[Norman Conquest 01] Wolves in Armour (29 page)

“The longbow?” queried Owain. “”Yes indeed. That’s why the Saxons haven’t been able to conquer my people despite several hundred years of warfare along the frontier, and why you Normans will have the same lack of result.”

Owain picked up the bow that was leaning against the rail. It was larger than he was at 5’ 4”. The bow was 5’ 9”. He said, “The bow is matched to the bowman, being about as long as he is tall. The bigger the man, the longer the bow and the stronger they both are, but more important is the draw of the bow. The arrows are a cloth-yard long, 39 inches. As you saw today they can punch clean through chain mail. A good bowman will hit a single target most times at 200 paces and have fifteen aimed shots a minute.”

He strung the bow and handed it to Alan, who balanced it in his hand and then tried to draw it. It drew easily enough to the chest, but he wasn’t able to draw it to the ear. “It requires a lot of practice,” commented Owain. “You have to train and strengthen the specific muscles that you need, which are different from hacking around with a sword. Even a poor bowman will hit a single target at 150 paces most of the time and will hit an army all the time,” he concluded with a quiet smile.

“Why aren’t they in general use?” asked Anne.

Owain replied, “Because the men who hire the men to fight in wars all wear chain-mail. Norwegians, Danes, Normans, French and English. You wouldn’t encourage the use of a weapon that makes your expensive armour ineffective and swats your best trained swordsmen or horsemen like flies. We Welsh normally use it in close quarters in ambush, to punch through the mail shirts of the English. We don’t have enough men to stand and conduct a proper battle,” he said ruefully. “We have no armoured knights or huscarles and have been happy to kill the flower of Anglo-Saxon nobility well out of range of their double-handed axes. There aren’t many of us, so we hit, run and hide, disappearing amongst our wild hills at will. They burn our villages, but at a price- and a turf-roofed cottage is easy enough to rebuild when the invader has left the valley and you had little enough in the way of goods to lose in the first place. They kill every one of us they can find, but would discover we respond to the hand of friendship more readily- apart from the traditional cattle-raiding along the border. We really aren’t worth the trouble that has been taken over us by first the Romans and then the English. Perhaps the Normans will see more sense.”

Anne was clearly not comfortable with the idea of the English being invaders and the earls of Mercia guilty of attempted genocide.

“Don’t expect anything different from the Normans,” said Alan sourly. “If one sheep goes missing you can expect Roger de Montgomery, Hugh d’Avranches, Roger de Lacey and the rest to be across the border by nightfall, just for the fight if nothing else. Have your king talk to William when he returns, but despite whatever promises are made if there is any provocation by your people the war-bands will be on the march.”

Owain nodded his head at the words of advice and commented, “Certainly, and there is no way our people will give up sheep-duffing or cattle-rustling, not just from the Western Marches but also from each other. It’s a national pastime.

“Now back to these bows. They have a draw-weight four times that of most hunting bows, even those used for large game. They’re a specialist weapon that needs specialist training. Perhaps not full time, but a couple of half days a week. I’ve noticed your liking to kill the enemy at range to even the odds, or put the odds in your favour. I have no problem with that. Why stick a sword in somebody’s guts when you can kill him with no risk at 200 paces? Fuck chivalry! War is about winning and having the smallest possible number of casualties. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking about having a combined-arms force, similar to what we Normans are used to, but with a difference. From what you say, you Welsh rely on bowmen. The English rely on heavy-infantry, as do the Norwegians and Danes- although they are more mobile by using their boats. The Normans use infantry and bowmen, but our main weapon is the armoured man-at-arms on horseback, and the use of manoeuvre on the battlefield. We won at Hastings despite that combination not working well and not being able to manoeuvre because of the ground. My thoughts are for 50 cavalry, 100 trained infantrymen, mainly swordsmen, and 100 partially-trained levy spearmen. And fifty archers, armed with longbows.”

“Good God!” exclaimed Owain. “Are you intending to fight the earl of Essex? I doubt he could raise more men than that!”

“No, but I have no doubt that this week’s invasion by the Danes will not be the last. Swein Estrithson has a claim at least at good as William to be king of England. After all, it’s only twenty or so years since the Danish ruling family was replaced as the kings of England. Harold Hardrada of Norway had a good claim, but whether that died with him at Stamford Bridge has yet to be seen. Swein was distracted last year by internal politics in Denmark, or it may have been a four-way fight for England and only God knows where the result would have gone! Certainly England would lie devastated under the heel of whoever had won.

“Yes, in the last few days we’ve been very successful with minimal forces and some use of tactics, something the Danes don’t understand as they tend to think with their axe. I intend to make sure that next time we have the men and machines we need so that if the enemy actually starts to think with their heads instead of their balls, we still prevail. Here in the east we face a number of risks from the sea, as well as the ‘give and take’ of politics at home. Rebellion by the English. Rebellion by the Norman lords. What would happen if William were murdered, or just dies accidentally? He has two sons. Who would support who for the Crown or the Duchy? Difficult times may well be ahead. This raid by the Danes is most opportune. It provides us with the weapons and the money we need to forge both a wealthy and a militarily strong Tendring Hundred, and to look after our own irrespective of what may happen in the future.”

Owain replied, “That’s all too complicated for a simple man like me. A figure of 50 longbowmen I can at least understand. How do you intend to achieve that?”

“Well, I believe that I have a master bowman standing before me. Do you have any other work that is pressing on you at the moment? I can offer you three shillings a week plus your keep.”

Owain’s eyebrows raised. Two shillings was what a knight was paid, and the knight had to provide his own armour, horse, feed and keep. “Tis a generous offer, and one I would find hard to refuse,” he replied. “How do you see this working?”

“I have my Norman bowmen Rogers and Warren, who will need to be retrained. The bow you use is not dissimilar to that used on the continent, but somewhat more powerful. I have twenty archers, based around Thorrington. All are used to the shorter bow and are reasonably competent with it, although I appreciate that is much different to the longbow. I would want squads of ten each at Beaumont, Alresford, Ramsey and Great Oakley. Maybe one later at Dovercourt. And with Lady Anne’s permission, here at Wivenhoe.”

“I’m not a bowyer. How do we get the bows?” asked Owain.

“You know one or two suitable bowyers in Wales?” queried Alan.

“Yes, in the Cardiff area. A good bow costs two or three shillings, and a skilled bower can make two or three a day. The main problem is a lack of suitable dried yew wood. It takes two years or so to dry.”

“Are there any technical problems?”

“Not really,” said Owain. “You’re familiar with the idea of composite bows?”

“Different woods and materials glued together to produce a bow with greater strength and resilience. Yes, they’ve been doing that in Arab lands for hundreds of years,” replied Alan.

“Well, the longbow is a natural composite bow, using the part of the tree where the heartwood and sapwood meet. Different woods with different compression rates, but from the one tree and in one piece of wood,” said Owain. “The traditional construction of a longbow consists of drying the yew wood for one to two years, then slowly working the wood into shape, with the entire process taking up to four years. The actual work to make a bow probably takes half a day for a skilled bowyer. The bow stave is shaped into a D-section. The outer ‘back’ of sapwood, approximately flat, follows the natural growth rings, while the inner side, the ‘belly’, of the bow stave consists of rounded heartwood. The heartwood resists compression and the outer sapwood performs better in tension. Your problem is going to be finding enough properly dried two-year-old yew wood cut to the proper requirements. That’s probably close to as many bows as get made in southern Wales in a year.”

With the favourable wind the ships covered the four miles to Brightlingsea quickly. Alan recommended to his men that they not put their armour on, commenting, “I can swim quite well, but not with forty pounds of harness on my back. Today you’re more likely to fall in the sea and drown than have somebody stick you with a sword.”

It was nearly midnight when they arrived off Brightlingsea. Although the moon had still not risen, the enemy ships could be seen by the lanterns hanging at their sterns. Alan had instructed the English ships to extinguish their lanterns, which caused the seamen some concern at the breach of standard procedures.

The attack went like clockwork. The English boats drew up near the eight Danish ships, which were anchored in a gaggle. The Danes loomed dimly in the dark, their silhouettes barely visible against the sky. The tidal water gurgled as it rushed past the hulls of the Danish and English ships.

Alan ordered four selected men from his ship to climb overboard. They stripped off and carrying a knife between their teeth swam towards the fat trading ship they was their first target. Four other men had as their target a nearby longboat. Moments later they also quietly swam away.

After what seemed an agonisingly long pause but in reality was only minutes, the stern light of the ship was covered once and then twice, the agreed signal. Alan ordered the oars used to bring the ship alongside its target and ten men swarmed aboard. Five minutes later the sergeant was back at the rail, advising that the ship was taken and the guards killed.

They progressed to the next boat, this time a longboat, where the process was repeated. As they had been informed, the ships carried only skeleton crews and few guards. Over the next few minutes the stern lanterns on the other ships flashed their pre-arranged signals of success.

The boats then congregated and Anne had herself rowed in a dinghy to the captured longboats, where the captives were being kept. She called Alan over and he was horrified to see perhaps 100 men, women and children chained together, mainly in a squatting position as there was insufficient room for them to lie down.

For most it had been two days since their capture and while they had been provided some gruel and water they had not been unchained and most were sitting in their own filth. Like the captives previously rescued many were sitting in a torpor, apathetic to their surroundings and what was happening around them. As each had their chains struck off they had to be helped to their feet and physically pushed towards where several water barrels had been set up by the mast for drinking and washing. A few of the women clutched young children either at their hip or by the hand, but most of the captives appeared to be less than twenty and single, or at least unaccompanied.

The few sailors who had been in the Danish crew were helping ready the ship for sailing. A quick look in the cabin showed why the guards had not appeared after the ship had been captured. Apart from the on-duty guard lying dead by the mast, the remaining five had been taken surprise by the raiding party and still lay on their bunks, each with his throat cut from ear to ear. The cabin reeked with the bitter stench of fresh blood and the sweat of the unwashed former crew.

While Alan supervised the disposal of the dead Danes, solved by the simple expedient of throwing them over the side, Anne disappeared to inspect the cargo-ships. She was gone for some time and by the time she returned Alan had moved two of the longboats close to the beach just by the village and sent for Edsel, the King’s Reeve for the village.

It was after four in the morning, the sun was up and the village had been stirring even before Alan’s men had started to knock peremptorily on doors. Alan’s men were carefully and gently assisting the former captives down from the bows of the two longboats beached on the mud-flat. The other ships were slowly sailing north up Barfleet Creek towards Thorrington.

Surprised that Anne had not returned, Alan gave Edsel instructions for the village to care for the released captives. When Edsel tried to demur, complaining about the cost, Alan uncharacteristically lost his temper.

“Listen, you mean weasel!” he roared. “Wivenhoe is also caring for refugees, and I’m taking another 100 to Thorrington. It’s time for you and your village to accept its responsibilities. When Edward came through here warning of the raiding fleet and requesting men to accompany him, you said nay and gave him not one man.

“I tell you this. If Edward and the other thegns had not met and defeated the Danes at Wivenhoe, your pretty village of Brightlingsea would be getting burned to the ground and its people massacred today. And all you can do is whine about ‘who is going to pay the cost of the food and drink?’ You are the King’s Reeve. You are responsible and you can attend to it. I’ll be speaking to King William when he returns and I doubt that you will be retaining your position in six months time.”

Alan stalked back to the longboat and was surprised when some of the refugees requested permission to re-board and accompany him to Thorrington. In particular one young lad of about twelve, thin and poorly dressed and with long dark hair, had been following Alan like a shadow.