“Well, it seems straightforward enough,” commented Leofstan. “I move that the four men are guilty of kidnapping, rape, theft and brigandage. All in favour? Well that was easy. Alan, can you arrange the tree, rope and boxes? Now as to the woman Aedilhild, that’s more difficult. She’s probably not, strictly speaking, guilty of any offence as she has the defence of being under the control of her man, although they were not married. However, I don’t think she should go unpunished. What do you think, Brictmer and Edwold?”
Brictmer replied, “I agree. She did participate of her own free will, even if she has a legal defence to the more serious charges. I suggest that she be convicted of assault of the woman Eab? and be ordered to pay
The others agreed and they walked back out into the Old Hall, where Leofstan announced the judgment, to the delight of the assembled onlookers, who were looking forward to the entertainment of the hanging.
The official party removed themselves to the New Hall, where they wined and dined in style, and at mid- afternoon the four bandits were hung from the gallows-tree. Hemp ropes were placed about their necks. Each stood on a large box. As a matter of courtesy to the condemned Alan had arranged for each to have their own box on which to stand, so all could be kicked away at the same time and the condemned men swing and twitch together. The villagers had granted themselves a half-holiday to watch the spectacle and were disappointed with Alan’s decision. They preferred to watch the gallows-bait hanging and kicking one by one as they gasped out their lives, and to have the executions carried out in succession rather than together. Having simultaneous hangings made it difficult to keep track of the bets as to how long the victims would each take to die. The villagers sat on the village green, chatting and eating the food and drink that they had brought, laughing and exclaiming as the convicted men twitched and writhed at the end of their ropes.
As the last body was cut down from the tree and bundled with the others to be thrown into a common grave outside the consecrated land of the church graveyard, Alan was unmoved. These men had already wreaked far worse fates on others and would have again done so in the future in the land under his jurisdiction.
Back at the New Hall as they sat at table and ate and supped Alan chatted with the thegns who had attended at the trial. He and Anne then met with Linn and Eab? in the office-room situated off the Hall. Both youths were now clean and dressed in second-hand clothing which Faran had located. Alan noticed with a smile the way that Eab? sat close to Linn and that he put his arm around her shoulders. Eab? was offered a safe return to her own village, which she declined, and both were offered places as servants at the Hall, which they accepted happily.
Satisfied with the results of the last few days Alan and Anne retired to their bedchamber for some well- deserved rest.
Alan was sitting in his office at New Hall Thorrington, looking through the figures for the current Quarter income, taxes and estate estimates provided by his clerk Osmund. It was late afternoon and his headache arose from trying to make sense of the information he had been considering and not from straining his eyes, as the room was well-lit with a large glass window near where he was sitting.
He looked up as his steward knocked on the door and entered.
Faran said, “Excuse me, my lord, but there is a messenger from Jacob the Jew who has ridden from London today. He’s very fatigued and I’ve sat him at the table in the Hall and provided him with food and drink before he falls over.
Alan nodded and instructed, “Fetch Lady Anne and we’ll see what the messenger says.”
Ten minutes later, with a jug of good Bordeaux wine and a platter of fresh bread, dried fruits and nuts and cheese on the table and his wife at his side Alan watched the messenger hurried to the table. He waved a hand at the provender on the table and the messenger was quick to place some food on a wooden plate and start to eat. Alan poured himself and his wife each a cup of wine.
“In your own time and when you are ready,” said Alan impatiently.
The messenger took the hint and stopped stuffing himself. “My lord and lady! Jacob the Jew sends news. He regretfully advises that he has been informed that your house in London has been foully attacked and your butler Aiken has been slain. He urges you to attend to resolve matters.”
A brief questioning ascertained that the London town-house had been robbed the day before and Aiken, who was in charge of that property, killed during the robbery. Aidith his daughter had contacted Anne’s business manager Jacob for assistance.
Alan looked at Anne as he gave instructions to Faran. “Arrange horses and the cart for dawn the day after tomorrow, with food and drink. Two maids for Anne. Ten mounted men-at-arms. I’ll take Osmund and Leof as usual.” Anne nodded her agreement. Alan was unhappy to be leaving at this time, with the Quarter Day of Michaelmas, when taxes and rents were to be received and paid, a little over a week away, but could see no other alternative.
They departed at first light on Tuesday the 23rd September 1068, with Alan wishing to make the 71 mile journey in one day. With 13 hours of daylight he expected to be able to achieve this despite the women, child and servants being in a light horse-drawn carriage, as the road was dry. Firstly they proceeded northwest to Colchester, via Alresford and Wivenhoe, crossed the wooden bridge over the Colne at the city, pausing to pay the pontage fee to the toll-collector as they did so, then turned south-west on the London Road, passing through Stanway and Kelvendon.
Each village had their wooden bridge over a river where again a fee had to be paid. They passed through several other small villages until they reached Chelmsford on the Rivers Can and Chelmer. They’d pushed hard and covered the thirty odd miles in time to eat an early midday meal at a tavern in Chelmsford, forgoing a visit to their nearby manor of Norton. From Chelmsford to London the condition of the road made travel slower, although the lack of recent rain meant that the roadway was firm. Until Chelmsford the road had passed through land that was moderately intensively used, with villages every few miles, each with their area of cultivated land and with an intervening section of waste before the land belonging to the next village. It was a warm and dry late autumn day and throughout the shire the harvest had been gathered. In the fields outside the villages along the way teams of oxen could be seen drawing mould-board ploughs through the soil to perform the autumn ploughing and the fruit trees were being pruned. Outside the granaries in each village men, women and children could be seen threshing and winnowing the harvested grain, with the stooks brought in from the fields standing in piles awaiting attention.
Shortly after leaving Chelmsford the road entered the immense Waltham Forest with its trees of birch, oak, beech and hornbeam. For much of the way the massive trees formed a canopy that provided a leafy roof over the dirt roadway, which was usually about five paces wide. Occasionally animals such as deer, muntjac, squirrels and hares could be seen bounding away from the approaching humans. A plethora of birds winged through the trees, those feeding near the road frequently bursting into flight as the riders approached.
Until they had entered the forest, on the more open sections of road fellow-travelers had been common, mostly on foot. These were villagers going about their business, itinerant tinkers and costermongers festooned with their wares or drawing a small hand-cart, merchants traveling with their goods in ox-drawn carts and the occasional mounted party of the more highly-born. On entering the forest this traffic had dwindled sharply and what travelers there were moved in groups of a dozen or more.
In the late afternoon when they left the confines of the forest near London the road became more crowded than ever and several of the men-at-arms rode ahead to force a swift passage. They entered the city at Aldgate and turned to the right down Cornhill. Alan always disliked this part of the journey- riding hot, tired and sweaty and having to force a passage through streets almost choked with foot-traffic and slow-moving wagons, with bottle- necks caused by stalls displaying a variety of merchandise. He hated the congestion, the stench and the filth of the city, and the frustration at moving at a snail’s-pace through the crowds. He was tempted to ride on ahead and leave the women and servants in the wagon to follow, but reined in his impatience as he knew that Anne would not appreciate being so treated.
The mound of the newly-built wooden royal castle by the river dominated the eastern part of the city to their left and had been visible for several miles as they had approached the walls. Once the travelers were on Cornhill the castle disappeared from view behind the wooden buildings crowded together along the narrow streets and alleys. Shops, factories, warehouses, merchant’s offices, craftsmen’s workshops, taverns, tenements, houses both poor and grand and churches stood shoulder to shoulder, most one or two storeys high but a few of the tenement buildings were as high as four storeys, some leaning drunkenly out over the street. There were occasional patches
