[Norman Conquest 01] Wolves in Armour (22 page)

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 and 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

Alan and five mounted men-at-arms, together with three pack horses, rode out of Thorrington a little after three in the afternoon of Friday the 30th of March for Colchester. They were to join the band of Robert fitzWymarc due to march the next day to Alan of Brittany’s castle in Cambridge and then join William fitzOsbern to perform Alan’s annual knight’s service of forty days. With daylight now being nearly thirteen hours a day, the mounted band expected to be able to cover the distance of sixty odd miles the next day. Rather than stay overnight at the castle, when they arrived at Colchester Alan went to his usual haunt of ‘The Three Hounds’, sending a message to fitzWymarc that he and his men would arrive at the castle before first light.

Alan instructed the inn-keeper that he and his men would require a substantial breakfast and individually wrapped lunches of fresh bread, cold meat and cheese before leaving early in the morning. Each man would carry his own one-gallon skin of water.

Next morning, still in the pre-dawn dark, the grumbling but well-fed men mounted their horses and led the pack-horses the short distance to the castle. Used to campaigning, Alan had loaded the pack-horses with the rolled up hauberks of each man, clearly marked as to owners, a ten-man tent, cooking pot and implements and a supply of dried beef jerky and dried beans. Alan was riding a large rouncey, with Odin being on stud duty at Ramsey and Alan not expecting to need the services of a war-trained destrier.

First light was breaking when they arrived at the castle after a ride of a few minutes through the still quiet streets of the town and were admitted into the bailey. A number of horses were milling around in the bailey, either being loaded or having their tack completed, saddle straps pulled tight, reins and bits fitted. The men-at-arms and their lord had not yet appeared, so Alan and his men dismounted and walked about stretching their legs, well aware that the coming day in the saddle would test their thigh muscles. The priory bells were ringing the dawn service of Prime when fitzWymarc and his men emerged from the Hall.

FitzWymarc took one look at Alan’s men and then commented, “What’s the matter, couldn’t you afford good Norman men-at-arms? I didn’t expect to be riding with Englishmen at my side today.”

Alan’s men remained unperturbed as the comment had been made in Norman French and they hadn’t understood it. They could tell from the expression on Alan’s face that he wasn’t happy. “I’d have thought that you had been in England long enough to appreciate the fighting qualities of the English. What is it, ten years? Although of course you weren’t there at Hastings- on either side!” FitzWymarc scowled as the verbal thrust went home.

FitzWymarc and his nine men, ranging from a youth who would not yet have started to shave to several grizzled veterans, mounted up. They also were not wearing their armour, which had been placed on several pack-horses. FitzWymarc led his men out of the castle gate and on the road to Cambridge, with Alan and his men following at their tail. It was an uncomfortable ride, not just because of the rigors of riding sixty miles on horseback. The Normans rode with little conversation. FitzWymarc, who was the only one of the Norman party who could have conversed with the English, chose to ride on ahead and ignore them. For their part the English spoke little amongst themselves, but did make the occasional joke; the laughter which resulted appeared to disgruntle the Normans even more as they assumed that the jokes were against them.

FitzWymarc called a halt at noon at the village of Haverhill, thirty miles from Colchester. FitzWymarc and his men walked into the village tavern and disappeared from view. Alan’s men watered their own horses at the water-trough outside the tavern, gave each a nose-bag of chaff and moved them to the shade- and ignored the Norman’s horses which were left standing in the sun.

Alan and the Englishmen, Ainulf, Edric, Alfward, Ledmer and Acwel sat on the bench outside the tavern with a couple of locals. Alan called the pot-boy to deliver quart pitchers of ale while they ate the cold meal that had been provided by ‘The Three Hounds’. Ledmer and Acwel exchanged gossip with the two local cheorls with whom they were sharing the bench. Alan was using his knife to smear some very tasty brie cheese on the last of his fresh bread when fitzWymarc and his men reappeared at about one o’clock. Tossing a couple of coins to the pot-boy, Alan and his men mounted. They proceeded on to Cambridge, arriving a little after four in the afternoon.