Ralph turned to the prelate, who shuffled his papers. “I will be brief,” he said.
“Praise the Lord for that!” muttered Ralph.
“You will all remember the visit of the first team of royal commissioners.” There was a mutinous growl from the body of the hall and he raised his voice to smother it at birth. “Our predecessors were industrious men who laboured hard to produce the returns for the county of Essex. Those returns were sent to the Treasury in Winchester where they will, in the course of time, be transcribed.” He increased the volume of his address even more. “When certain irregularities have been dealt with. I speak of the illegal acquisition of land.”
More rumblings broke out and Ralph had to thump the table to restore calm. He glanced meaningfully at his men to remind his audience that he had the strength of his knights to enforce order upon the proceedings. When a surly silence fell once more on the hall, Canon Hubert resumed.
“The county of Essex is a quarrelsome place,” he said with unconcealed distaste. “Shire juries and Hundred juries have heard endless cases of invasions, occupations, ablations, and general misappropriations. The work of our predecessors confirmed this distressing picture. An examination of the returns that they made to Winchester has revealed a pattern of random annexation and nowhere is this more evident than in Maldon.” Murmurs of agreement started, but he rode over them like a ship cresting a wave. “King William has sent us here to right any injustices that have come to light. When we have
done that, the returns can be amended before being transcribed by the Exchequer clerks to take their place alongside the records of other shires.”
Ralph let him speak for another ten minutes before he interrupted the garrulous canon. “We are empowered to call any witnesses,” he warned sternly. “No man is too mean to be ignored in our deliberations and no lord too great to refuse our summons.” To emphasise the point, his eye rested for a moment on Jocelyn FitzCorbucion and there was a crackle of enmity between the two of them. “We will begin taking the evidence tomorrow. The following persons will be summoned.”
Gervase Bret took charge and read a list of names from the document in front of him. The burgesses listened with gathering fascination. Every person mentioned was a Saxon whose land had been forcibly annexed by Hamo FitzCorbucion. The lord of the manor of Blackwater had seen off the first commissioners with an amalgam of bluster and easy duplicity. Could four men with a bundle of documents really uphold the rights of dispossessed Saxons against such a mighty Norman presence? Hamo was omnipotent. Hope nevertheless stirred in the shire hall. Ralph Delchard’s force of character, Canon Hubert’s open denunciation of illegality, and Gervase Bret’s steady litany of injured parties served at least to inspire a guarded confidence. Blackwater Hall was no longer the irresistible force it had been for the last twenty years. Hamo FitzCorbucion was in Normandy, his elder son lay dead, and Jocelyn was as yet unproven in a role of authority. Saxons were encouraged to take heart.
“That concludes our business for the afternoon,” said Ralph when the list of witnesses was finally completed. “We start here tomorrow at ten o’clock and we insist on punctuality.”
The meeting broke up in an excited babble and the burgesses streamed into the street to compare their reactions to what they had just heard. Some of the Norman landholders and subtenants also departed, peeved that they had been summoned to the hall for such a perfunctory meeting, but reassured by the fact that the investigations were not directed at their property. A few barons stayed to complain and bicker, but Ralph Delchard waved them away with brisk unconcern. Jocelyn FitzCorbucion was not so easily sent on his way. He stood up to confront the commissioners and he spoke with glacial composure.
“I am here on behalf of my father, Hamo FitzCorbucion,” he said. “When will we have to appear in person before you?”
“When you are called,” said Ralph. “We require ample notice.”
“It is up to us to decide any requirements.”
Jocelyn was unruffled. “Do not try to bully us, my lord. We are not
mindless Saxons who can be herded like sheep. If you wish for cooperation, you will have to ask for it with sufficient courtesy or your request will be denied. We are not at your beck and call.”
“Indeed, you are!” asserted Ralph, rising to his feet. “If you do not come before us when summoned, I will send my men to demand the reason.”
Jocelyn raised a mocking eyebrow. “Eight bold knights? Really, my lord! What can you hope to achieve? If your eight dare to venture near Blackwater Hall, they will find ten times that number asking them their business in round terms. You will need a whole army if you intend to offer force.”
“We are here by royal warrant!”
“Why so are we, my lord. My father sailed from Normandy in the Conqueror’s own ship. He fought at Hastings and he was granted his estates in Maldon as part of his reward. We have charters with the King’s seal upon them.” He gave a shrug. “They are a form of royal warrant, are they not?”
Ralph was taken aback by the bland assurance of the reply and Jocelyn preened himself. He could see that he had put the commissioner on the defensive and, in the process, he had gained the admiration of his steward. Fulk was pleasantly surprised at the lordly tone that Jocelyn was taking. He had always thought him rather weak and ineffective in the past because he was so easily overshad-owed by Guy, but he had clearly underestimated him. Jocelyn might not be as intimidating as his father or as contemptuous of opposition as his brother, yet he had the FitzCorbucion pugnacity, albeit it in a more civilised form.
Gervase Bret came quickly to Ralph’s assistance.
“We are not concerned with land that was granted to your father in
1066,” he said to Jocelyn. “Our interest is in the frequent annexations that have taken place in the past twenty years.”
“They, too, can be supported by charter,” said Jocelyn. “We will put that claim to the test.”
“When we decide to call you,” added Ralph firmly.
“We will vindicate ourselves,” came the confident reply. “If, that is, we decide to answer your summons.”
“Would you offer an insult to the King!” growled Ralph.
“He is not here to be insulted, my lord.” “We speak for him!”
“I think you exceed your authority somewhat.” Jocelyn was almost taunting them now. “Your predecessors did the same and my father had to teach them some geography. Maldon is a very long way from Winchester.”
Ralph went puce with indignation. “Do you dare to flout royal commissioners?” he roared.
“God forbid!” exclaimed the other. “I simply remind you that you are in FitzCorbucion territory here. If I summon our men, they will come running in their dozens: If you call for the Conqueror’s soldiers, your voice will not reach all the way to Winchester.”
“Do not threaten me-boy!” said Ralph vehemently.
“I merely suggest that you treat us with respect.” “And I warn you to do the same to us.”
“Of course.”
Jocelyn gave him a thin smile and a gentle bow. He was relishing his taste of power and felt completely in control of the situation. Before Ralph could upbraid the young man for his impudence, Gervase intervened to deflect them. An argument with the FitzCorbucion family at this stage was pointless and it would not advance their cause in any way. He therefore introduced a more diplomatic note.