make a lot of money if we invested the spare cash in extra ships and more merchandise- but we can’t spend all the money we’re making now, so why bother? I don’t think either of us want to build up a merchant empire.”
“Certainly not me,” replied Alan. “I just don’t understand it or have the gift of making it work, unlike you and Jacob- nor frankly do I have the interest. Nobles or warriors aren’t supposed to engage in trade. We’re earning more money than we can spend and that’s more than enough.”
“We could hold parties and serve the guests food covered in gild,” said Anne mischievously, knowing Alan’s hatred of ostentation. Alan snorted in reply.
“What do you think of the idea of endowing a hospital, or perhaps a lazar house at Colchester?” asked Alan. “I believe that the abbeys and priories receive sufficient patronage and that doing something practical for people in need may be a suitable use for surplus funds. Charity is encouraged by God.”
“Not a lazar house,” replied Anne. “Leprosy and other similar infectious diseases, plagues and poxes and the like, are God’s punishment on those people who have somehow offended him. I wouldn’t see it as being fit to endow such an institution. Perhaps establishing and maintaining an orphanage would be a suitably pious gift.”
Alan inclined his head to acknowledge his wife’s words but not to indicate agreement. After a moment’s pause he continued the previous conversation with Jacob. “Exactly where are these four manors that Anne is just about to acquire?” he asked.
Jacob had to refer to his notes as he’d memorized the financial information, but not the geographical. After a pause he replied, “Ah… In Essex there is Markshall near Halstead on the Colne in Hinkford Hundred, owned by Gothmund; Norton in Ongar Hundred near Chelmsford, owned by Godhild of Greensted; Claret Hall in Hinkford Hundred, owned by Leodmer the priest. Bushley in Danish Hundred in Hertfordshire, owned by Leofwin- who is a substantial landholder with many manors and should be able to pay.”
Alan nodded and said, “At least they’re all in areas that should be relatively safe from attack. The manor at Norton should be useful, as we usually break our journey to London at Chelmsford and we can stay there overnight. None of the manors are more than a day’s ride away. I’ll have a look at them in the next few weeks, on behalf of their new owner,” he concluded with a smile.
Next day Alan rode the short distance east to the horse stud at Great Bentley to inspect the facilities and check on progress. While Alan had been away in the west the long-awaited horse trainer, named William, had arrived from Amiens with a young assistant named Ivo. Alan wanted to see how the training of the horses to fight in battle was progressing.
Great Bentley was a little less than two miles from Thorrington and so Alan and Osmund arrived after a journey of just a few minutes. Great Bentley was a wealthy village and while it had just three hides of land under cultivation it supported nine plough teams. It had extensive woodland able to provide forage for hundreds of pigs and a salt-house owned by Alan, although no mill- the villagers used Alan’s mill at Thorrington. Most importantly from Alan’s view, it had extensive meadowland and pasture. Cows and sheep can be supported by grazing on the grasses on the wasteland. Horses are more delicate, requiring better grazing and supplementary feed. Alan had given most of the village and its cropping fields to the thegn Swein in
The stud was located near the stream to the west of the village, closest to Thorrington. As Alan approached he was delighted to see in the fenced-off pasture over two dozen mares with foals at heel, nursing or gamboling about on their long legs. In a larger field were some twenty or so of the Welsh mountain ponies. These, together with others at the other manors, were being retained to provide the means for his warriors to move swiftly. Alan knew that these hardy beasts would need little in the way of facilities or attention.
In the last few months a collection of buildings had been constructed to create the horse establishment. Two cottages, forty stalls, a hay-barn, a small granary for horse-feed, sheds for storage of tack and equipment and a large fenced training enclosure with sand spread thick on the ground. In the enclosure a man was working a horse at longeing with the long-rein, with the horse trotting in a circle and learning to answer commands. In a clear but unfenced area another young horse was being halter-broken, led back and forth by a man holding the halter reins.
Workers, men and women, hurried purposefully as they mucked out stalls, refilled water-troughs, groomed horses, collected droppings and performed the multitude of the other tasks in a stable. A farrier was checking the hooves of a yearling, picking out dirt and stones and trimming one of the fore hooves. Two men, one of them Brunloc, were working ‘backing’ a yearling, one holding the reins as the other quietly flipped a blanket on and off the back of the horse, which was sidling and tossing its head, snorting and whickering. A group of a dozen riders were just returning from an exercise ride, their horses sweaty and blowing.
After dismounting and handing the reins of their mounts to a groom, who then led the horses away, Alan and Osmund walked over to the training enclosure and leaned against the wooden railing as they watched William gently and with patience work the horse, a yearling mare, with voice and arm movements. Whilst he held a long whip, it was not used. After about fifteen minutes Brunloc came over and leaned against the fence next to Alan.
“How good is he?” asked Alan.
Brunloc nodded and said, “He’s good, and so is Ivo. What he’s doing at the moment myself and half a dozen of the men here and at Ramsey could do, working with yearlings and taking them through to being broken for riding at two years of age. You work with each horse every day to get them used to people and instill the basics for building on later. They’re intelligent creatures and very inquisitive. We have to overcome their fears and their automatic ‘flight’ response to run from anything they’re unfamiliar with. That involves making us humans the leader of the herd, somebody to be trusted and followed. That in itself, including breaking them for riding, takes nigh on two years.
“William spends most of his time training the older horses for battle, able to be controlled without using reins and not be frightened of noise or other distractions. He’s training them to use the ‘fight’ part of their ‘fight or flight’ instincts. He started about a month ago and is working with the older horses you bought as mounts for the Wolves. The first batch is more or less finished. Eight are back in the stables at Thorrington, two have been held back for further training and he’s just started on the second batch of ten. It’ll take him at least six months to complete the training of the mature cavalry horses you already have. Between here and Ramsey we have nearly seventy foals born in the last few months, over thirty weanlings from last year and about twenty yearlings. There’s plenty of work for all of us.”
Alan nodded his understanding and asked, “And how did Odin perform?”
“I wish I had his vigour! He can rut for hour after hour! He covered thirty of our best mares. Based on the foals born this season that he sired last season, your desire for big strong beasts with strength, stamina and speed will be more than met. But since the rutting season is over, may I suggest you take him away? He’s a real handful to control. William may be used to that type of horse, but he’s too smart and willful for me!”
Shortly afterwards William of Amiens finished his work with the horse he had been training and walked over to greet the young master he had not yet seen. Reasonably elderly at about thirty-five, he answered Alan’s questions in a respectful but not subservient manner. He described his past experience and his training philosophies, and admitted that he had made the journey to Essex in response to the large stipend offered, twice what his previous employer had paid.
After twenty minutes or so of discussion Alan nodded and waved William towards the chestnut yearling colt that was being held on a halter by a stable lad. The lad had been standing waiting patiently, not so the horse which had been tossing its head restlessly for several minutes.
Alan had been invited by Edward to hunt in the thick woods near the thegn’s manor at Alresford, and had taken with him his page Leof and huscarle Brand, who was enjoying his new status as landowner. Alan had invited Brand and Leof as part of their education process. Edward had also invited Alfward of Tendring and Aelfric of Old Hall, making a hunting party of twenty-two, divided into two groups, with the beaters supplied by Edward. The beaters had been sent deep into the forest before dawn and could now be heard shouting and ringing bells as they advanced through the forest, driving the game towards the waiting hunters. Edward had cheated slightly by erecting some short sections of permanent deer-fencing in what was one of his favourite hunting patches, but not cheated to the extent of erecting Hides. The deer-fencing would restrict and channel the areas through which the game could run.
