[Norman Conquest 02] Winter of Discontent (26 page)

Prestatyn was not so lucky and three hours later
it lay behind the marching army
, sacked and burnt and with its animals all slaughtered. Holywell lay next in their path. The army had not moved far, only fifteen miles, but looting two
s
ubstantial villages takes time to do thoroughly and after sacking Holywell the army camped for the night. As indicated by its name, Holywell was a place of considerabl
e local religious significance.
St Winefride’s Well with its adjacent chapel
was
a pl
ace of pilgrimage. The chapel, w
ell and church were left untouched when the
army
departed the next day, but the
rest of the village was burnt.

As the small army moved forwards fitzOsbern kept the men under close control. There was a long history of savagery and atrocity committed on both sides of the border. The discipline rigorously imposed on the Anglo-Normans was not out of any benevolence or compassion, but the need to keep a small force in hostile territory under control and ready to fight at a moment’s notice. FitzOsbern and most of his leaders had no objection as such to a
little rape and murder, but such activity was distracting. Looting was taken as normal.
Rape, t
orture of civilians and the abusin
g of children was frowned upon.

Miscreants who overstepped the line were strung by the neck from convenient trees in summary
judgment
when caught. Each village was professionally plundered by men who obviously had considerable experience in locating places w
h
ere valuables may be hidden. Generally, the villagers and the occupants of the scattered hillside cottages had seen the approach of the army and had fled into the hills and forests. However, Alan was suspicious that the armed bands visiting the dwellings which were away from the main route of march were extracting revenge for those killed or enslaved in Welsh raids or ambushes- and were then perpetuating the ongoing circle of violence.

Holywell to Flint was five miles and was reached at about seven in the morning. Because the Welsh living on the northern border
itself
did not raid frequently and were fairly peaceful, fitzOsbern directed that the village, and the others on the further sixteen miles to Chester, remained unmolested other than having to provide food for
800
hungry men and nearly as many horses. They crossed the River Dee into Chester in the early afternoon. The castle was immediately on the
ir
right as the army crossed the bridge and fitzOsbern gave orders that the bridge guard be increased to
100
men, that the downstream Saltney and Higher ferries be guarded and men be sent upstream to Aldford. He didn’t expect Bleddyn to launch a major attack
,
but
it didn’t hurt to
be prepared.

With the castle barracks full and Englishmen not being given priority for available accommodation, Alan and his men set up their tent with many others outside the town walls on the meadow by the river. Their share of what booty
was available
from the campaign was thirty Welsh ponies. Short, at twelve or thirteen hands, but strong, sturdy and intelligent, they would be of benefit and Alan would pay his men a good price to buy them. He also had
twenty
or so swords and helmets as part of his share
of loot.

Alan went to the abbey to check on the wounded. From his troop, Wulfwick
,
the man with the spear wound to the stomach had died
.
Manwin, who had
received
a bad arm wound, appeared as if he would live but the churgeon had removed his left arm near the shoulder. If he survived, Alan would arrange his transport home and a suitable job and pension.

After a week and a half of abstinence Alan took his men to a local tavern for a good meal and a few pints
of ale
. Six hours later and blind drunk, the local town guard were more than happy to open the gate to let them out and get rid of them, after one urinated in the guardhouse and another vomited on the Captain of the Guard. The whole town was delighted to hear of the successes against the perfidious Welsh
,
and so the recently returned troops were given some leeway instead of being beaten
or clapped in irons. The
guard
c
aptain, as he wiped himself off, did make it clear to Alan that the courtesy would not be repeated and that Alan in future was required to keep his stomach’s contents to himself.

The following day Alan was not well
. It
must have been something he had eaten, he thought as he lay on his straw palliasse in the tent on the Green outside the town walls, wishing that the bells of the many churches in the town would fall silent. Fortunately his troop was not on duty that day.

The
next
day, while Edric led the troop on a mounted patrol upriver south to Aldford in accordance with the instructions of fitzOsbern’s Constable, Alan himself called to see the earl at mid-morning. This was a time that he had heard the earl was usually busy with the paperwork and minutiae of running the earldom, the martial nature of commanding on the Border Marches requiring constant attention. He wanted the earl busy and distracted when he saw him.

As befitted both his station and standing, Alan was shown immediately into the office where the earl was sitting behind a table piled with pieces of parchment, talking with his Steward and his Victualler, while two scribes sat at each end of the table making notes.
“Good morning, Sir Alan. Take a seat and I’ll be with you when I can,” said FitzOsbern waving Alan towards a stool.

“No hurry, Lord William. Whenever you are ready,” replied Alan as he sat. Moments later a servant poured him a cup of wine.

After about five minutes the Steward rose to leave, the Victualler remaining, presumably with other unfinished business. FitzOsbern looked up at Alan and asked
,
“Yes?”

“Lord William, now we are back at Chester and no further sorties intended, I thought that I would ask you
r permission to leave my knight’s s
ervice here early and travel to my estates near Hereford to ensure their readiness should Bleddyn attack in the south, rather than remain here in the north,” said Alan. “You’ve more than ample men here to cover any response by the Welsh here, but methinks the forces in the south may be stretched a little thin. Bleddyn is just as likely to strike there as here. Indeed
,
more likely if he has any sense.”

Another flunkey hurried into the room and stood waiting
,
holding several pieces of parchment. After a moment’s pause fitzOsbern nodded and replied
,
“Yes, you have my leave. Let me know if you see any shortcomings in my garrison at Hereford.” FitzOsbern paused again and continued, looking Alan in the eye
.
“You and I need to have a long talk before next summer about strategy on the border. This year the king intends to wear his crown at Gloucester at Christmas. We can talk then. My thanks for your advice over the last two weeks.
You have a clear head on your shoulders and a fine appreciation of what can and cannot be done. I look forward to working with you next summer.”

“Can’t I do castle-guard at Ipswich?” asked Alan plaintively. “Duty in your service is onerous
!
” FitzOsbern gave a bark of laughter at what he was
certain
was a joke, as every knight wanted to be where the fight was. As he waved Alan away he was still chucking.

*
*
 
*
*

Alan and his men rode out of Chester at first light the next morning as the gates were opened, crossed the wooden bridge over the River Dee and headed south. The men were armed but not wearing their armour
,
as the road didn’t run close the border for most of its distance. Each man led a chain of three or four ponies, each with saddle and tack. They pushed hard. It was
94
miles from Chester to Hereford and Alan intended to cover that distance in one day, with the men swapping between the several horses they led to keep the animals fresh.
It was 20
miles to Whitchurch and a further
21
to Shrewsbury, where they stopped for a meal at mid-morning, moving at
10
miles an hour. Then Shrewsbury to Leominster, crossing the River Lugg several times as it also wound its way south. Then the short
ride further south to Hereford.

The land, particularly in the river valleys, was rich and closely farmed, with a number of villages at regular intervals- most of which still bore the marks of the Welsh invasion the year before. The road was dry. High cloud kept the summer day from becoming too warm. Making good time, Alan decided that rather than stop at Hereford they would push on the further
9
miles to the west along the River Wye valley to Staunton, where they arrived an hour or so before dark, after
14
hours on the road.

Dirty, sweaty, sore, stiff and tired, the men dismounted and walked about to stretch their legs. In the time since
Alan
had last been here the villagers had completed building the Hall, barracks and stables. The protective ditch had been dug, the earthen rampart constructed from the spoil of the ditch and revetted with turf to make a
nearly vertical earthen wall which
was about half completed, as were the eight small wooden towers. The gate and the drawbridge over the ditch were complete and in place.

In the Hall the window shutters were open to let in the breeze and the last of the light- Alan and Anne had no intention of ordering expensive window glass for what was a rough but adequate frontier outpost
- and where they didn’t themselves reside
. Robert, Warren the
archer and Leofwin
e
the huscarle were in the
Hall
. Ledmer was leading the
mounted
Wolves on a patrol up the Wye to
wards Hay-on-Wye on the border.

Robert reported that the border had been
unusually
quiet and that there had been no reports of movement of warriors in the upper reaches of the Wye Valley from the spies that they had recruited in Hay-on-Wye and Rador. Training of the villagers of the manors as militia spearmen, swordsmen and archers was progressing well. The thirty Welsh bows ordered from Cardiff had arrived, the bowmen were starting to become moderately proficient and the fletchers had
made
a
r
easonable supply of war-arrows.

Alan advised
his
seneschal
that a further supply of swords and helmets, from his share of the spoils of the northern campaign, would be arriving by wagon in a few days, which would complete the intended outfitting of the militia, giving fifty each of spearmen, swordsmen and archers- most of the adult male population of the four manors. The weapons Alan was providing were similar to those
used by
the Welsh, mainly taken from them in the raid made by Alan’s men earlier in the year and the recently concluded expedition. Only Alan’s mounted men-at-arms and huscarles, ten of each being stationed at Staunton, were provided with
chain-mail
armour. The militia would fight unarmoured in the manner of the Welsh
or
the English fyrd, or
themselves
fashion armour out of thick boiled leather.

“
I’m glad things are quiet
,” commented Alan, taking a pull from a quart of ale to wash the dust of the road from his throat. “That means that the rest of the men I brought from Essex can go home. They’ll be needed for
the
harvest in a few weeks, and that’ll cut down the amount of supplies we need to bring in
here
. Today is Tuesday. They can leave on Friday the 13
th
and will be back home in three days. We’ve got
70
ponies now. I’ll leave
40
here, so you can move your infantry and archers quickly. The others can go to Thorrington, or more likely Wivenhoe and Great Bentley. You’ve already got
25
chargers and hackneys for your men.”

“
There is s
ome news that probably hasn’t reached Chester yet,” commented Robert
.
“Three of Harold’s bastard children who fled to Ireland returned last week with a raiding party of Irishmen and landed near Bristol. Godwin Haroldson was in charge. They raided the shipping in the channel and in Bristol harbour on the Avon and tried to take the city. The locals repelled the attack
- t
hey didn’t want anything to do with him and the thegns and fyrdmen
led the fight.
Then the
raiders
moved down the coast in their ships to Weston, sacked and burnt that village and then
moved
up the River Axe, about four miles south of Weston. That was one of Gytha’s old manors
,
so
perhaps
they thought they may get a better reception there. Eadnoth the Staller caught up with them there and beat them in battle, but he was
himself
killed leading the fight. Tovi the
sheriff
was also there, as was Eadnoth’s son Harding, and they pressed the fight after Eadnoth fell. The Haroldsons then packed up and went back to Leinster
in Ireland
. Gytha
departed
at the same time, apparently with several boatloads of treasure and household goods.”