[Norman Conquest 02] Winter of Discontent (36 page)

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
- y
ou 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 s
outh, 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 26
th
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 l
ords! 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
e
arl of Northumbria beyond the Tyne and the massacre of his men. In two years I’ve lost three
e
arls of those lands
!
Two by murder by the family of Bamburgh, and Earl Cospatric of that fa
mily who fled in craven revolt
after being named as e
arl 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 report
ed
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 d
ays later, on the first day of s
pring 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 des
pite it being the first day of s
pring 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
1
0
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 a
n 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 pot-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 l
ong 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- l
ight horse
men.
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 g
ood men
, and w
ell-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 p
oor for scouting,” replied fitzOsbern briefly. “
It’s a
l
so 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 j
ust 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 haunt
s
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.”