“It’s a pity I’m honest. I could have made a fortune here in a couple of years, just like Kendrick has.”
As Osmund finished his meal and, with a bow to his lord, took his leave, Alan commented to Anne, “Thank you for the recommendation. It looks as if I’m a long way towards rectifying that problem.” He paused and then continued, “Talking about problems, you probably have one that you don’t recognise yourself. When Aelfric took the lands you now hold, did he rent in laen for one lifetime, or three? His, his wife’s and his heirs? I understand that he was single at the time and it is most probable that he paid rent for his own lifetime. If so, you have a problem. I’d strongly urge you to find and read the land charter when you get home.”
“Why would that be a problem? Surely they’d not turn a widow out of her lands when she still pays her taxes each Quarter Day?” asked Anne in perplexity.
Alan laughed. “You don’t know anything about landlords, Norman or English,” he rejoined. “If it was rented for his lifetime, you have nothing and the land will be escheated at any time. Geoffrey de Mandeville was made overlord of most of Essex, including your lands. Even if it was still in the hands of Harold Godwinson you would still be ejected, leaving only with your dower. That’s what the English law says, not the Norman. Geoffrey de Mandeville has many knights and others for whom he must provide lands. He’ll be after every opportunity to seize lands to give to his retainers. Even if it was rented for three lives, as there is no heir, you can expect to be forced to marry a man of Sir Geoffrey’s choice, a man he has some obligation towards, with no say yourself. The same thing happened in Cnut’s day. The widows of those his army slew were forced to marry his retainers. One can look to the past to see the future. I suggest you find yourself a husband as soon as possible, or start sewing a nun’s habit. To make matters worse for you, not only are you a woman, you’re English and your husband died in the fighting last year. All English are required to pay a Heriot to retain their lands. Even the church has to pay to be confirmed in its very substantial holdings. Most importantly, the land of those who died fighting against King William is forfeit. While your husband died fighting at Stamford Bridge, I’d doubt that those who administer the forfeiture will make much distinction about the lands of those who fell at Fulford Gate, Stamford Bridge or at Hastings. William wants land to give to his friends as reward for past services, such as me.”
Anne looked appalled. “That is incredible!” she said. “It must be illegal”.
Alan shook his head with seriousness. “Not illegal. Apart from perhaps the forfeiture, it’s entirely according to the ancient laws of England- and the same would happen in Normandy. As to the forfeiture, William dates his reign from the day King Edward died and sees any who fought against him as being traitors who are liable to forfeiture of their land. Those who lived are being allowed to buy their land back. Few of the widows and heirs of those who died are being given that choice. Illegal, no. Immoral, yes. Men in positions of power are rarely concerned with morality, particularly if they have a financial interest in the result. Ask Osmund for his opinion and have a look at the law books in the Solar.”
“This is impossible! How am I supposed to summon a suitor out of the air?” demanded Anne.
“You are a very eligible widow. Young, beautiful and with wealthy lands. Your only defect, from most men’s point of view, is your high intellect! They want ornaments, not partners. Matilda, William’s wife, is the daughter of the Count of Flanders, brought him a huge dowry and a strong political ally. By all reports she’s a very intelligent woman, but she has played little formal part in Normandy’s affairs until the last few months, when William has been busy in England. As to suitors, I would like to be the first in line for consideration, but you may have many other paramours in the background.”
Anne gave him a close look, part suspicious and part speculative. “I’ll speak to Osmund and look at my land charter. If it was for three lifetimes, nobody can force me marry! And as for you, with the events of the last few months I’m hardly likely to choose to marry a Norman!”
“I admire your spirit, but believe me you can and will be forced to marry whether you wish or not,” said Alan. “Still, if the time comes, please give me some consideration. Now, to change the topic, your crutches should be arriving any time. Would you like to come and see my fort?” he asked with obvious enthusiasm. Anne agreed with a ready smile.
The crutches had arrived an hour later. They were well constructed, the correct height and padded under the arms. After an exploratory trial, Anne pronounced herself ready to leave. As the fort was on a slight rise of ground several hundred yards away Alan still had Anne carried to the site.
“I haven’t bothered with a motte, as it’s simply not worth the trouble,” explained Alan. “Our main problem here is likely to be either Danish raiders, who would want to be in and out quickly and not bother with a prolonged siege, or an armed uprising of local thegns and peasants. Both of which this will cater for perfectly. We’re not on the route between any large towns, so no armies are going to come this way. If I’m stupid enough to have my own thegns and peasants attacking me I deserve to be killed in my bed! You’ll have noticed that I use almost exclusively local Englishmen for my troops. If there is any insurrection they are already in my Hall and ready to cut my throat!”
During the hard freeze of winter the labourers had been set to cutting wooden stakes for the palisade for the bailey. The ditch around the bailey had now been dug, six feet deep and the spoil piled on the defensive side, with the palisade put in place above, giving a barrier eighteen feet high. The barns, armoury, stables and the two-storey barracks had been erected. All were timber or wattle-and-daub buildings with wooden shingles for roofing, rather than thatching.
The gate and towers still required completion. The Hall, kitchen, latrines and bath-house were still in the early stages of construction, with little more done than to dig out the foundations and a connecting series of small narrow trenches. A well had been dug and lined with stone, with some six feet of water at the bottom. “The bailey is about one acre in size,” explained Alan. “There will be eight small towers, about ten feet higher than the palisade. You can see the position of the foundations. Each will provide a position for a dozen archers and each will have a ballista.”
“A what?” interjected Anne.
“A ballista. Sort of like a giant crossbow firing an arrow as large as a spear to a range of 500 paces or so. I’ll also have the two onagers in the bailey, so I can throw rocks at attackers for about the same distance,” replied Alan. Anne blinked in surprise. She’d never even heard of these engines of war. “The barracks has two storeys, with room for fifty- thirty downstairs and twenty upstairs. That’s completed, so let’s go have a look,” continued Alan.
Anne hobbled over and looked inside the ground floor. The barracks was a long thin room, similar in size to a traditional long-house. It was two-thirds occupied by a series of triple bunk beds, thirty beds in all. The remaining third appeared to have been left for eating and general use, although this was currently unfurnished. “The upstairs is similar but, but narrower because of the pitch of the roof,” said Alan.
“It looks like a tight squeeze for the men. Is there any reason you painted the building yellow?”
Alan shrugged. “The men each have their own bed, although the three-high bunks may be less comfortable than could be possible- but that is better than if they were sleeping with the servants on the floor in the Hall. They each have several wall-pegs to hang clothing and a small chest in which to put their personal items-which is more than most men-at-arms or servants could expect. As to the colour, the walls are made of wattle and daub, so it has to be lime-washed to make it weather-proof. I happened to have a sack of yellow ochre available and thought that it would make a change from the usual lime white. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
They went back out into the bailey. “There’s stabling for forty horses. Two barns, a granary and an armoury- all empty at the moment. See that small hill over there? It has a spring, and I’m getting the water piped over here in lead pipes to fill these two water cisterns, and- I really like this- the overflow will go into the latrines and wash them clean. I got the idea on some plans I once saw about a Roman fort. The latrine has two sections, one for men and one for women, each with a four-holed seat. The water washes underneath and takes the waste away and there will be sponges on sticks just like the Romans used to use, that also get washed clean by the running water in that basin. The spring water will also flow into the troughs in the stables- it does that before it goes to the latrines. Over here will be the kitchen. The heat from the fire will go through this trench to warm the water in the bathing room and the laundry next door. Err… I’m having some trouble getting the design right for that, but I’ve nearly got it! Here is my workshop where I spend my spare time making ‘men’s toys’ which will most likely prove useful.
“Now for the Hall! The main Hall will be thirty paces by ten, stone-built on the lower storey and half-timber on the upper storey, paved with slate downstairs. There are three large rooms at the end for a Solar, a private Retiring Room and an office. Upstairs over those rooms will be three bedchambers. There’s another wing built on at the side with ten smaller bedchambers for functionaries, guests and so on.” Alan sighed before continuing, “I’m
