[Norman Conquest 01] Wolves in Armour (38 page)

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.

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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 the 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.”

“When did you leave the battlefield?” asked Hugh.

“It was after dark. King Harold had fallen. The shield-wall had shrunk, reducing its length. The Royal Huscarles still insisted on forming the front rank and wouldn’t allow the thegns or other huscarles to maintain the line or to relieve them. They seemed to think they were invincible and wanted to do it all.” He paused for a moment and then continued, “Your archers were more effective later in the day, but mainly in shooting down the unarmoured fyrdmen in the rear ranks. When your cavalry managed to take part of the ridge on our extreme right and began to roll up the shield-wall Ranulf and I decided that it was time to leave. Harold, Leofwine and Gyrth were all dead by then and nobody was in charge. The Normans had about reached the middle of the ridge when we called it a day and ran like hares. King Harold had kept no men as reinforcements and had put everybody in the line.”

“Neither did King William,” commented Alan. “Apart from the Royal Huscarles in the front rank, how was the army organised?”

“Poorly. Men arrived the night before and chose their own position on the line, the men from different Hundreds and Shires were all mixed together. There was little effective control during the battle, but I suppose if you have 7,000 men all jammed together and all on foot, with the men all mixed together and not knowing each other, it would have been nearly impossible other than to say ‘Stand’, ‘Attack’ or ‘Retreat’.”

“What did you learn from the battle?” asked Alan.

Brand smiled wryly. “Firstly, never attack with enemy cavalry on an unsupported flank.” He paused in reflection for several minutes before continuing, “Proper organisation of your men. Keeping a reserve of men against the contingencies of battle. Don’t over-crowd the battlefield. The value of archers and cavalry, particularly when the horsemen have room to manoeuvre. The problems in using part-time and poorly trained and badly equipped infantry in a battle. What did you learn?”

“The value of discipline and training, and bowmen. The difficulty in breaking a shield-wall held by spearmen when you have no room for manoeuvre. The skill and bravery of English warriors. And to fear the man who uses the two-handed Danish battle-axe,” replied Alan.

“That’s my weapon,” said Brand proudly.

“You have your own armour and arms?” asked Hugh. Brand nodded.

Alan looked at first Hugh and then Anne. Both gave a nod, confirming Alan’s own opinion. But Alan was not yet finished.

“How do you feel entering the household of a Frenchman? You will know our custom. You swear fealty to me personally and you’re expected to carry out all orders I give. Can you do that for a Norman lord? Could you fight in a Norman army against an army of English or Danes?”

Brand paused to collect his thoughts into the correct words. “I’ve been asking myself that same question ever since I heard that a Norman man-at-arms was going through Lexden, Winstree and Thurstable Hundreds seeking men. I’ve not been impressed with most of the Frenchmen I’ve met who’ve come to Essex in the past few months. When I found that both he and his lord had taken the trouble to learn English, something few of the Frenchmen have bothered to do, I was interested. When I learned that the lord was the same man who used fyrdmen and farm-boys to destroy a small Danish army at Wivenhoe I became sufficiently interested to make the journey here. Any man who can do that must be very
prættig
. Now I find a man who is sympathetic to the English, doesn’t bear enmity against those he fought at Hastings, is building a small army of trained Englishmen, a man who is a leader of men and who is to marry a most intelligent and beautiful English lady. I think I can honestly say I would follow you to the gate of hell and help you kick in the gate. Your enemies are my enemies.”