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 of clear land, mainly where wooden buildings had been destroyed by fire and the ruins demolished.
Alan always felt almost claustrophobic in the narrow streets, hemmed in by a mass of humanity and hardly able to see the sky. Whether he found the noise or the smells of the city more offensive was a moot point. There was a constant hubbub of noise. Costermongers, stall-holders and touts shouted their wares or services. Beggars stood or sat at busy corners displaying sores and missing or deformed limbs and crying for alms. Gangs of street urchins called and shouted as they ran through the alleys and side-streets. The bellow of oxen; braying of donkeys; the whinnying of horses pulling wagons; the creak and rattle of cartwheels; the clang of church bells from a myriad of churches, many ringing in isolation as their priests and congregations chose to interpret time slightly differently to that announced by the bells of St Paul’s Cathedral when they announced the Vespers service.
Whilst the noise was almost constant, the smells varied. Always present was the smell of unwashed bodies, rotting household rubbish thrown onto the street and human and animal excrement. On passing premises occupied by fullers, tanners or dyers the particular stenches of their occupations became dominant, principally the smell of urine or animal faeces. At the Chepe markets were the smells of rotting fish and vegetables, blood and offal. The road passed north of the square where St Paul’s Cathedral stood, but the spires of the church and the looming bulk of Montfichet Tower and Baynard’s Castle could be glimpsed through gaps in the buildings. Having passed through the city they eventually exited the walls at Newgate, crossed the wooden bridge over the Holebourn stream and a few minutes later were at their London house in Holebourn.
The party dismounted in the yard and stood stretching tired and aching limbs. The stable-boy Tiw hurried out. From his red eyes Alan could tell that the young lad had obviously been crying, but he appeared beside himself at the opportunity to care for the horses of the traveling party. A slightly-built woman of medium height with long black hair, well dressed in an ankle-length gown of brown wool with an embroidered hem, stepped out of the doorway and gave a grave nod of welcome. This was Jemima, Jacob’s wife, who Alan and Anne had met only twice previously. Next to her stood a middle-aged man, by his dress also Jewish. Two burly Englishman also appeared, and then the cook Wilda peered through the doorway.
“Good evening,” said Jemima in her quiet voice. “Welcome to your home. I’ll send somebody to fetch Jacob. This is Tomer, my brother-in-law. You two men, help Tiw with the horses.”
Once inside they saw the maid Aidith, who gave a quick curtsey and disappeared into the Buttery to fetch jugs of ale and food for the weary travelers.
The ten men-at-arms, led by Edric, sat at one table in the Hall, while Alan, Anne and Osmund sat at another and Alan gestured for Jemima and Tomer to be seated. The servants who had traveled from Essex, including Bisgu the wet-nurse who was holding baby Juliana, sat at a third table.
Without being asked Jemima said, “Three days ago, in the evening after dark, a group of thugs forced their way into the house. Aitkin and Aidith were inside. Wilda was in the town and Tiw was sleeping in the stables. They ransacked the house for valuables. Aitkin gave them what money you had left in his care, but they were unsatisfied. They raped Aidith, and when he tried to prevent that Aitkin was stabbed to death. Although she was beside herself with grief, Aidith sent Tiw to Newgate to raise the alarm with the guards and to tell Jacob about what had happened. With Aitkin dead she couldn’t think who else to tell. Jacob asked me to come and care for Aidith and arranged with Gareth for him to lend some men to provide security. Aidith, Wilda and myself tidied up the mess- there was quite a lot of breakage. It would appear that the thieves took about thirty shillings and some gold and silver items. They made quite a mess in the buttery, as they smashed the barrels of what wine and ale they couldn’t carry off and the room was awash.”