After a while Toli urged, “Tell us about the great battle. None of us were there, and those who went to the battle did not return. The earl made his call and those with standing forces departed and did not return. These included Wulfwin, from his lands further west, Alfred Kemp and Estan. Those of us who needed to call in our men had just about reached London when word of the outcome of the battle reached us.”
Alan felt warmed by the invitation and the implicit acceptance given by the request. He also appreciated that the semi-illiterate loved a good story. “Well, as you would expect, we Normans marched from Hastings at dawn. It was difficult country and we were marching along what was little more than a track. We came across the English line about an hour before Terce. They were in a superb defensive position on a steep hill with streams and marshy ground to their front, followed by a ploughed field. Each flank was protected by steep terrain and the trees of the Andreswald.
“The armies were nearly equal in numbers. Probably the English had 1,000 or maybe 2,000 more men, but many were fyrdmen. A third of the Norman forces were heavy cavalry.” Alan described the battlefield and gave a detailed description of the battle to the point that he had departed, the thegns and their men nodding their understanding as he proceeded.
“Why do you think we lost?” asked Ednoth.
“Several factors,” replied Alan. “The main factor was probably the archers and crossbowmen, which over time bled the shield-wall of men. The nature of the land took away the Norman cavalry’s ability to manoeuvre and made head-on attacks both difficult and costly. The English heavy infantry were better than the Norman and French infantry and were strongly positioned. But the archers and crossbowmen could stand off and slowly bleed the defenders to death.”
He took a sip of ale from the tankard before him on the table and continued, “The disposition and arranging of the Saxon infantry was poor. They just seem to have gone into line in the order they arrived with no real organisation or control of the forces that I could see. Also Leofric and Gyrth being killed early in the day didn’t help. When the last of the Godwinsons died there was nobody left to conduct a fighting withdrawal, and nobody able to raise and lead a new army. The main issue was the slow loss of the men on the shield-wall, the King’s Thegns, Royal Huscarles and the lesser thegns and huscarles, meant that eventually the line was shortened enough until some horsemen could get up the west flank. It appeared the thegns wouldn’t allow the fyrdmen to stand in the shield-wall- the line was still four or six deep at the end.”
“What about the loss of men who chased the Bretons down the hill?” queried Ednoth.
“I don’t think that made much difference,” replied Alan with a shrug. “The English had plenty of men and nearly all those lost in that undisciplined charge were fyrdmen armed with a spear or pitchfork, not professional soldiers. Sword-fodder,” said Alan dismissively.
Alan found it interesting that the thegns and cheorls had been keen to hear the story of the battle, even from a man who had been on the other side and facing up the hill, and he had deliberately cast his story to be factual and impartial. Afterwards the evening progressed to heavy drinking and the telling of amusing or ribald stories and jokes, frequently at the expense of either some of those present or other men of local note.
The next day, nursing a slight hang-over, Alan girded his loins to confront the Kemps, brothers of the dead Aelfric. Toli had described them the night before as two impetuous youths of sixteen and seventeen named Aelfhare and Bertholf, who had taken it upon themselves to assume the ownership of Aelfric’s three rich manors and who were both currently living at the Manor Hall at Ramsey. Toli’s comment was that they thought more with their fists and swords and that was why Aelfric’s father had left all three manors to him, instead of leaving one to each son.
Alan asked Toli to accompany him as a witness, and Toli arranged for Dovercourt’s head-cheorl Ordmer and two seasoned fyrdmen to also join them. All were armed with swords. The new cavalrymen Ainulf, Edric, Alfward and Ledmer proudly wore their armour. Alan had been in two minds about that, feeling it may cause unnecessary friction but in the end deciding it made a point, and that the inexperienced cavalrymen would benefit from the extra self-confidence that wearing mail would give.
To be sure of meeting Aelfhare and Bertholf at home they departed at daybreak, and the two and a half mile ride to Ramsey took about fifteen minutes. Ramsey was a large, relatively populous and neat village with about fifty cottages, a mill and a salt house. Unlike many English villages its buildings were extended along the road, rather than being arranged around a central village green. The village was about a mile inland from the sea; the land was flat, with over seven hides of land and a small area of woodland. It had significant pasture and meadowland, which the Kemp family had used to build up a large sheep flock, cattle herd and a horse stud.
The Manor House was on the east of the town. The nine riders dismounted in the forecourt, where they received a mixed reception as, although Toli was a respected neighbour, Alan’s companions were dressed in Norman armour and Alan in a non-descript but now travel-stained black tunic and trousers. A short man of slight build and few years with long dark hair hurried out of the Hall. “Aelfhare,” murmured Toli in Alan’s ear, followed a few moments later by another man slightly younger but taller and more heavily built. “Bertholf.”
“Greetings, Toli! What brings you here so early in the day? Have you broken your fast, or would you like something to eat?” asked Aelfhare, whose sharp eyes were taking in the weapons that the visitors carried and the foreign armour worn by men who, by their appearance and hairstyles, were Englishmen.
“I have eaten, thank you. Myself and my men have been asked here as witness by my new landrica, Alan,” said Toli. Since coming to Tendring Hundred Alan had deliberately not described himself as ‘de Gauville’ nor emphasised his Norman nobility by the use of the honorific ‘Sir’.
Alan stepped forward, towering over the smaller Englishman, who barely came up to his chest. “You are aware that your brother Aelfric died in battle at Hastings and that the land of all who did so has been declared forfeit by King William. The three manors formerly held by your brother have been given to me as landboc. I’m the new owner.”
Bertholf spat on the ground, deliberately near Alan’s feet. “I give that for your king and his proclamations!” he said aggressively. Alan noticed out of the corner of his eye that three of his own companion’s hands had gone to their swords and were gripping the hilts. Edric, who preferred the single-handed battle-axe, unclipped it from his belt and held the end of its two and a half foot haft, while resting the eight-inch polished steel head on his shoulder. The movements also caught the eye of the two Kemp brothers who, while they could call on many more men, did not have men under arms immediately available.
Alan spoke in a dangerously quiet voice, while resting his hand on the hilt of his still un-drawn sword. “King William was anointed by Ealdred, Archbishop of York, the same man who crowned Harold Godwinson. Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury and all the nobles of England have submitted to him. He is not just my king, he is also your king and to defy his edicts is treason punishable by death. I’m also Chief Judge of the Hundred court. I’m happy to carry out sentence here and now if that is your wish? I am prepared to give the two of you three days to vacate the manors. I’m seeking skilled and obedient warriors who will follow my orders. If you wish, I may be prepared to give you a trial amongst my warriors, which may in time result in you being granted laenland. I make no promises and that would depend on both your skills and your attitude, which has been lacking so far today. Take me to the manor strongbox now.”