetic. Alan was glad he had anticipated events and that before he had departed from the manor to attend the meeting in London he had ordered equipment, supplies, horses and men to be ready at short notice. Weapons and stores had been ready packed and the horses re-shod, tack checked and oiled, leather tents aired, checked for mould and re-oiled.
Alan had ridden with 30 horsemen, a dozen archers and 6 grooms including Leof, all mounted, and 10 pack-horses carrying equipment and supplies. Alan had ridden his destrier warhorse Odin, who had displayed his usual bad temper and misbehavior. The horsemen were led by Hugh, Ainulf and Edric, the archers by the Welshman Owain and the Englishman Aethelbald. He had not followed King William’s instruction to bring every man he had. His feudal obligations were 6 men and he’d brought 42. The others, led by huscarle Brand and the Norman archer Roger, more than equal to that in number but mainly infantry and archers, had been left behind to protect the lands of Tendring Hundred against potential attack. Ship-borne attack by the Danes was an ever-present risk, and Alan also had little trust in some of his neighbours.
The longbowmen were Alan’s ‘secret weapon’ and they had been instructed to keep their bows out of sight in leather bags and not to practice at the butts. The horsemen were riding as light cavalry without lances, although these could be easily be cut if required.
His men were currently struggling with the wind and darkness to erect their ten-man leather tents on the common outside the city, where approximately 2,000 men were encamped. Alan had bought food for the men and horses, rather than having the aggravation of trying to obtain supplies from the army victualler late in the day and had arranged with a taverner for an 18 gallon kilderkin of ale to be collected by the men.
After downing two quarts of ale, and just as a bowl of mutton stew was placed in front of him giving off a delicious rich aroma, a messenger arrived to advise that Alan was required immediately at the abbey, where the king had taken quarters. Alan sighed, looked at his food and reaching a decision waved the flunkey to a chair while calling for the p
ot-boy to bring the man a quart of ale. “You had some trouble finding me,” instructed Alan as he wolfed his food down as quickly as he could.
Some ten minutes later they were striding through the town. It was fully dark but the messenger carried a flaming torch raised high so that they could see their path as they walked through the muddy streets, carefully avoiding the piles of rotting refuse. Most of the town was built on low-lying and marshy land next to the River Nene to the east of the stone-built abbey and they walked up a rise to the dryer limestone ground on which the abbey had been constructed. Despite the lateness of the hour the streets of the town were quite active, mainly with soldiers from the king’s army. Several patrols of foot-soldiers, a dozen strong, were making the rounds to ensure that nothing untoward took place.
Once inside the abbey Alan was directed to the abbot’s office, where the king and his cousin William fitzOsbern were sitting on a bench at a table near a roaring fire, papers spread in front of them. Noticing Alan’s travel-stained appearance the king waved Alan to sit at a bench opposite and to help himself to a cup of wine from the jug on the table. Alan did as he was bid and flexed his shoulders and back to relieve some of the stiffness.
“A long day in the saddle?” enquired fitzOsbern.
“No more than most. The distance from Colchester to here is much of a muchness at that from London to here. I’m just getting old,” said the man who would shortly be twenty-one, with a small smile.
“How many men?” asked the king briskly.
“Thirty- light horsemen. Pack-horses for the equipment,” replied Alan, deliberately failing to mention his archers. Anticipating the next question he added, “Mainly English, with Norman officers.”
The king pulled a wry face. “The English make poor cavalry in my experience.”
Alan bridled slightly at the implied criticism. “They’re properly trained and properly led. They’ll give a good account of themselves, as they did in Wales with Earl William here last year. They fought, and died, well enough then.”
FitzOsbern nodded his agreement. “True enough. Thorrington has good men, and well-led.” After a brief pause he continued, “Thirty men is a good number. You must have virtually emptied out your estates of every able-bodied man. I command the vanguard, and because of your success last year I want you and your men as scouts. We march at first light and will progress fifty miles to Lincoln. The next day from Lincoln to just short of York, seventy miles. The following day we retake the city.”
“For a large army, that’s traveling fast,” said Alan with a thoughtful frown. “In Wales we moved short distances very fast, but only after very careful scouting. We can’t move seventy miles in a day and have my men beat every bush and tree to see if it contains a man with a bow. What’s the lay of the land?”
“It’s poor for scouting,” replied fitzOsbern briefly. “It’s also poor for ambushes. Flat land with very few hills. Lots of marshes. The Ermine Street, the Old Roman North Road, skirts just to the west of the Fens. There’s a fair amount of light woodland and some thicker forests. The eastern part of Sherwood Forest comes up to the road. There’s just the one river crossing between here and Lincoln. No towns and only a handful of villages. Your task is twofold. To prevent a large ambush or unexpected attack on our forces when they are strung out along the road, but more particularly to prevent their scouts and spies reporting back where we are and what we’re doing. We want to hit York by surprise early on Wednesday.”
“Keeping the approach of 2,000 men hidden will not be easy,” commented Alan.
“At least 3,000 men,” interjected the king. “Probably closer to 4,000. The men from the south-west and midlands will be marching up the Fosse Way and meeting us at Lincoln. I’m leaving a strong force on the Welsh border so they don’t try to take advantage of me being distracted. Other than that, I’m determined to make a show of force.”
“Lincolnshire and the fens are the haunts of Hereward ‘the Wake’,” reminded Alan.
The king shrugged. “He has a few hundred men and could make some trouble, mainly by delaying us. He’s unlikely to be your worry. You’ll be scouting ahead. The flanks will be covered by others. Even 2,000 men take up a lot of road and I’m well aware that an army that strung out and with no room for maneuver is at risk. That’s why I want to move fast.”
Alan tilted his head and pulled a wry face, his body-language showing he didn’t agree but it wasn’t his problem. “I’d best go and pass the good news to my men that they have to rise two hours before everybody else, and get a good night of sleep,” he said, draining his cup and rising to his feet.
Between Peterborough and Lincoln were a handful of villages. Glinton, Market Deeping, Langtoft and Baston; the crossing of the Glen River; Bourne; Falkingham and, just south of Lincoln, Bracebridge Heath. Alan’s men soon developed a rhythm. Ten men would ride on the road itself some two miles ahead of the vanguard of the army. Wherever possible two squads each of ten men would push through the countryside half a mile from the road. Usually this was not possible on the eastern flank as the fens and marshes came close to the road, forcing the scouts closer to the road. On the western flank it was difficult to move cross-country even on horseback as quickly as the army marching on the well-made road. At each village the flanking squads would swing around to the north of the village, two squads entering the village from the north as the squad riding the road entered from the south. The remaining men would observe from cover to the north to ensure that no riders or messengers hurried north. The squads in the village would hand over to the army’s vanguard and then hurry north to take their position again.
At the bridge over the Glen River near Bourne two squads pushed past to cover the village from the north, while the others held the bridge until the vanguard arrived, before again leap-frogging ahead. No difficulties or incidents were experienced that day, and Alan had not expected any as they were moving through ostensibly friendly country. The next day he expected to be somewhat different.
Approaching Lincoln from the south Alan led a single squad to the wooden bridge over the River Witham to ensure that the large party of guards which could be seen about the bridge and the gate were in fact loyal to the sheriff. Lincoln is unusual in that it is built in a gap in the Lincoln Cliff. A limestone escarpment up 200 feet high, although less than that in the city, split the city into the Uphill and Downhill. The wooden motte and bailey castle built the previous year (unusual in having two mottes) and the foundations being laid for the stone cathedral dominated the landscape on the Uphill, rather than being centrally located or near the river. Alan and his men rode up the appropriately-named Steep Hill Road, the horses finding some difficulty in obtaining footing on the muddy surface. Despite its location in an inhospitable countryside comprised mainly of swamps and salt water marshes, the city was obviously large, bustling and prosperous, with a population of about 5,000- principally because of the navigability of the river allowing easy access to the sea and the proximity of the Trent Valley.
It was early afternoon when Alan and his men arrived at the castle, confirmed with the castellan that the army was expected and ate a hurried hot meal of pottage, mutton stew and bread. They then secured food supplies for several days from the victualler before the arrival of the army stripped the city bare of food and drink. They passed out through North Gate just as the vanguard of the army was approaching the city from the south.
They chose a location to camp about two miles north of the city and a quarter of a mile west of the road, hidden by a copse of trees. Despite the cold blustery wind the men soon had the tents erected, Alan instructing that only three be used. North of Lincoln the lie of the land showed some variation for the first time since leaving Peterborough. Between the valley of the Trent to the west and the low chalk hills of the Lincoln Wolds to the east, the land undulated and had patches of small trees and bushes instead of the almost flat and bare appearance of the land further south.
Alan instructed two of his four tw
elve-man squads to get what rest they could, posted four men as guards on the camp and divided the other two squads to produce four patrols each of two archers, four horsemen and one groom- the latter to act as a horse-holder. Alan placed the men so as to form a net, which included the camp and its guards, half a mile wide. Each group of men were carefully hidden and with their horses close at hand. Two groups covered the road itself, on opposite sides and with the second group being about 500 paces north of the first. Their instructions were to observe any person traveling south to the city, but to intercept and if necessary kill any person leaving the city and heading north towards York. Their task was made easier by the fact that the Roman Road ran due north as straight as an arrow, and the paucity of villages and farmhouses made it unlikely that any local farmers would be straggling home after a day in the city.
Shortly after four in the afternoon, about the time that Alan anticipated the main body of the king’s army would be marching into sight of the city, his men began to earn their pay for the day. In a period of about three-quarters of an hour four separate riders could be seen urging their horses north along the road. Three chose to ignore the call to halt and were shot out of their saddles by the archers, two having successfully avoided the first patrol and being shot down without further warning by the second. The remaining man was taken back to Lincoln with a two-man escort, for his guilt or innocence as a spy to be determined.
One man traveling south towards Lincoln was followed and later detained at North Gate because of his suspicious behaviour, not least his traveling alone.
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