completed, with further work to strengthen their defences underway.
As a man who had spent most of his life in small country villages, with only a few brief years at Rouen and then Paris, and with his time in the former largely spent in the isolation of the Benedictine monastery, Alan was both uncomfortable and excited by being in London. Uncomfortable because he hated the crowding, the streets teeming with people bustling to and fro and the filth from discarded refuse and offensive industries such as tanning and dying. Excited because something was always happening and every stroll through the streets was a new adventure- if you survived it, particularly after dark.
The city proper, the area within the walls, was less than two-thirds of a mile wide along the river by a third of a mile deep from the river to the swamp and farms outside the walls to the north. Large areas of habitation outside the walls straggled along the roads from Westminster to the west and Mile End and Oldford to the east.
Southwark, on the south side of the river, was in Surrey and outside the jurisdiction of the officials in London, with the inevitable result that the buildings were largely ramshackle and there were large numbers of officially permitted brothels called ‘stews’.
The city itself, although crowded, was not in all parts excessively crammed and there were some open areas, particularly close to the Chepe market. There were other areas where land was vacant not by design but by accident as a result of fire. Almost all the buildings in and near the city were of wooden construction and most were thatched. With so many buildings so close together a spilled oil lamp or an unattended fire, whether it be a cooking fire, bread oven or forge, could get out of hand in moments and wreak havoc.
Most of the houses, in some places crammed closely together, were of two, three and sometimes four storeys in height. Many were filthy tenements into which the poor were packed one family to a room with sometimes ten people with barely space to spread a shared straw palliasse on the floor.
On his previous visit Alan had found the people themselves were also different. They were less deferential and more confident and assertive, almost cocky, even in their dealings with customers. Alan, who didn’t see himself as having an over-inflated self-opinion, frankly found it annoying to have a filthy young lad dressed in rags approach him in the streets to try to sell pies or other items and address him in a cheeky manner, almost as an equal. The ‘ladies of the night’ were equally bold in their marketing efforts, even during the day- and even when Alan was accompanied by Anne.
The streets were thronged with people hurrying to and fro. Costermongers selling from their carts. Stall- holders whose stalls blocked the narrow walkways on each side of the streets, causing pedestrians to have to walk on the roadway. In many places stalls were placed opposite each other, creating bottle-necks through which the pedestrians and traffic struggled. Shop owners, many with open-fronted shops and with trestle tables set up to display their wares, were seeking custom but keeping a close eye to ensure that prospective customers or passers-by didn’t purloin their goods. Baker-boys carried trays of pies, breads and sweetmeats on trays supported by a leather strap around their neck. There were touts for all sorts of businesses from taverns to tailors, barbers to ribbon-merchants, with a cacophony of voices as they all called attention to themselves and their goods or services.
Not only the ears and eyes were assaulted, so also was the nose. Sometimes the smells were pleasant, such as when passing a bakery, stalls selling cooked meats or in the Vintry. Most often the smells were offensive, such as on passing the premises of tanners, dyers or fullers, where vats of urine and chemicals gave off rank odours and passers-by paused to make a contribution of urine into pots placed by the footpath; the Fish Market and the Shambles with their stench of spoiled meat, blood and entrails and with rats, cats, curs and crows picking at the noisome heaps; rotten vegetables at the Vegetable Market in Chepe; and the ever-present excrement of people and animals that littered the streets, pot-fulls of night-soil being hurled from upper windows and often striking and miring those walking below.
They finally took rooms at the ‘Fox and Goose’ Inn in Watling Street, just near St Peter’s Church and close to St Paul’s Cathedral in the west of the city. The inn appeared well kept from the outside and Anne was satisfied as to its suitability after a brief inspection. The cathedral bells were ringing Vespers in the evening when Alan had finished his negotiations with the innkeeper to take eight rooms for 28 people, including meals, for a penny per person per a night. He then gave Leof a note to deliver to the St Paul’s Cathedral Minster office, with strict instructions to wait for a reply- and that when he returned he was to take a circuitous route through crowds and alleys to ensure he wasn’t followed. Alan gave him a penny, the first money Leof had ever owned.
Alan’s note was addressed to Bishop William of London, announced his arrival and indicated his availability for the following day, Friday. It was the first time that he had used his new seal-ring given to him by Anne.
As there were still two hours to sunset, Alan and Osmund, accompanied by four huscarles, rode the short distance along the Strand to the Westminster Palace to see if King’s Chancellor Regenbald was in residence. By good fortune he was, and when Alan and Osmund walked into his office the aged prelate rose to clasp forearms before inviting his guests to sit.
Alan had met Regenbald both at the royal coronation and in his subsequent discussions with the king and had a true liking for the old man, together with an appreciation for his perceptiveness, intelligence and quick wit. The cleric had been in charge of Edward’s writing office until appointed by William as Chancellor immediately following the latter’s coronation.
On handing over the bag of rolls of depositions Alan explained the problems being experienced with the Heriot charges in East Anglia in particular and his understanding that the problem was more wide-spread. Osmund gave a quick precis of each of the depositions that they had received from both Suffolk and Essex, and which ones had been referred to the sheriffs for investigation, referring to a summary list that he had drawn up.
Sitting with one leg up on a foot-stool Regenbald apologised for the bout of gout he was presently suffering, which was why he was staying in his chambers in the palace instead of riding home each night. “That and some current domestic discord,” he said pulling a wry face, a reference to the fact that like many English priests Regenbald was married. “Now, this lot is not going to make you any friends here at court at all, and won’t help your future prospects. Even the king is likely to be unhappy that you have raked up this muck. Odo and fitzOsbern are likely to be livid, as it reflects badly on their administration in the absence of the king. Firstly, are you sure you should be presenting them to me and not to the Lords Regent?”
“I’m quite happy handling things this way. Odo of Bayeux is the last person I would want to look at these pleadings. You are the King’s Secretary, the man who handles his correspondence. I want the king to have a look at this correspondence and not just have it quietly buried and forgotten. I expect that by the time the king returns most, if not all, of these complaints will have been favourably resolved by Earl Ralph, Bishop William and Engelric and the blame placed on over-zealous or corrupt servants and minor officials. You and I both know that in fact theft, corruption and extortion are currently running rampant in the kingdom, with the co-Lord Regent Odo of Bayeux being amongst the worst offenders- which in part is why he’s having so much dissent and protest in his own earldom of Kent. The English don’t like people abusing their office at the people’s expense. Some minor corruption is expected, but not blatant robbery and extortion.”
“And what do you hope to obtain?” asked Regenbald thoughtfully, looking over steepled fingers.
“Justice for these specific individuals whose legal rights have been abused. Hopefully a more temperate use of powers and less abuse of powers by the appointed officials. King William took an oath at his coronation that the laws of Edward would be upheld. At the moment it is as if a pack of wolves, Norman and English, are ravaging the country, the middle-thegns, poorer thegns and freemen, for their own benefit. If King William orders taxes are to be levied that is one thing. Private theft and extortion are another matter. The sheriffs need to be put on notice that they are expected to act and not either ignore or participate in financially ruining thousands of Englishmen,” replied Alan.
“Admirable sentiments, if perhaps overly virtuous,” rejoined Regenbald. “I actually meant what do you hope to obtain for yourself?”
Alan looked at him in blank incomprehension for a moment before replying, “Oh, I’m sorry! Of course you’re used to dealing with courtiers who only look to further their own benefit. The short answer is ‘nothing’. King William is likely to be annoyed at me for wasting his time and pointing out his poor choice of appointed officials. He may relish the opportunity to let those officials know that they are under scrutiny and perhaps punish one or two.
“Earl Ralph, the earl of East Anglia where I hold my own lands, will no doubt do whatever he can to make my life and that of my friends as difficult as possible. I don’t expect much trouble from Bishop William or Engelric as I can cause them more trouble than they can cause me. I hold my lands as tenant-in-chief from the king himself. I’m subservient to only one man under God, and I view this as a matter that God has given me to do as I must. William
