[Norman Conquest 02] Winter of Discontent (8 page)

The previous
night the
boat
fisherman had been able to go out and lay baited traps offshore for lobster, which had been retrieved and the lobsters were sitting in holding tanks of seawater and being purged of their waste, which
took
several days. Scallops and mussels had been gathered, again mainly sitting in the
salt-water holding
tanks awaiting future use. Today flounder and other flatfish had been caught in the shallows. She had plaiced orders
(
*
pun intended)
for
flatfish,
catfish, cod and haddock, but not the oily herring. Live fish
were
preferred
, and d
olphin if caught. Small holding
-pens
for live fish had been established on the ti
dal section of Alresford Creek.

Anne hadn’t been entrusted with the operation of her previous husband’s household and, this being the first Lent period since her marriage, she intended to fully extend her intellect to the problem of catering for forty days to a husband who hated fish. The non-availability
for six days of the week
, for religious reasons, of eggs and dairy products did not help as this reduced the available range of sauces and other dishes.

Frankly, Alan, although in other ways quite devout, was not particularly concerned about complying with dietary restrictions. The previous year had been the first in which he’d had any control over what appeared at table and he was sure that the Good Lord appreciated his other qualities. He was to some extent a servant of his stomach, even at risk to his immortal sole
(
*
pun also intended)
. But Anne was in charge
-
and each Sunday he would be free to eat his fill of red meat, swine, eggs and dairy produce. ‘If you eat enough of something in one day maybe you wouldn’t miss it for the next six,’ he mused.

In fact Anne had arranged for Otha the cook to have more than enough to work with. Tonight
’s meal
was mussels and scallops braised in white wine and with garlic and onions, with Lenten foyles of cabbage, spinach, turnip greens, collard greens, almond milk, currents, salt and pepper. Tomorrow would be flounder with ginger sauce, fried gourd and cress with almond milk. Whether an interesting menu could be maintained with limited ingredients for forty days would be a challenge.

Unfortunately,
food which
should have been
lightly
braised was cooked to death, the mussels and scallops being as tough as old boots and the foyles burnt. Alan and Brother Wacian had eaten worse and chewed away without complaint, although also without
much
enjoyment. Fortunately there were no local re
strictions on wine, and Alan bro
ached a flagon of fine Bordeaux red to make up for the
poor
food.
Alan
suggested that Brother Wacian and Anne play a game of Tabula while he wrote
a letter
to his father. The need for a top-quality horse trainer was the immediate cause, but had made Alan recognise that it was many months since he had written to Normandy. He mentally reassured himself that the reason for this was the difficulty in having messages delivered overseas, but he wasn’t entirely convinced by his own argument.

The letter was dispatched
to Aaron the Jew in
Colchester, with a request that he have it forwarded to the Jewry of Amiens and hence to Alan’s father at
Gauville. The delivery method would be relatively expensive, but quick and certain.

*
* 
*
  *

February passed slowly. Winter’s hard grip remained on the land and the days when the peasants could work the fields, the fishermen ply their boats
and nets
or the soldiers train outside were rare. Manure and marl were supposed to be carted to the fields and spread, but this was behind schedule. Alan was again going to use the three-field system on his land
. This,
together with other innovations such as increased sowing rates and selection of seedstock, had the previous year provided him with nearly double the crops grown in the more traditional two-field system still used by the villagers. The extra grain had also allowed him to keep additional livestock over the winter, instead of slaughtering all but the breeding stock in the autumn, which in turn would allow an increase in the size of
his
herds in the coming year.

The salthouse owned by Alan on Barfleet Creek was one of the few areas of activity. The salt that had been harvested from the salt-pans at the end of the summer had been cleaned and stored in sacks stacked on racks above the ground to avoid moisture, and was now being milled and placed in barrels ready for sale when the roads re-opened. A little less than half the salt in storage belonged to Alan, the re
mainder
belonged to the villagers who were charged ten percent of the harvest for the use of the storage and milling facilities. Alan owned similar salthouses at his manors of Bradfield, Ramsey and Great Bentley, and two each at Beaumont and Great Oakley. Many of the other manors in the Hundred had
similar
salthouses
and these formed an important part of the local economy, being the main cash-earner for most villages. Alan and his villages had increased the number of saltpans the previous spring to allow extra funds to pay the
geld
tax
that King William had re-introduced
the previous year
.

At least three mornings a week Alan conducted training
for his warriors
in the covered
salle d’armes
, keeping his own edge and improving the skills of the recruits. His deputy Hugh did the same at the manor he was supervising for Alan, albeit in his case outdoors when weather permitted
,
due to lack of indoor facilities. There was no training ahorse for the men-at-arms as the deep snow on the training field precluded this.

Alan spent most afternoons tinkering in his workshop, with the occasional assistance of
the village
carpenter,
building
the eight ballistae and two onagers he intended to dispatch to Staunton in the spring. Life settled into a boring rustic existence while the people, animals and land waited for spring.

The holding pens by the Alresford creek for the live fish worked quite well, allowing fresh fish and shellfish to be kept, although the tanks for the crabs and lobsters were not as successful due to their cannibalistic nature. They were placed in the tanks to be purged, which made them hungry
-
so they tried to eat each other.

The shellfish, lobsters and crabs were reserved for the
high-table
. The Hall servants and soldiers ate fresh fish when available, and salted when it was not. There was
only
one week when because of protracted storms Brother Wacian granted a dispensation to the villagers to eat the meat of fowl, which Alan took advantage of despite the Hall having ample supplies of
salt fish, having some of the chickens, peafowl, pheasants and quail
which were usually
kept in pens killed
to provide variety to the diet.

By assiduous effort a varied and interesting menu featuring seafood, albeit with usually just one main course, was maintained. After the first disaster Anne had made it clear to Otha the cook that, at least at
high-table
,
they expected well cooked and
well
presented meals. Being bored and cooped up inside was bad enough without having to eat poor food. A good meal, with fine wine, gave the day a lift
. W
hile the dietary restrictions of Lent caused some problems it didn’t mean that they had to eat fish stew every night.

Each Sunday, as permitted by custom, cows, calves, pigs, chickens and sheep were slaughtered and cooked for the eighty or so occupants of the Hall and barracks
;
dishes featuring eggs were prepared and cheese eaten.
The hoi polloi as usual ate food of a basic but filling nature, while Otha was required to use every drop of her talent to
produce
high-
quality meals for the
high-table
. Brother Wacian was a frequent guest at table. To his chagrin and embarrassment he began to put on weight, which he was not supposed to do while suffering the privations of Lent.

In the middle of March the weather improved and the frozen earth softened enough to allow ploughing to commence and the spreading of manure to be completed. The mares and cows were due to drop their young in another month or so and the sows were farrowing.

Alan had always prided himself on his self-control and temperament, but
he
did
admit that on the very few occasions he lost his temper it was something memorable and spectacular.

On this occasion, after
receiving a message passed on by
his clerk Osmund, he was absolutely incandescent with anger.
H
e w
as
standing in the
salle d’arm
s, the covered training room just off the armoury. Alan had been drilling five men in the large room with its dirt floor
,
with the assistance of Brand the huscarle and with the youth Leof observing and learning.

There were four oak posts, each six inches thick, set deep into the dirt floor. Two had straw dummies attached. Alan drew his sword in a flash and within moments had reduced each of the straw dummies to chaff. A double-handed backhand swipe at the next post had the sword penetrate half way before becoming stuck. Alan with a conscious effort opened his hands and released the hilt. He loved that sword and he wasn’t quite
that
angry that he wanted to break it. Snatching up a two-handed Danish war-axe from the rack of weapons, he reduced the fourth post to kindling in moments before standing with the axe-head on the ground, leaning against the haft and panting
slightly
.

Brand raised his eyebrows, dismissed the men and took the axe out of Alan’s unresisting hands, putting it back in its slot in the weapons
rack
. “Now that you’ve got that out of your system, let’s go inside and sort out what we need to do,” he said in a deliberately bland voice. He looked at Leof and pointed at the still
-
quivering sword embedded deep in the wood
.
“Get Aethelhard the blacksmith,” he instructed
the youth
.

They walked the short distance to the Hall. Anne sat in a chair near the fire, wearing a green velvet dress and a cloak lined with ermine fur, sewing some sort of garment. Her belly was by now slightly swollen, with her first child expected in the autumn. She gave a cheerful smile until she saw that Alan’s face was like thunder and asked
,
“What’s the problem?”

“
The d
amn
ed
Welsh raided over the border again and burnt and sacked Norton Canon for the second time in six months,” explained Osmund quietly. “Robert’s messenger just arrived. As you know Alan was waiting until the spring crop sowing was over before he punished them for their last transgression. They beat him to it.”

Leof came into the
Hall
, carrying Alan’s sword which Aethelhard had extracted from the oak post in the
salle d’arms
. Alan saw him and handed over the baldric and scabbard for Leof to put the sword away.

It was Maunday Thursday, 20
th
March in the year 1068
,
Easter
being
very early that year.

“The Feast of the Annunciation
on 25th March
is on Tuesday next week, in five days. Another damn Quarter Day
with taxes to be paid
!
I want two ox-carts with flour and seed grain on their way to Staunton tomorrow. Yes, I know
that day is
Good Friday, just do it
!
No, make that three
carts
and add some sacks of dried beans and barrels of dried or salted fish or beef. The Vale can’t support or feed our men. Brand, have ten huscarles ride on the wagons. The rest of us will leave on Wednesday, escort the taxes to Colchester and then proceed to Staunton. That’s
a jou
rney of four days if we push it,
225
miles. The ploughing here is complete. Any sowing or harrowing still needing to be done after Lady Day can be done by the women and children and those men left behind. I want all
30
of the mounted men-at-arms we have, the Wolves, and
40
of the
50
longbowmen.
I also want 50
of the
63
infantrymen who answer to me. Put their armour and a supply of
2,000
arrows on the carts leaving tomorrow, so the men can march unladen. I’ll leave Hugh in charge here with Anne and a small force in case anything happens here. Contact the thegns and invite them to send along
their mounted men-at-arms and huscarles, and pass word to the men of the fyrd that I’d welcome any trained man who wishes to march with us, paid at a penny a day.”