Winter of Discontent nc-2 Page 9

  Whilst there was nothing of news in this recitation, the political outcome soon became clear. Rougemont Castle had been constructed in Exeter and was entrusted to Baldwin de Muelles, brother of Richard fitzGilbert, and he was appointed sheriff. Brian of Brittany was given command of a force of soldiers to be based at Wells. Robert of Mortain received the manor of Bishopsgate and given permission to erect a castle. The Bishop of Coutances, Geoffrey de Mowbray, was made Port-Reeve of Bristol.

  It had been immediately after the Exeter revolt that Edgar the Aetheling and his party had fled north to Scotland, presumably because they expected to be implicated.

  After a protracted midday meal, the Curia resumed its hearings during the afternoon. Alan thought the process something like trying to find small jewels in a bucketful of sand, with lots of dross and the occasional gem that made it all worthwhile.

  At mid-morning on Thursday, after the hearing of a further land dispute, Regenbald announced that judicial powers in Mercia, except in Cheshire (which was firmly in Earl Edwin’s grasp) would be given to Aethelwig, the abbot of Evesham. Evesham was an abbey much favoured by the Mercian earls, so this of itself shouldn’t be of much concern to the earls, mused Alan, but it certainly showed the king’s lack of favour to the earl of Mercia. The next announcement came as something of a surprise. Roger de Montgomerie was to be appointed earl of Shrewsbury and given leave to build a castle, the land to be carved out of Earl Edwin’s holding. The making of earldoms out of the larger scirs of the major earls was not without precedent, but the scowl of Edwin’s face and that of his brother Morcar showed their feelings about this announcement.

  That evening Alan had arranged for several of the middle-level thegns and knights to attend at Holebourn Bridge for dinner. The Normans were his good friend Roger Bigod, Ivo Taillebois, Robert le Blond, Bernard de Neufmarche, who held land near Alan’s demesne in Hereford, Roger of Arundel and William de Courseulles. Roger of Arundel and William had recently profited by the grant of manors following the Exeter revolt. The English thegns attending were Thorkel of Arden who was the sheriff of Warwickshire, Aetheldred of Yalding in Kent, Godric the Steward who had charge of royal manors in Essex, Norfolk and Suffolk and Sigar of Thriplow in Cambridgeshire. There was also an older man of slightly higher rank, Eadnoth the Staller, sheriff and the King’s Master of Horse in Somerset.

  They were a relatively young group, most of the Normans in their twenties or thirties, with the English on average slightly older. They spoke Norman French, which most Englishmen of quality could speak fluently as most were well-travelled and had journeyed overseas to the continent, usually several times. The men were a little reticent at first, the English and Normans not being known to each other.

  “An interesting day at Council,” commented Roger Bigod as a conversation-starter, taking a sip from his cup of wine and setting it back down on the large table around which they all were seated. He paused and nodded to Alan, saying “Nice wine! From Bordeaux? I thought so. Very nice!” The others had at their elbows, according their preference, wine, ale, cider or mead. Anne sat at the head of the table with a jug of fruit juice. Beside her Osmund held a pint jack of ale.

  “Indeed,” replied Eadnoth. “I rather think that the king set a few cats loose in the pigeon loft today. I think that Earl Edwin was less than happy with the effect of the charters on his position.”

  Alan shrugged and said, “Well, I can understand William’s position. He invades the country, wins by force of arms and is crowned king. He receives the homage of the country- well, most of the country. Then Eustace of Boulogne, who led the Norman right flank at Hastings, leaves the country in a huff- then comes back and attacks Dover castle before fleeing again. An invasion by the Welsh and some renegade Englishmen in Shropshire lays waste to that shire and Herefordshire. There’s the trouble in the north involving Copsi. Then Gytha, Godwin’s widow and Harold’s mother, incites rebellion in Exeter. The Aetheling and many of his party take horse and flee to Scotland. Presumably they were involved in the revolt. The thing I found surprising was that King William neither burnt Exeter to the ground nor demanded much in the way of recompense.”

  Eadnoth put his pitcher of ale on the table and wiped his moustache before he said, “That was probably because I and others made it clear to the king that the revolt had little general support in the west, and indeed little enough support even in the town. Myself and a number of other thegns brought men to fight with King William; also Queen Edith used her position and influence on the king.”

  “The king seems concerned about the defection of the Aetheling,” said Ivo Taillebois, who held land in the mid-north. “That’s not surprising considering William treated him so well. He’s not only confirmed him in his previous extensive lands, but also gave him new lands and honours. It seems that it’s going to make the king more suspicious of the English in the future and may be why he’s started to clip the wings of the earl of Mercia.”

  “As you said it’s probably not surprising, but also probably not helpful,” said Godric. “We all saw Edwin’s face and that of his brother Morcar. I’d be surprised if we’ve heard the last of those changes. It’s a cycle- the more the English show their discontent, the more caution William shows and the more he favours you Normans. That just makes the English even more discontented, and William reacts again.”

  “I wouldn’t trust those bastards from the north myself,” growled Eadnoth, like a true Southerner. “Tostig convinced Hardrada and his Norwegians to invade. Then Edwin and Morcar didn’t march south to support Harold at Hastings. Those events together meant that Harold lost at Hastings. If the Northumbrians and Mercians had shown loyalty, William would still be a duke sitting in Rouen Castle. Now, if they show him the same lack of loyalty… well, the king doesn’t strike me as being a very forgiving man and I would expect that the Northerners will suffer his wrath.”

  “As will we Southerners,” said Aetheldred. “We’ve already had enough problems in Kent caused by Odo. The English still hold most of the official positions in the royal administration. The church is still largely controlled by men of English birth and those Frenchmen who are of the clergy here in England were largely appointed by King Edward, not William. We have three sheriffs in this room, two English and one Norman, which is about the average. Most of us middle-level thegns, and those geburs who hold and work the land, are largely unaffected. A significant uprising, or a long period of disturbance and lawlessness, can see all that swept away. We’ve been invaded many times before and accommodated our conquerors, eventually ending up once again in control of our own destiny.”

  “So lie back and enjoy being raped?” asked Anne.

  Godric winced at the imagery and replied, “Not enjoy, but endure. A rape is a transitory matter. Afterwards one may be emotionally or physically scarred, but life can go on more or less as before.”

  “But if you struggle too much the rapist may decide to stick a knife in your ribs in response to your biting his hand or kicking him,” agreed Roger Bigod.

  “Queen Edith agrees,” added Alan.

  “A very, very sensible woman,” commented Eadnoth with several slow nods. “If resistance was possible she’d be in the front rank carrying the flag of Wessex. It’s not, and she recognises that fact and does what she can to help her countrymen. Her intervention at Exeter was essential in avoiding wholesale bloodshed- after all, the town belongs to her.”

  The conversation drifted away from politics as the food arrived, delivered to the table on large wooden platters from which the men helped themselves, placing their food onto their bread trenchers, cutting with the knives from their belts and using their fingers, or where necessary a carved spoon, to eat. Alan shared a trencher with Anne and cut her food for her so she could maintain her air of decorum and cleanliness, which is hard to do if the sleeves of your dress are soaked to the elbows with the juices of food or gravy. The chosen fare was relatively plain, as the men were all experienced soldiers rather than courtiers
. As it was a Thursday they could eat boiled or roast meats of beef, swine and lamb; herbed grilled capon with yellow pepper sauce; several dishes with exotic spices for the more adventurous; pork rissoles with green garlic sauce; Daguenet peas with ginger, currents and honey; braised parsnip with onions, cheese and spices and Makke beans with onions in red wine. Dessert was candied orange, fresh apple pie with cream and gingerbread. Loaves of fresh wheaten bread were placed on the table with pots of freshly churned butter, the guests helped themselves by cutting off hunks with their knives.

  The servants kept bringing the drinks and the men kept emptying the jugs. By the time dessert had been finished the jokes and stories had become ribald, and Anne rose, bidding their guests good evening, and motioned for Aidith the serving-maid to follow her, leaving the further care of the guests to Aidith’s father the butler Aitkin. Although the men were married, and given their ages probably more or less happily, a buxom wench serving at table was likely to end up with her bottom pinched black and blue.

  Darkness fell a little after half past seven that evening and the men chatted amiably on, telling taller and taller stories as the cups of wine and pints of ale disappeared. Finally, at about ten the guests called it a night, all deciding that they would leave at the same time so that they only had to pay one bribe to the guards at Newgate to get back into the city as the gates had closed at dusk. The going rate was a silver penny, but if they left individually the guard captain would receive a shilling in total. Like all the well-to-do who had seen hard times, they didn’t want to waste money.

  Alan knocked on the Solar door. “They’ve gone,” he advised. “Would you care to come out?”

  “A good meeting?” asked Anne, as Alan took her into his grasp and started to hum a tune, after a moment adding the words as they began to dance in the Hall, ignoring the servants clearing up. Once the rhythm was established Alan replied, “Yes, a good opportunity to talk and establish relations between people of different cultures. You take the lead, you’re better at it and I’ve had a few cups.”

  Anne sang quietly, just for the two of them, as they moved together around the open floor, before they proceeded hand in hand up the stairs to the bedroom.

  On Saturday 10th May the spy Gareth called to see them in the late afternoon, slipping in quietly and presenting himself unannounced in the Hall. Alan made a mental note to chastise Ranulf, the man in charge of the guard.

  “God Hael, m’lord and m’lady!” Gareth said in his gravelly voice as he lowered himself onto a bench at Alan’s waved invitation.

  “What information do you have for us, Gareth Haroldson?” asked Anne.

  “Bishop William, Engelric and Ralph the Staller appear not to be actively plotting against you at the moment. However, Earl Ralph is looking to further his control of East Anglia. Men in Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex who have held freely in the past are being pressed to hold under him and are being offered his ‘protection’ in return. A few who have declined have had problems with ‘robbers’ raiding their villages. I’m aware that he dislikes the influence you have in Tendring and I think that you can expect some action on his part at some stage in the not too distant future. I’ll keep a close eye on him and his actions on your behalf.

  “The main news relates not so much to your immediate interests, as it is high politics. You know, of course, that King William has taken steps to reduce the earl of Mercia’s influence and to increase his own control of that region, and that Edwin and Morcar are unhappy about that. Also that the Aetheling and a number of nobles fled to Scotland last month, and that it’s not a long distance from Scotland to Northumbria. The three Northern earls, Edwin, Morcar and Gospatric, met with some of the Aetheling’s agents- and also those of Bleddyn of Wales and the Danish King Swein Estrithson. The word I hear is that they are talking about inviting the Danes to invade.”

  “In which case we shouldn’t have too much to worry about,” said Alan as an aside to Anne. “Swein hasn’t won a battle yet! He kept losing to Harold Hardrada and his Norwegians. His claim to the throne is that his uncle was Cnut, who seized the English crown by invasion.”

  “You’ve said a number of times that the English should accept the Norman conquest because they wouldn’t be able to win in a battle against the Normans,” said Anne thoughtfully.

  “That’s true. I’ve said it oft enough that I don’t need to go through the reasons again, but the main fact is that none of the available English leaders can beat William.”

  Anne replied, “I wouldn’t be as dismissive about their chances as you are. What if either Edgar the Aetheling or Earl Waltheof grew a spine? Yes, they’re both young, but William was even younger when he started his fight to assert control of Normandy.” Before Alan could interject Anne waved him to keep silent with a small movement of her hand. “I know that you’ll reply that Edgar still couldn’t beat William. But what if William wasn’t there? What if he dies? His sons Robert, Richard and William are all around ten to twelve years of age.

  “Which son would rule which lands? Who would act as regent? Matilda? FitzOsbern and Odo? Look what a bad job those two have done running England for only six months while William has been away! Robert of Eu and Robert of Mortain would be too old. The French and the Angevins would be lining up to attack Normandy, and the Danes and Norwegians to attack England. I’d suggest that the Norman control of England could be wrested away with one hunting ‘accident’ or one cup of poisoned wine, because without William the Norman barons would all go back to squabbling and fighting amongst themselves! King William is the mortar that binds the Normans together. Remove the mortar and the building collapses.”

  Alan frowned in deep thought before nodding. “You’re right. Both myself and the other Normans have always thought as if he’ll always be there. Even apart from assassination, there’s always the vagaries of life; a storm at sea or a fall from a horse. I’ll have to stop being so arrogant and presumptuous.”

  “Those are traits that you share with many others, my dear. And not all of them are Normans,” said Anne patting his arm.

  The next day was Pentecost, the 11th May and by co-incidence a Sunday. It was also the day of Matilda’s coronation. At Westminster Morning Mass was said by Archbishop Stigand at Terce. The prelate entered dressed in his richly coloured and decorated vestments and moved towards the altar at the head of the procession of senior clerics, behind an acolyte swinging a golden censor creating a cloud of incense. A second acolyte carried a heavily illuminated bible on a red cushion and a third carried a large cross of gold.

  Ealdred, the Archbishop of York, and a plethora of other bishops in their mitered hats followed in a long line behind the cross and moved to a line of chairs placed at one side of the Sanctuary. The Nave of the huge stone church was filled to capacity with nobles and their retainers, and the rear of the Nave was a packed mass of ordinary citizens. The common folk didn’t usually attend High Mass at the abbey, but they had been encouraged to come and see their new queen.

  Apart from the king and his queen to be, the congregation was standing as no chairs or pews were provided. The choir was in elaborately-carved wooden stands on each side of the Nave located just before the Sanctuary and just beyond the two Transepts. In the Sanctuary the altar rail glistened with gilding and the large altar, covered in a white cloth embroidered with gold, was ablaze with light from many candles in golden candlesticks. Beautifully carved and exquisitely painted statues of Jesus, the saints, Mary and the Infant Jesus were in their places in the fore-part of the Nave, the Transepts, Choir, Ambulatories and the Sanctuary. Over the altar towered a massive figurine of Christ Crucified, made of wood and gesso.

  Despite the light streaming through the stained glass windows, illuminating the religious scenes depicted on the windows, the interior of the abbey remained dimly lit. Alan mused that there must be hardly a see or abbey in England whose bishop or abbot had stayed at home, and there were also substantial numbers of Norman clergy in attendance. The English includ
ed both archbishops, and most of the seventeen bishops- Durham, Winchester, London, Wells, Cambridge and many more, including all four of the monastic sees of Christ Church Canterbury, Old Minster Winchester, Worcester and Sherborne. The Normans included Geoffrey of Coutances and the bishops of Caen, Rouen, Ely and Pointiers. Also present, of course, was Odo of Bayeux, the king’s half-brother. There were too many abbots and abbesses, priors and prioresses to conveniently count.

  The Benedictine monks in the choir chanted alternately through the antiphon while the congregation was sprinkled with lustral water. Then followed the Acts of Penitence, the Kyrie (sung in Greek), Gloria, the Liturgy, and so through the familiar steps of the service. The whole service was spoken or sung in Latin or Greek, who caused no difficulty for the Normans, due to their familiarity with the service even if they didn’t understand the words, or the more educated of the English. A regiment of priests attended to distribution of the host at seven altars, three altars in each transept and at the high altar. The high altar was used by the clergy and the assembled nobles, and the side-altars by the hoi polloi.

  Alan could not help but mentally compare this theatrical performance with the simple ceremonies that would be taking place, conducted in English, at this moment in the manor churches at Thorrington and Staunton.

  Finally, after the Dismissal, the candles on the altars were extinguished and the archbishop and his deans and acolytes departed in procession. The remainder of the clergy and the congregation stayed in their places awaiting Stigand’s return and the coronation. Two ornate chairs were placed before the high altar, slightly to one side.