Early on Friday Alan sent a messenger to the castle seeking an afternoon appointment to see Roger Bigod, the Shire Sheriff, who Alan knew to be in the city. Orvin’s contacts and scribe had performed as hoped, and when Alan walked into the castle’s Hall accompanied by Orvin’s scribe Cynefrid he carried six rolled-up depositions of complaint.
Roger Bigod was about ten years older than Alan and had been a quite undistinguished knight in Normandy before the invasion. Afterwards William had granted him land in Suffolk and appointed him its sheriff. Both men were of similar status, both tenants-in-chief holding directly from the king but both with relatively modest estates. Alan was a member of the King’s Council and Roger was not, but as sheriff he also had the ear of the king. Of stocky build and with short dark hair he rose and clasped arms with Alan as he entered and offered him a cup of watered wine.
On being introduced to Cynefrid he asked if he needed his own scribe present and Alan suggested that it would be a good idea. Roger roared out to the guard standing on the other side of the closed door of the office “Send for Jocelin!” and chatted amiably until the clerk arrived. “Now what’s this all about?” he demanded. “You’re a fair way out of your own lands here.”
“We are both officers of the king here in East Anglia,” said Alan with slight exaggeration. “You know that King William has decreed that all Englishmen, and that includes those Normans and French living in England at the time of Hastings, have to pay to redeem their land.”
Roger nodded abruptly and said, “And I understand that you spoke against that.”
Alan made an acquiescing motion with his right hand and said, “True, but that’s of no matter. The king made his decree and it is law and we’re all required to uphold that. King William of course left these shores in March, leaving the governance of the land to his relatives William fitzOsbern and Odo of Bayeux. The Relief is, along with the quarterly collection of the geld, currently the most important financial activity in the kingdom. Collection of the geld is in the hands of the sheriffs such as yourself. You all have to account for each penny collected.
“As to the Heriot Relief, here in East Anglia responsibility to administer the charge lies with Earl Ralph the Staller, William the Bishop of London and Engelric the former Royal Priest. As it requires no fixed amount and gives some discretion, the Relief is open to abuse. I have heard many stories of sharp practice and abuse either by those three officers or their servants and I’ve recently started to investigate the accuracy of these stories in Essex. I have been here in Ipswich since Saturday, in that time I have been sought out and presented with six depositions detailing threats, extortionate Relief demands, demands for immediate payment or immediate forfeiture of land. In one case there was a demand that a comely daughter of a wealthy man must marry a particular Norman knight or the father will not be offered Relief of his land. I understand that the marriage is due a week tomorrow and that the maid, who is thirteen, does not consent but is being made to wed against her will.
“These are no doubt just a few of many instances of abuse in East Anglia. King William has ordered the Relief, but these abuses will not be tolerable to him or any moral-minded man such as yourself. It appears that fitzOsbern and Odo are too busy with the problems in their own areas of responsibility to keep a proper eye on the situation and that these three royal officers are either involved in the abuse or are incompetent in their supervision of their minions. The sheriffs are responsible for the maintenance of the law in their shires, so it’s not open for them to say that responsibility lies elsewhere.”
“You have spoken to fitzWymarc about this?” demanded Bigod.
“Not as yet. As you said, I’m out of my jurisdiction here, on personal business. I wished to raise the matter with you privately before it’s raised officially, so you can take such action as you think fit. I suggest that forbidding the marriage referred to in the deposition with the red ribbon would be a good start. Raising the other issues with the officers referred to in the depositions would be sensible and protect your own position. I do, of course, have attested copies of the depositions. You may like to pass the word around the shire that you would be prepared to accept and investigate further depositions.”
“You intend to make an issue of this with the king and the Council? Why? You won’t make yourself any friends amongst the people who count, including the king,” queried Bigod.
“Because it needs to be done and I’m not worried about upsetting those responsible for the Reliefs- or those that they have been involving or bribing. I have no political ambitions.”
Bigod stroked his chin reflectively. He privately conceded the truth of what Alan had said, and indeed had received some benefit himself. However, to do nothing risked losing the important and lucrative position of sheriff. “Jocelin, take the depositions, go through them and give me the details. Alan, I take it you intend to discuss these matters with Bishop William, Earl Ralph and Engelric?” said Bigod.
“Certainly, as soon as I meet with them. I have my own schedule and I don’t intend to run all over three shires chasing them. I’ll probably see them in London in a few months. If you want to advise them of our discussion and my investigations, please feel free. I’ll appoint a food taster and I already have bodyguards! There are six men waiting for me in the guardroom at the moment at escort me to my lodgings. I’m sure that if something happens to me before he returns, King William will not be happy- particularly when he still receives the depositions. I’m sure that all we Officers of the King will all act in the best interests of the king and the kingdom.”
Back at Carr Street Alan advised Orvin and the others the gist of what had been discussed and made arrangements to leave the following morning, with four guards staying at Orvin’s house for the night.
“I’m so proud of you, doing something to help the English thegns,” said Anne softly as they lay in bed that night.
“I just hope that we don’t both come to regret it,” said Alan feeling a little despondent.
Next morning, Saturday 16th June, accompanied by Brother Wacian, they rode out of the city as soon as the gates opened at dawn, Alan and each of the escort was wearing full armour, helmets placed on the saddle pommels, and most of the men were leading either the pack-horses or the newly purchased horses. Brother Wacian had met them at the gate, looked surprised at Anne’s riding attire and gratefully accepting the offer of the use of one of the horses. Alan and Anne rode at the head of the group as usual, but this time with their saddlebags filled with silver. When they were a dozen miles out of Ipswich Alan ordered a halt and allowed his men to remove their heavy armour. While they did so the horses cropped the grass, Odin standing close to Anne’s palfrey Misty and nuzzling her shoulder occasionally.
It was only when they crossed the River Stour and rode into Manningtree and Tendring Hundred that Alan felt safe. The weather had changed around mid-day, becoming cooler and overcast, before light showers set in and caused the riders to pause and rummage through their baggage for their cloaks to keep the rain off. Alan checked the oiled canvas covering on the parchments and books to ensure they were being kept safe and dry. They arrived at Thorrington in the mid-afternoon, to a tumultuous reception by Anne’s hounds and a genuinely warm welcome from the servants.
Alan introduced Brother Wacian to Osmund and Faran. Deciding that there was no use in delaying unpleasant matters he summoned Brother Godwine, advised him of the immediate termination of his benefice as rector of Thorrington Parish, paid him a month’s salary and asked him and his mistress to vacate the rectory within the week.
Brother Godwine was stunned, demanding to know the reason for his dismissal and was clearly disbelieving when Alan replied, “Because you are neither fit nor capable of dealing with the spiritual needs of the community. You’re too busy looking after your own interests and just too damn lazy.” It was telling that, so self-absorbed was Brother Godwine in his sudden fall from grace, that he never asked who was to conduct the Mass due be
heard the following day. When Brother Godwine departed from the Hall he was still declaiming loudly that he had performed his duties well, bemoaning his fate and asking what would be his future.
It was two weeks to the day to the wedding day and Anne was determined not to waste a moment of preparation. She sent a message asking for Rheda her cook from Wivenhoe, Wybert her Steward, and most importantly Father Ator who would be the celebrant, to call on her the following morning.
Hugh met with Alan and advised him that he had been able to buy 8 chargers and 10 rounceys at the Colchester livestock market and that he’d recruited 36 peasants who had volunteered to become full-time soldiers, about half of whom could already ride. The 20 most capable were being trained to fight on horseback, including controlling a warhorse with just the use of the knees to allow the free use of both hands. All were being taught how to use a sword and swordsmanship, which were not the same thing as the latter included footwork and offensive and defensive patterns.
Hugh had also found 23 trained but now unemployed huscarles, mainly from Lexden, Winstree and Thurstable Hundreds where thegns who were struggling to meet their Heriot and taxation liabilities had been unable to keep their retainers. Some claimed to have fought at Hastings, others to have left for the battlefield but arrived too late and some that their thegns had never received the call to muster from Earl Gyrth. Hugh was concerned about the seemingly huge amount of money that Alan was incurring to recruit and train soldiers, being aware that most knights with modest manors such as that of Alan were usually not wealthy. Alan set Sunday afternoon aside to interview the huscarles.
Roger reported that training of the 30 fyrd bowmen, 10 each from Wivenhoe, Alresford and Ramsey was progressing well. The men were in the main hunters and knew how to use a bow and only required to be trained to follow instructions to act as a unit and to shoot rapid volleys. Warren had taken over command of Alan’s current force of 20 bowmen, all of whom were local peasants and lived in the village, while Roger was attending to the training of the new recruits.
The next morning Anne spent mainly closeted with Rheda, Otha the Thorrington Cook, Father Ator, her various maids and some of the wives of the local thegns. Alan had announced the betrothal and wedding day at dinner the evening before and the Hall and village were abuzz with the news.
Alan, Faran and Osmund spent the morning going over the books, with Osmund reporting which thegns and peasants- cheorls, sokeman, cottars and other freemen- were behind in their payments of money, goods or labour, with Faran making mental notes as to which he needed to visit to discuss their obligations. The next Quarter Day, Mid-Summer’s Day, was one week away and Osmund was concerned that Alan should be in a position to pay his own taxes and tithes when they fell due that day, being one quarter of the annual rental for this and the other manors Alan held in the Hundred, and the money due for Wivenhoe.
A little before noon they changed into their good clothes and led the throng of servants and soldiers from the Hall towards the small wooden church at the edge of the village. Most wore cloaks to protect them from the thin drizzle still falling and the cold wind. There were many of the green cloaks that Alan had chosen as uniform for his mounted men-at-arms. All the village had heard one of several variations of Godwine’s removal and were agog at the news and that Alan had taken the stance that he had. Many had sympathy for Godwine, although virtually everybody admitted his shortcomings in the performance of his pastoral duties.
The small church was already full to overflowing as every member of Thorrington and the surrounding villages appeared to have come to see and form an opinion of the new priest. As those from the Hall joined the congregation outside the church, those inside began to file out, calling out that the service would be heard on the village green around which the houses and other buildings had been built. Moments later some men set up a trestle table which one of the elderly women of the village draped with a white cloth and placed the polished brass cross and the chalice, pyx and ciborium in place.
Shortly afterwards Brother Wacian appeared in a spotless white surplice and red stole, accompanied by one of the local boys dressed in a white cassock, who had apparently been pressed into the position of altar-boy.
As Brother Wacian stood before the altar the congregation crowded closer to see the tall and sparely-built priest. His knowledgeable and serious demeanour and clean clothing, both so different from that of Brother Godwine, gave the congregation an immediate positive reaction to him.
“Welcome, friends!” he said in a calm but well-projected voice that easily reached those at the back of the crowd. “Given the numbers attending today’s service, and not believing in turning any away from worship, I have decided that we will celebrate Mass under God’s good sky- although He seems to want to test our faith a little this morning! That matters not and let us now commence. Given the wet grass that you’re standing on, you are to remain standing and not kneel, other than when receiving the Host.”
He named a well-known English hymn to commence the service and began to sing in a strong and deep voice with the congregation joining in immediately. Because of the rain he had not brought out the Book of Services nor the Bible for the readings, which he handled himself rather than on this occasion asking any of the congregation to assist.
By his faultless performance he clearly needed no written reference materials and knew both the service and the two Bible passages word-perfect. His homily was on Change and Duty. By this time he was soaked through, with his hair plastered to his head and water dripping from his chin, as indeed were most of the congregation, but Brother Wacian injected a sense of warmth and freshness into the service that all the congregation knew so well.
As he dispensed the Host he invited all forward, even the meanest cottar or slave, and he distributed to each person with an intenseness and passion that made each feel that the service had been put on for their own benefit. Before he gave the parting benediction he gave a brief address on how pleased he was to have joined the parish, that his door was always open to all and they should seek his assistance if troubled. He also announced that confessions would be held from Prime, with two Sunday Services at Terce and Sext, to hopefully avoid future overcrowding.
There would also be a midweek service on Wednesdays at sunset, and Brother Wacian stressed that those attending the Wednesday Mass “Should not hesitate to attend in working clothes as Mass is an occasion for private devotion, prayer and reconciliation with God, not a social occasion. I recognise that many work dawn to dark and will do so particularly during the busy seasons of sowing and harvest.”
Those who were ill and unable to attend Church were urged to contact him to arrange confessions and Mass in their own homes. He also advised that he had some medical skills that, such as they were, he was prepared to make available to all. With the exception of the final Blessing, the whole service, taking nearly an hour, was conducted in English and in the rain. The congregation dispersed and headed in their various directions.
Alan asked Osmund to slip into the village tavern for an hour or so to listen to the local judgment on the new priest, although he was certain that after today’s performance and the cleric’s obvious devotion and love of his calling that the conclusion would be favourable.
After towelling themselves dry and changing their clothes Anne and Alan proceeded to the Hall where ample but simple viands washed down with ale were available, as after all the kitchen staff had also needed to attend Mass.
After the mid-day meal Alan began to interview the huscarles, with Hugh and (at Alan’s request) Anne sitting in on the first interview. This was of a man called Brand, a massive man who towered well over Alan’s six foot height, about thirty-five years of age with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, a flowing moustache and clean-shaved chin. He was clearly an intelligent man and had a self-confident, almost arrogant, manner. Hugh had described him to Alan as a potential leader of the huscarles. The interviews were being conducted at the high table in th
e Hall, with the other huscarles awaiting their turn sitting at tables at the far end of the Hall, a few sipping from pint pitchers of ale.
“So, Brand, where are you from?” began Alan.
“Tollesbury in Thurstable Hundred, held by Guthmund, an average sized holding of nearly five hides, pasture and a salthouse. Guthmund had in service myself and Ranulf,’’ here Brand nodded his head towards a table of waiting men. “The holding is assessed at thirty shillings.” Here Alan inclined his head in acknowledgement of Brand’s point. Ten shillings was the normal geld for the average village of five or so hides. “He’s just had to pay?5 to Bishop William of London for his Heriot and next week has to pay his Quarter Day taxes, so he told us that he could no longer afford to retain us, what with the re-introduction of the geld. I’d been there ten years. Before then I was a cheorl at Goldhanger, which was nearby, but I decided the rustic life didn’t suit me.”
“What experience do you have in battle?” asked Alan.
“A number of small skirmishes with neighbours or footpads over the years. Siward used us mainly as his personal guards when he was travelling. Then at Hastings, that was my first real battle.”
“It was for most of us,” replied Alan. “When did you arrive?”
“The night before. I was on the right flank. Not in the first rank, the shield-wall, of course. The Royal Huscarles occupied that position. I was in the second rank. The unarmoured fyrdmen with their swords and pitchforks were behind us, eight deep. Where were you?”
“In the centre, with Geoffrey de Mandeville’s cavalry,” replied Alan. “It was us who broke up the counter-attack when the Bretons broke. Tell me, why did the English right flank attack at such at early time, surely you could see that you were flanked?” asked Alan.
Brand shrugged. “We’d been standing receiving a hail of arrows and crossbow bolts for nearly an hour and then battling the Breton infantry. They were good fighters who knew their trade well. Those behind the front rank were impatient to get at them and when the Bretons broke and disorganized their cavalry behind them, Earl Leofwine ordered a general attack on that flank to try to route them completely. Unfortunately, it appears that King Harold disagreed and provided no support with an attack on the centre. Your cavalry smashed us from our left flank. Ranulf and I were amongst the survivors who got back to the shield-wall. As you know, many didn’t.”
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