“I acknowledge the difficulty with food. The Welsh carried off all the milled flour and burnt what they could not carry away- even your seed stock for the spring planting. I’ll bring in seed for you to sow and provide it to you at no cost. Some of your oxen were hidden and can still pull a plough. Others were stolen or killed. The ploughs were burnt, but the village smiths can make new ones within a few weeks- the plough-shares themselves remain. Men may need to plough the land by hand come springtime, but I will provide what assistance I can. Your dairy cattle were taken. Probably half of your swine remain, as you were quick enough to drive them into the woodland, where taking them was difficult for the Welsh. Similarly with your cattle.
“I advise regarding the lord’s rights, that
“One wagon of flour should arrive tomorrow or the next day. I’ll send several others over the next few months. That will be rationed out and distributed free of charge to those in need.
“I’m not, generally speaking, a generous lord. But I recognise that these are difficult times and that those who have a call on my generosity are in need. You are my people; we have mutual obligations. When your villages are in a better position, should I then be in need, I would expect your support- as I now support you.” Alan nodded and sat down.
After several short speeches of appreciation from the village headmen, Alan, Anne and Robert walked over to the site of the former manor Hall, walking through its blackened walls and collapsed roof.
“It’ll be easier to start again,” commented Robert.
Alan grunted agreement. “Where?” he asked.
Robert pointed. “Probably just over there. This time a ditch and rampart, plus the palisade. Do we need a motte?”
“It’s not really worth the effort involved,” replied Alan. “The Welsh don’t go in for prolonged sieges and you couldn’t get all the people into the small tower for safety anyway. It should be sufficient to have a nine or ten foot deep trench, with spoil on the defensive side, and properly made embankment with a palisade on top; the old timber can be reused. That should be nearly impossible to breach quickly. You won’t be burnt out of house and home again, with the Grace of God, and some basic precautions.”
“So let us go and smite the Philistines on the other side of the border, for the Lord our God is with us!” commented Robert.
Alan clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s just kick arse and let God worry about the rest!” he replied with a laugh.
Appropriately, at that time the parish priest Father Siward walked into the village. The small thin man wore a brown habit and with a straggly moustache, he looked for all the world like an anxious mouse. Siward had been visiting his congregation at Byford and had his rectory nearby at Monnington. He ushered Alan and Anne into a small annex off the church sanctuary, the vestry where he changed his vestments before celebrating Mass. Siward urged them to sit at the stools while he perched himself on a small table after he had offered what hospitality he could, a cup of sour communion wine.
“What of your parishioners’ spiritual needs?” asked Anne.
Siward showed himself to be both quick-witted and compassionate with his reply. “The last six months have been a difficult time for the parish, and indeed the shire. The Welsh swept in like… not a plague of locusts as they were much more violent and dangerous than that, but you know what I mean. They stole everything they could and what they couldn’t steal they deliberately spoiled. The standing crops were burnt and the spare seedstock ruined. There are many still without the shelter of their own homes. Food is scarce and bellies empty. Fortunately, the river provides us with fish for meat and we were able to harvest some vegetables. There’s no grain for bread, or even to ferment to make ale! The dairy cattle and milking-goats were stolen, so there’s no milk and no cheese. The worst is the loss of the oxen. Without them we’ll be unable to plant more than a small amount of crops, even if we are able to procure any seed to sow. Most of the other cattle, sheep and swine were driven off into the forest and many were saved, but it’s been a struggle to keep them alive in the winter with most of the fodder gone. However, we’ve enough livestock to breed back to former levels, given time. Let us pray to God that the remainder of the winter is not harsh and that God gives a bountiful harvest in the autumn.
“The hardship of the body has affected the spirit of the people. Perhaps worst of all is the loss of loved ones. My parish lost 57 men killed and 16 women, together with some lytlings. Another 11 men and 21 women taken captive, for whom their families also grieve but without the knowledge of their fate. Lytlings are left orphaned, or with but one parent who struggles to provide for them. May Mary, mother of God, give them comfort.”
“I share your wishes for God’s future bounty and will include these lands in my prayers each day,” said Alan piously. “Bleddyn has followed one of the principals of Vegetius. ‘The main and principal point in war is to secure plenty of provisions for oneself and to destroy the enemy by famine. Famine is more terrible than the sword’,” he quoted. “I understand that the English, under Harold and before, have treated the Welshmen roughly. I’m sure that in the time since fitzOsbern has been on the border that he’s done nothing to endear himself to the Welsh. They raid us, we use heavy-handed punitive measures against them.”
“Christian kindness has been lacking on both sides of the border,” confirmed Siward.
“I’ll have twenty men-at-arms stationed here at Staunton under Sir Robert de Aumale, mainly Englishmen but led by Normans We will build a… not ‘castle’ as such, but a strong defensive position where all the people can take refuge. Generally the people don’t take this well. How do you think the people of these manors will react?”
“After last year, they will react very favorably. You could fill the castle with Moors, and as long as they were here to defend them the people of your villages wouldn’t care! Safety is the most important thing to them now,” replied Siward. “If you can protect them they wouldn’t care if you were Lucifer himself.”
“And would they train and fight?” enquired Alan.
“They fought last summer. Many died wielding pitchfork and spade supporting the local lords of Staunton and Monnington and their few retainers. If you equip them, train them and lead, yes they’ll fight,” replied Siward.
Alan cast an eye on the gathering darkness outside the small window in the vestry. “Father, I thank you for our discussion. I must away to Hereford with Lady Anne, but we’ll return on the morrow and talk further. Hopefully tomorrow a wagon should arrive from Colchester with flour and we’ll arrange for some sacks of barley to be brought to make ale- such a lack will not be acceptable to my men!”
Anne added, “Can you please arrange for me tomorrow to meet with a delegation of the womenfolk from the villages, including the wives of each of the head-cheorls?”
Siward nodded acquiescence. “Certainly! I’ll have them here and you can conduct your meeting in the church nave,” he replied.
“And can you conduct Mass for all at Terce or a little after, depending on when we can arrive? Perhaps a suitable homily from the pulpit to help us in our efforts and build a good relationship with the locals?” asked Anne.
Siward nodded his agreement and Alan and Anne took their leave after a parting benediction from the priest, mounting to ride back to Hereford with an escort of four men-at-arms.
After a ride of a little over an hour they arrived back at Hereford just as full dark was falling and the guards on the West Gate were struggling to push the heavy gates closed, narrowly avoiding having to pay a bribe to have the gates opened after nightfall.
Even though it was only a little before four in the afternoon, in the gathering darkness the street vendors were packing away their wares and the merchants were closing their shops. Alan and Anne proceeded immediately to the warehouses of the grain merchants, hoping to find them still open. After a few minutes in the first grain store Anne shook her head and led the way out, sure that the merchant was seeking to take advantage of them. However, the prices in the second store were similar- five times the price that they had paid at Gloucester. They limited their purchase to four bushels of barley. The next stop was a brewery. Given their new-found knowledge of the cost of the raw materials used in the brewing process they were not surprised to have to pay top price for a brew of quite moderate quality. Alan purchased seven hogsheads of ale, each of 54 gallons.
They arrived back at the Lion inn just as dinner was being served. Menjoire soup, herbelade pork pies, spinach tarte and mustard lentils. This wasn’t an overly rich meal, but one Alan and Anne were sure would be
