for several days from the victualler before the arrival of the army stripped the city bare of food and drink. They passed out through North Gate just as the vanguard of the army was approaching the city from the south.
They chose a location to camp about two miles north of the city and a quarter of a mile west of the road, hidden by a copse of trees. Despite the cold blustery wind the men soon had the tents erected, Alan instructing that only three be used. North of Lincoln the lie of the land showed some variation for the first time since leaving Peterborough. Between the valley of the Trent to the west and the low chalk hills of the Lincoln Wolds to the east, the land undulated and had patches of small trees and bushes instead of the almost flat and bare appearance of the land further south.
Alan instructed two of his four twelve-man squads to get what rest they could, posted four men as guards on the camp and divided the other two squads to produce four patrols each of two archers, four horsemen and one groom- the latter to act as a horse-holder. Alan placed the men so as to form a net, which included the camp and its guards, half a mile wide. Each group of men were carefully hidden and with their horses close at hand. Two groups covered the road itself, on opposite sides and with the second group being about 500 paces north of the first. Their instructions were to observe any person traveling south to the city, but to intercept and if necessary kill any person leaving the city and heading north towards York. Their task was made easier by the fact that the Roman Road ran due north as straight as an arrow, and the paucity of villages and farmhouses made it unlikely that any local farmers would be straggling home after a day in the city.
Shortly after four in the afternoon, about the time that Alan anticipated the main body of the king’s army would be marching into sight of the city, his men began to earn their pay for the day. In a period of about three- quarters of an hour four separate riders could be seen urging their horses north along the road. Three chose to ignore the call to halt and were shot out of their saddles by the archers, two having successfully avoided the first patrol and being shot down without further warning by the second. The remaining man was taken back to Lincoln with a two-man escort, for his guilt or innocence as a spy to be determined.
One man traveling south towards Lincoln was followed and later detained at North Gate because of his suspicious behaviour, not least his traveling alone.
Alan changed over the guards at eight in the evening, two hours after dark. Those coming on duty had taken the opportunity to have about four hours of sleep. This had not been difficult given their exhaustion after two days of solid riding- the difficulty had been in waking them up. As Alan had refused permission to light a campfire, they ate a cold meal of smoked ham, bread and cheese before they took the places of the other men, who quickly ate their own meal and then wrapped themselves in their blankets and immediately fell asleep. Six hours later they were roused and instructed to resume their posts. Alan accompanied them as they relieved the other guards, who reported that well after dark another two men had ridden north and been shot down without any warning. Alan had no argument with that as no local farmer would be riding a horse, let alone three or four hours after dark. After installing each patrol at their guard station Alan returned to the camp to snatch a further few hours of sleep.
Knowing that the city gates were closed until dawn, and certain that in the circumstances no bribe would be taken by the gate-guards to open early, Alan recalled his guards at about half-past four in the morning, an hour before first light. This time Alan allowed a cooking fire to be lit and after a hot breakfast the soldiers rode north. The grooms were left to dismantle the camp and to load the pack-horses after cooking the remainder of the supplies received the previous day. The dressed pig they had received was cut into joints which were boiled, as were the beans, peas and parsnips. Alan anticipated that they again wouldn’t be able to use a cooking fire that evening.
Alan slipped briefly into the city to confirm his orders and plans with fitzOsbern, noted the arrival of the expected reinforcements from Exeter and the south-west after their march along the Fosse Way, and returned to his men.
The Ermine Street Roman road ran due north, almost as straight as an arrow, passing just the village of Fillingham before taking a sharp turn to the west near Brigg to cross the River Trent and then proceeding north to the crossing of the River Aire. Then they rode further north to Selby, where the Benedictine monks were just breaking the ground for the foundations of a new abbey south of the River Ouse.
With the land as flat as a ruler and no cover for close on a mile Alan and his men approached the wooden bridge over the River Ouse with their horses at a canter. For the first time on their journey the bridge was guarded against them, with about fifteen men on duty. Stopping short of the bridge, Alan turned half of his force to face the village just to the south to repel the off-duty guards who were hurrying to join their compatriots. He then let his archers loose on the guards on the bridge. Barely a hundred paces away, those guards on the south bank were dead within thirty seconds, riddled with yard-long arrows from the longbowmen. Alan pushed horsemen across the bridge to chase and kill the half dozen guards who had been on the north side of the bridge and who had fled north for their lives. Within another two minutes the fleeing guards had lost both the race and their lives.
After that Alan placed thirty of his men north of the bridge, securing the crossing of the river while he waited for the vanguard of the army to arrive.
With this action the king’s army had secured the last natural obstacle before approaching York, now less than twelve miles distant, and apparently remained undetected.
When the vanguard arrived at about three in the afternoon, Alan handed off the village and bridge to them and moved a little north of the bridge. After his men advanced tiredly half a mile beyond the bridge a camp was set up and Alan allowed a fire to cook a meal. The landscape was still as flat as a pancake looking north towards the village of Ash Ridge. Again Alan set up a rotating system of rest as he set up a defensive umbrella, this time facing north. With the river and the bridge securely held behind them there was no need to watch for spies taking word north, only for scouts moving south.
The main body of the army arrived near dusk, nearly 4,000 strong, including the reinforcements from the south-west of England who had arrived at Lincoln the evening before.
As darkness was falling Alan arrived at the village inn that King William had requisitioned for his own use, and was surprised to see Queen Matilda and several maids heading upstairs as he arrived. Alan had not previously been aware that the tiny-statured queen was with the expedition and was surprised by her presence, despite her forceful personality and obvious attachment to her husband. For any expedition leader to take his wife on campaign was most unusual- particularly in this case, given the imminent expected birth of her next child, confirmed by her extremely gravid state and slow progress up the stairs as Alan looked on. Alan was sure that the king could do without this distraction on an important campaign, but Matilda was an unusually strong-willed woman.
Tired, hungry and annoyed, well aware that he stank like a polecat after three days on horseback and had not taken his boots off in that time, Alan dropped into a chair opposite the king and his half-brother Robert Count of Mortain and cousin William fitzOsbern, helping himself to a cup of wine without invitation. He flexed his shoulders and back to alleviate the aching as he leaned against the wooden wall and closed his eyes. He just wished he could do something about his thighs aching from three days in the saddle, but doubted he would find a hot bath and sympathetic massage here. Leof, Edric and Owain had accompanied him and stood just inside the door to the Hall, looking horrified at his presumptuous behaviour.
William gave a half-smile at this display of lese-majesty, noting the black marks of sleeplessness under the eyes and filthy disheveled appearance of the man before him, as he concluded his previous conversation.
“Sir Alan!” he said sharply, to rouse Alan from the doze he had quickly dropped into. As Alan’s eyes opened the king said, “Sorry to awaken you, but fitzOsbern says you have done particularly well since we left Peterborough, as indeed he had expected after your work together in Wales. We’re twelve miles south of York. Tomorrow I want your men to push ahead to cover our advance. FitzOsbern and his vanguard will take the bridge at York. Then I want you to push through beyond the city to provide scouting cover again to the north.”
Alan looked at his cup and thought, ‘I must have been tired to go to sleep without drinking that’, before he corrected his omission. Putting the cup down, he shook his head tiredly. “I am sorry, my liege, but my men are played out. We rode over ninety miles in a day to reach Peterborough. Fifty miles to Lincoln and sixty something miles here. Nothing unusual in that, but when your men sleep at night we scout and protect them. No warm beds. No hot food. No servants to care for our needs. There is a limit that men can serve for twenty-four hours in a day and we have reached that. If you want constant scouting cover, you have to provide sufficient men for the night shift. The problem is we have to ride all day to keep up with your men’s advance and then have to work all night. My men will provide advance cover tonight and then at daybreak I’m withdrawing them for a day of rest.”
With a thoughtful expression the king nodded and replied, “Very well, I look forward to seeing you in the field the day after tomorrow. Your men can rest here in Selby tomorrow and form part of the guard I’m leaving for the
