[Norman Conquest 02] Winter of Discontent (35 page)

The Church of
St Edmund the King and Martyr W
ithout Newgate was, despite its very long name, a modest wooden church of Saxon construction and was Anne’s chosen church for attending services when th
ey were London. Apart from the a
bbey and the
c
athedral, London had a number of large churches, many of which were built of stone, as well as a myriad of small churches dedicated to virtually every saint in Christendom scattered every few hundred paces throughout the city, with most of the citizens of the city preferring to pray in small congregations with their neighbours. St. Edmunds was such a small church, situated just outside the city walls at Newgate and was barely
200
pac
es from the
town-
house at
Holebourn
.

The priest was a fat and usually jolly man of middling years called Edward, who took his pastoral duties to his small congregation seriously. The building was of post construction
,
with a nave about thirty paces long by ten wide made of massive oak posts and beams running down each wall and down the central aisle
,
with
strong trusses supporting the gabled roof of timber slats
and
the walls clad with timber. It had no bell-
tower
, with its bell being supported by a small external wooden frame
outside
the main door. The altar was simple and restrained, with a beautifully embroidered altar cloth and brass candlesticks. The golden chalice, pyx and other sacred
items
were removed by Father Edward to the rectory after each service
,
as the church was left unlocked.

Anne had in the past stated that the reason for her preference for the church, apart from its convenience, was that she liked both the priest and the members of the congregation, that it remained reasonably warm in winter and most particularly because it was equipped with rows of benches on which the congregation could sit. Both she and Alan found attending services in the church considerably more restful than those at Thorrington or Wivenhoe as they usually could simply be members of the congregation instead of having to play the part of ‘the lord and lady
of the manor’
.

However, it was no usual occasion when the following morning the whole household attended at the church, along with much of the remainder of the congregation summoned by the slow tolling of the bell. Aitkin, who had been lying wrapped in his shroud
near the altar
his death, had been placed in a fine wooden coffin, with candles burning at both foot and head. Alan and Anne were sparing little expense to give an appropriate send-off for a valued servant. After a simple but moving service conducted in English by a subdued Father Edward the cortege moved out to the graveyard, where in the autumn sunlight Aitkin was laid to rest. Aidith and Tiw stood with their arms about each others shoulders and sobbed in anguish.

That evening Alan and Anne dressed carefully for the reception at Westminster and rather than walk the short distance in their finery they had arranged to hire a fine carriage for the night. They and two men-at-arms, the latter in their best clothes and each carrying a sword and
seax
, stepped down from the carriage outside the entrance to the Great Hall. Oil-soaked rush torches lit the entrance, and inside were more torches and many candles attached to sconces. The guards were shown to a separate Hall for servants, while Alan and Anne entered the Grand Hall.

Festivities had already commenced and a stately processional dance was taking place
,
involving
about
thirty couples
and
with
a
similar number looking on. A band of a dozen musicians was placed along one wall in the middle of the
Hall
and they were playing with skill and verve. Many of the dancers were less skilled, courtly dances not being high on the list of things
usually
studied by noble
-born
Norman warriors. However, clearly some had received some education in that skill, perhaps recently at the insistence of their wives. A number of foppish courtiers showed elegant moves on the dance-floor.

Alan and Anne were conducted to Hugh and Adelize de Grandmesnil. Ladies’ hands were kissed and men’s forearms grasped. Anne wandered off with
Beatrice de Builly, the wife of Robert Count of Eu.

Alan, dressed in his usual garb of black linen and silk embroidered with silver, watched his wife, who was dressed in a low-cut dress of russet taffeta, circulate amongst her friends. “A fine turn-out,” he commented to his host Hugh
de Grandmesnil.

Hugh snorted
and gave a scowl
, watching a dance where the men hopped and leap
ed
like hares. “The
Hall
is full of homosexual pricks, pederasts and sycophants. They can dance and provide attention to the ladies, but are useless ornaments. It’s events like this that make me appreciate the benefits of my otherwise dullard retainers! Let’s go get a cup of wine and drown our sorrows!”

In the intensely political atmosphere of the court favourites there was no such thing as a
simple
social occasion, and Alan found himself repeatedly included in discussions. One of the main topics of conversation was
the political situation in the d
uchy of Maine, taken by William by force of arms several years before and now with his young son Robert installed as duke. The Manceaux were making their disaffection clear and revolt was expected. What surprised the barons was that William was apparently content to allow matters in Maine to take their course while he was bringing the English to heel.

Unusually for a meal involving the Norman nobility, this was not a sit-down affair involving large amounts of roast meat. Instead side-tables had been placed with a variety of finger-foods. Lorenze pies
;
sausages baked in bread rolls
;
small meat pies
;
spinach tarts
;
pork doucetty
;
veal crustade
;
pork flampoyntes
;
stuffed mushroom pastries
;
more meat pastries and cold
roasted
marinated chicken wings and drumsticks, all with a variety of dipping sauces and chutneys. There were excellent wines from Burgundy and the Loire.

Anne several times prevailed on Alan to take to the floor for
several
sets of the more restrained dances, principally line and circle dances. They stepped together as the dance and music dictated, now holding hands high and now arming, bowing and circling before sliding, progressing and stepping. After a set of bransels Alan begged off from dancing a set with
more complicated steps, standing with several of the younger nobles, including William of Eu, King William’s nephew, and Ivo Taillebois, near the drinks table for some much-needed fortification.

Alan sat at a table on the slightly raised dais at the head of the Old Hall at Thorrington, the residence of the former thegn now used as a meeting-place since Alan had built his new residence nearby. With him sat Algar of Alresford and Leofstan of Great Holland, both wealthy and respected local thegns. At tables placed close by sat most of the local thegns, village headmen and the influential cheorls, numbering in all close on fifty men. Noticeable by their absence were the Normans appointed as lords of some of the local villages. They had not been invited, although a few of their cheorls had been.

It was Wednesday February 11
th
1069, nine days after Candalmas had been celebrated. The weather outside was chilly and overcast with a steady drizzle
. D
espite the roaring fire in the
Hall
the men were cold and wore their cloaks wrapped tightly about them. Quart mugs of mulled ale had been handed out as the gue
sts had arrived and two serving-
wenches were circulating, holding two mugs in each hand and offering replacements to those whose mugs had been emptied.

“
Hlaford
!” said Alan in Anglo-Saxon English in a clear and carrying voice, cutting through the low buzz of conversation and calling the meeting to order. “Gentlemen! Welcome and thank you for attending today. Now that the Festive Season is out of the way, hopefully we’ll all have more time for our duties!” Alan was using his ‘public speaking’ voice- well projected, without shouting, slow and clear with brief pauses every dozen words or so to allow the listeners
’
ears and brains to catch up with his words. “I’m sure that we all know what happened some two weeks ago at Durham. King William, before he left to Winter in Normandy, appoi
nted Robert de Commines to the e
arldom of Bambu
r
gh,
which was
abandoned by Cospatric when he f
led after the revolt at Exeter.

“
De Commines arrived north of the Tyne last month with a substantial force of men, some
600
strong
. Two weeks ago the Northumbrians broke into the city of Durham, killed all the Normans they
could find, laid siege to the b
ishop’s house where de Commines was lodging. Unable to take it by storm they set it on fire. De Commines fled to the church and, like Copsi before him, was killed as he tried to escape the fire when the rebels burnt down the church. The Northumbrians seem to have this penchant for burning down houses and killing earls, but burning churches where men have sought sanctuary is something every Christian would deplore
!
” Alan paused and took a sip of ale. “While that is politically important enough, of greater importance is that the Northumbrians have not attempted to negotiate their concerns with King William, as others have in the last year or so- without much success I may say. They have elected Edgar the Aetheling as king. I hear that they are marching south to York.”

All present had heard the news, which had arrived and struck like a thunderbolt several days before.
S
ilence continued during a further pause by Alan. “Although I’m a Norman, I’m a man of this Hundred and I believe I understand the wishes of the English
gebur
s, and particularly the thegns and cheorls. The Aetheling is the last of the line of Alfred the Great. The English wish to have an English king. They wish the influence of foreigners to cease and for the foreigners to leave.” Alan paused again and looked closely at the faces before him. “I can understand that, although obviously most would say that I’m biased and have my own interests to protect, being one of those foreigners. I hope that my actions over the two years that I’ve been amongst you show that I have genuine concern for the people in this Hundred, and indeed all the English. I’ve done what I can to assist those affected by the excesses of those recently empowered, and protected the people of this Hundred from invasion.

“Have no doubt that King William will return from Normandy within days, if he
ha
s not landed already. He will go north like an Act of God. He is the best general in Christendom.
He’s been leading armies, and winning, for twenty years. He defeated the best general England has probably ever had, even when Harold chose the most advantageous battlefield possible. At the moment the revolt is composed of the Northumbrians. Cospatric, Arnkell, the four sons of Karli and Maerle-Sveinn from Somerset, who fl
ed north after Exeter. Even if e
arls Edwin and Morcar join them, which they have not done so far, the rebels will not have a leader or an army to match that of King William. Edwin and Morcar
and the combined armies of the n
orth were unable to even defeat the Norwegians
-
Harold had to do that.

“I’ve heard of a call to arms for Englishmen to march north to join the revolt. I’d suggest to you that you consider carefully what you have to gain and what you have to lose if you were to do so. You are not my men and I have no claim to give you instructions. My own men will be moving north
-
in support of the
properly
anointed king
,
King William
. But I would urge you all to think long and hard before you act. This revolt will
not
succeed. Those who participate, if they survive, will lose all. King William is a man who rewards loyalty and punishes disloyalty. My recommendation is, if you do not feel able to support King William, that your interests would be best served by ‘sitting on the fence’
and taking no action. That way you lose nothing. Now I will leave you with Algar and Leofstan. A mid-day meal will be provided and I hope that you all make your own decisions that are best for each of
you.
May
God
assist you with your deliberations.
”