The crutches had arrived an hour later. They were well constructed, the correct height and padded under the arms. After an exploratory trial, Anne pronounced herself ready to leave. As the fort was on a slight rise of ground several hundred yards away Alan still had Anne carried to the site.
“I haven’t bothered with a motte, as it’s simply not worth the trouble,” explained Alan. “Our main problem here is likely to be either Danish raiders, who would want to be in and out quickly and not bother with a prolonged siege, or an armed uprising of local thegns and peasants. Both of which this will cater for perfectly. We’re not on the route between any large towns, so no armies are going to come this way. If I’m stupid enough to have my own thegns and peasants attacking me I deserve to be killed in my bed! You’ll have noticed that I use almost exclusively local Englishmen for my troops. If there is any insurrection they are already in my Hall and ready to cut my throat!”
During the hard freeze of winter the labourers had been set to cutting wooden stakes for the palisade for the bailey. The ditch around the bailey had now been dug, six feet deep and the spoil piled on the defensive side, with the palisade put in place above, giving a barrier eighteen feet high. The barns, armoury, stables and the two-storey barracks had been erected. All were timber or wattle-and-daub buildings with wooden shingles for roofing, rather than thatching.
The gate and towers still required completion. The Hall, kitchen, latrines and bath-house were still in the early stages of construction, with little more done than to dig out the foundations and a connecting series of small narrow trenches. A well had been dug and lined with stone, with some six feet of water at the bottom. “The bailey is about one acre in size,” explained Alan. “There will be eight small towers, about ten feet higher than the palisade. You can see the position of the foundations. Each will provide a position for a dozen archers and each will have a ballista.”
“A what?” interjected Anne.
“A ballista. Sort of like a giant crossbow firing an arrow as large as a spear to a range of 500 paces or so. I’ll also have the two onagers in the bailey, so I can throw rocks at attackers for about the same distance,” replied Alan. Anne blinked in surprise. She’d never even heard of these engines of war. “The barracks has two storeys, with room for fifty- thirty downstairs and twenty upstairs. That’s completed, so let’s go have a look,” continued Alan.
Anne hobbled over and looked inside the ground floor. The barracks was a long thin room, similar in size to a traditional long-house. It was two-thirds occupied by a series of triple bunk beds, thirty beds in all. The remaining third appeared to have been left for eating and general use, although this was currently unfurnished. “The upstairs is similar but, but narrower because of the pitch of the roof,” said Alan.
“It looks like a tight squeeze for the men. Is there any reason you painted the building yellow?”
Alan shrugged. “The men each have their own bed, although the three-high bunks may be less comfortable than could be possible- but that is better than if they were sleeping with the servants on the floor in the Hall. They each have several wall-pegs to hang clothing and a small chest in which to put their personal items-which is more than most men-at-arms or servants could expect. As to the colour, the walls are made of wattle and daub, so it has to be lime-washed to make it weather-proof. I happened to have a sack of yellow ochre available and thought that it would make a change from the usual lime white. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
They went back out into the bailey. “There’s stabling for forty horses. Two barns, a granary and an armoury- all empty at the moment. See that small hill over there? It has a spring, and I’m getting the water piped over here in lead pipes to fill these two water cisterns, and- I really like this- the overflow will go into the latrines and wash them clean. I got the idea on some plans I once saw about a Roman fort. The latrine has two sections, one for men and one for women, each with a four-holed seat. The water washes underneath and takes the waste away and there will be sponges on sticks just like the Romans used to use, that also get washed clean by the running water in that basin. The spring water will also flow into the troughs in the stables- it does that before it goes to the latrines. Over here will be the kitchen. The heat from the fire will go through this trench to warm the water in the bathing room and the laundry next door. Err… I’m having some trouble getting the design right for that, but I’ve nearly got it! Here is my workshop where I spend my spare time making ‘men’s toys’ which will most likely prove useful.
“Now for the Hall! The main Hall will be thirty paces by ten, stone-built on the lower storey and half-timber on the upper storey, paved with slate downstairs. There are three large rooms at the end for a Solar, a private Retiring Room and an office. Upstairs over those rooms will be three bedchambers. There’s another wing built on at the side with ten smaller bedchambers for functionaries, guests and so on.” Alan sighed before continuing, “I’m having trouble with the heating. I want to use a hypocaust.” Anne looked totally blank. He might as well have said that he wanted to use a dragon. “Another Roman invention,” explained Alan. “You have a furnace outside which produces heat. That hot air is drawn underground under the floor of the Hall, heating the paving stones. It then goes to the wall of the private rooms, which have to be double-brick, with a space between, and then goes up the wall, heating the brick wall, before it goes out the vents at the top on the roof. The warm paving stones and brick wall heat the rooms. Getting bricks around here is a problem, which is why I’m mainly using stone. We’re going to have to fire some bricks of our own, which probably means getting somebody up from London who knows how to do it. The Hall will also have a fire hearth as usual, probably more for appearances than anything else since people are used to sitting next to a fire. Rather than a hole in the roof I intend to make a sort of chimney to take the smoke away. I’ll worry about making that by trial and error when we get that far.”
“But you are talking about something more luxurious than the palace at Westminster or probably in Paris!” exclaimed Anne.
“Probably, but only on a small scale. It’s just a series of engineering problems, none of which are insurmountable or even particularly expensive. Most men don’t get the chance to build their Hall from scratch to their own designs. I want to do that, do it right and make it comfortable. Some of the things will be expensive, like glass in the windows, but I can make do with shutters for a year or so until I can afford that. Do it once and do it right is my motto!”
“Big plans, but I’m sure you will make it work,” said Anne as she twisted to look at the site of the Hall and tried to imagine it completed. The movement brought a twinge of pain reflected on her face and Alan soon had her being carried back to the much more mundane Hall he had inherited from Estan.
All in all, Anne had a lot to ponder that night.
It was the third Monday of the month, the 19th of March. Hundred Court Day. Alan had arranged for the tithe barn to be cleared out. Outside a steady rain was soaking the land, to the quiet satisfaction of those present- all of whom relied on the bounty of the land in one way or another. Osmund had prepared the list of cases and explained them to Alan and the other eleven thegns present and presiding. Several other thegns were there to watch proceedings to see how Alan handled them. Court day was always good free entertainment. Given the wet weather, many of the freemen from Thorrington and surrounding villages also were crammed into the barn.
Alan looked at his notes written in Latin. The thegns had their notes written in English. Osmund was nothing if not thorough. There were four cases of theft by freemen, one by a slave. Three of illegal sexual intercourse. One freeman was charged with having adultery with another freeman’s wife. Two cases of unlawful wounding, five of assault causing bodily harm, eight of common assault, one of forceful detention and two brothers charged with fornication with the same woman. Two charges of unlawful possession of cattle, one of a horse. One case of possession of unknown
cattle. One of a man who found a cow to be unsound after it was bought. Two of housebreaking. One of bribery, one of slander and two of highway robbery. And one of witchcraft. It was going to be a long day.
Alan had previously arranged for Osmund to carefully explain the frithbogh and frankpledge system to him. This was a custom under which the inhabitants of a district, or a man’s kin, were responsible for a crime committed by any one of its members- responsibility usually rested on kinship. ‘Every man who wishes to be free must be in a pledge and that pledge must hold and bring him to justice if he commits any offence’ Osmund had quoted. Some of the charges brought before the Hundred court were by members of the frithbogh tithing of ten men, seeking to avoid their share of any penalty for wrongdoing by the defendant. Others were brought by the victims.
In each case the claimant was called and gave oath. In many cases the defendant was not present and a warrant was issued for him to attend at the next Hundred court to answer the charge. Some of those on the list were from previous courts and the defendants were still not present and more warrants were issued. Where the defendant was present, after the claimant had given oath of the offence, the defendant gave oath in reply. Some, mainly the simple assault cases, agreed to their guilt and were fined their three to six shillings, depending on the amount of damage done.
Two of the unlawful wounding cases disputed their liability and witnesses were called and gave oath. Both were convicted and fined four shillings- and warned that they were not oath-worthy and would not be able to be buried in hallowed ground unless they made compensation to the Bishop of London. One, though found guilty, still insisted on his innocence and demanded trial by ordeal. The court set the trial of hot iron, which required the person claiming innocence to carry a glowing red metal bar for nine paces, the outcome depending on whether the hands were found unharmed three days later. This was to be carried out in the presence of Brother Godwine after the proper procedures had been followed and in one week’s time. Alan was impressed with the man’s tenacity. Based on the evidence he would have admitted guilt and paid the fine.
The highway robber was without kin to speak on oath for him, his oath was rejected and as he clearly could pay no fine he was sentenced to hang, to be carried out the next day. Again, he would be buried in unhallowed ground.
At the mid-day break, sitting in the local tavern, Alan asked Alric if the case load was normal.
“About usual,” said Alric, as he washed down a meat pie with a pint of ale. “Except for the witch. I’ll be interested to see how you handle that one!”
Back to court to deal with the fornicators. The two brothers admitted to having intimate relations with the same woman, which constituted incest, but each denied on oath that they knew of the other’s involvement. On oath the woman admitted having sex with both, but insisted this was not at the same time and that she had told neither man of her involvement with the other. The oaths from those in the frithbogh for each man showed them to be men of otherwise good standing and reputation. The court unanimously dismissed the case.
Although half the cases still remained to be heard, Alan called on the witch’s case just before dark. One claimant stood and gave evidence that the woman, Rowena, had cursed her animals, causing her cow’s milk to curdle, her chickens to be eaten by foxes and the failure of the crop in her vegetable garden. She claimed to have six other witnesses ready to give oath. By now Alan had had enough. He had a splitting headache after listening to hours of neighbours pouring out grievances against each other.
When Rowena was called, she was very elderly with sparse white hair, no teeth, thin to the point of emaciation and drooling at the mouth. She clearly had no idea where she was or what she was charged with, muttering quietly to herself and staring into the distance. Alan looked at his fellow thegns, who looked back with amused expressions that clearly said ‘this is your problem’. Alan turned to Osmund and clicked his fingers to be shown the relevant part of the law book.
‘And we have ordained respecting witch-crafts, and lybacs, and morthdaeds: if anyone should be thereby killed, and he could not deny it, that he be liable in his life. But if he will deny it, and at threefold ordeal shall be guilty; that he be 120 days in prison: and after that let kindred take him out, and give to the king 120 shillings, and pay the wer to his kindred, and enter into bot for him, that he evermore desist from the like’. The Laws of King Athelstan.’
Alan looked up from the book. “Firstly, there is no allegation of anybody being killed by this woman’s alleged actions. If you are successful in your case, and I would indicate I think that doubtful, the most that will happen is that she will be driven from your village and told to leave the Hundred. Clearly she cannot defend herself and the court will need to appoint a person to act on her behalf.” Here the other thegns nodded agreement. “If you fail in your case, you and your witnesses will each be fined ten shillings for wasting the court’s time. This matter will take a full day.”
“But what of the Bible saying ‘suffer not a witch to live’?” demanded the woman.
“Whatever the Bible may say, in this court we apply the laws set out by the kings of England. Even if proven, she will not be put to ordeal unless she is convicted and then still insists she is innocent and demands to be put to ordeal; and she is incapable of doing so. Do you want to proceed?” demanded Alan.
“Yes, I want justice!” demanded the woman.
‘Justice’ thought Alan. ‘What has that to do with the law?’ He consulted a calendar that Osmund provided. “Very well, the matter will take a full day. It’ll be heard by three thegns on Tuesday the 26th of June. Osmund, can you please make arrangements to ensure that Rowena is here on that day and that she has somebody suitable to represent her, preferably a thegn. I’ll preside over the court that day. Right! The court is adjourned. All remaining cases to be listed on Monday 16th April, three days after St Martin’s Day. before thegn Alric.”
As he sat with the other thegns in the tavern quaffing a quart of ale, Alan felt that he had earned his ‘third penny’, the one third share of fines for the day shared by the judges.
The remaining five days to the Feast of the Annunciation on 25th March passed in a frenzy of activity. The peasants were toiling in the fields behind the ox-drawn ploughs. The soil in the Tendring Hundred was generally fairly light and fertile, so most ploughs had just four or six oxen, in place of the eight that were common in areas where the soils were heavier. The thegns and wealthier cheorls either supervised their workers or were collecting the last of the rents due to them to allow them to pay their own taxes or rents due on the Quarter Day.
Alan, Baldwin and Hugh spent much of each day in armour on horseback, honing their own skills and those of the Anglo-Saxon men-at-arms that they were training to fight on horseback. Alan had accepted Anne’s advice not to take on military service twice the number of men he was obliged to under the terms of his landholding, accepting that this could be seen as vanity and may result in an increase in his military obligation being imposed.
He’d decided to take five English men-at-arms and himself, leaving Hugh, Baldwin, Roger and Warren in charge of the military arrangements for the manor, but with firm instructions to consult with thegn Leofstan if any problems arose. The four ‘Frenchmen’, a term that they all found distasteful as three were Normans and one a Breton and all with a profound contempt for the French, fifteen mounted men-at-arms and twenty peasant archers in the village, together with the fyrd or local militia that they had begun to train one morning a week, should be enough to see off any unexpected incursions.
By co-incidence Annunciation Day that year fell on a Sunday, and the congregation was such that Brother Godwine had to move the church service outside to be held on the village green.
The weather was kind, which was fortunate as Annunciation Day, together with Easter, Midsummer Day and Midwinter Day, were days that the lord was expected to provide what was if not a feast for the villagers, certainly adequate food an
d drink for their needs on the day.
The long and tedious service that Brother Godwine conducted, with a sermon lasting over half an hour, was enlivened by the local children running about shouting and squealing, the bustle of preparations going on around them and the smoke and smell of animals being cooked on spits- the cattle had started to be cooked the preceding night- and workmen delivering barrels of ale and cider.
Otha and a small battalion of women workers were piling loaves of rye bread and huge yellow rounds of cheese onto trestle tables. The plump middle-aged cook knew from experience what the peasants wanted- simple food and lots of it. For many of the poorer sokeman and cottars, and certainly the slaves, the ample meat supplied at the lord’s feasts was the only meat they had during the year, other than a few scraps added to the vegetable pottage that formed their main diet, or perhaps the occasional rabbit or hare from the woods. They may raise pigs, using scraps, waste and the acorns in the forest to feed them, but they could not afford to eat them themselves as they relied on the five or six pigs they raised a year to pay their rent and tithes.
Alan arranged for the church tithe payable from his demesne, from his own produce and not that from the rental of his tenants who had already paid their tithe, to be transferred to the tithe-barn. This was done with great reluctance on his part, as he felt that Brother Godwine did little to justify even the glebe or the ‘Parson’s Acres’ strips in the fields that were part of his stipend, which were worked by the men of the village for him, let alone one tenth of the produce of the parish. Alan saw him as fat, lazy and stupid and was determined to be rid of him as soon as possible. The parish benefice was within his gift, but he had other things to attend to at the moment
CHAPTER EIGHT
MILITARY SERVICE APRIL 1067
Wolves in Armour nc-1 Page 16
