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“Well, that has ‘put the cat amongst the pigeons’,” commented Osmund wryly as they walked down the hill towards ‘The Hog’s Head’ Tavern after leaving the castle.

The Tavern was easy to find. It had no sign, but instead a dried and wizened pig’s head stared with empty eyes onto the street. ‘Brun the one-eyed’ was similarly obvious enough to find. He was the barman and had a verbal message from Linn, the young bandit who fitzWymarc had released several weeks earlier. Linn confirmed Pearce’s story of organised banditry across much of Essex and advised that he had joined a band operating in the forest and hills near Braintree and Coggeshall at the junctions of Lexden Hundred, Hinckford Hundred and Witham Hundred. Further contact could be made via a patron of ‘The Prancing Pony’ Tavern at Coggeshall called ‘Old Aelfhare’. Linn also reported that Peace had bolted north for Suffolk and points beyond as soon as he had been released. Alan handed over a penny for the information.

The pigeons came home to roost a few days later when Alan received a written message from Earl Ralph abruptly and rudely ordering him to attend immediately at Norfolk. Alan had Osmund pen a polite response ‘I must decline the kind offer of Earl Ralph to meet with me at Norfolk as that is not on my intended itinerary at this time and is of course some considerable distance. My own duties prevent me from accepting, but I am sure that we will meet in the near future either when you travel through the southern part of your earldom, or alternatively in London, where we will no doubt both shortly need to attend as members of the King’s Council’.

The following day another messenger rode in, this time with a much more polite letter from William Bishop of London asking to see Alan ‘on matters of mutual concern at your earliest convenience when you are next in London’.

It was now Wednesday 18th July, and with the warm and dry summer the village moot had decided to commence the harvest several weeks earlier than normal. Men, women and the older children walked the fields cutting the wheat, oats, rye and barley with scythes and tying it into sheaves that were then arranged in stooks at the end of the fields. The sheaves were next taken away for threshing, with the stalks then being placed in barns, made into haystacks or cut as chaff, and the grain stored in sacks in the communal granary. The cattle were allowed to graze the cut stubble. Certain that only sudden and cataclysmic heavy rain, of which there was no sign, could prevent a successful harvest, Alan was satisfied that it was time for a journey to London. If nothing else he needed to order the glass for the windows in the Hall before autumn came.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LONDON AUGUST 1067

On the journey to London Alan was accompanied by Anne, two maids, Leof, Osmund, ten Wolves and ten huscarles. All the men were mounted and the women travelled in a light cart, and they made a leisurely journey with a halt for the night at Chelmsford. The second day was spent on the road through the Great Forest before they entered London through Aldgate at the east side of the city, travelled through much of the city and noted that the preliminary construction of fortified positions of The Tower, Baynard Castle and Montfichet Tower had been completed, with further work to strengthen their defences underway.

As a man who had spent most of his life in small country villages, with only a few brief years at Rouen and then Paris, and with his time in the former largely spent in the isolation of the Benedictine monastery, Alan was both uncomfortable and excited by being in London. Uncomfortable because he hated the crowding, the streets teeming with people bustling to and fro and the filth from discarded refuse and offensive industries such as tanning and dying. Excited because something was always happening and every stroll through the streets was a new adventure- if you survived it, particularly after dark.

The city proper, the area within the walls, was less than two-thirds of a mile wide along the river by a third of a mile deep from the river to the swamp and farms outside the walls to the north. Large areas of habitation outside the walls straggled along the roads from Westminster to the west and Mile End and Oldford to the east.

Southwark, on the south side of the river, was in Surrey and outside the jurisdiction of the officials in London, with the inevitable result that the buildings were largely ramshackle and there were large numbers of officially permitted brothels called ‘stews’.

The city itself, although crowded, was not in all parts excessively crammed and there were some open areas, particularly close to the Chepe market. There were other areas where land was vacant not by design but by accident as a result of fire. Almost all the buildings in and near the city were of wooden construction and most were thatched. With so many buildings so close together a spilled oil lamp or an unattended fire, whether it be a cooking fire, bread oven or forge, could get out of hand in moments and wreak havoc.

Most of the houses, in some places crammed closely together, were of two, three and sometimes four storeys in height. Many were filthy tenements into which the poor were packed one family to a room with sometimes ten people with barely space to spread a shared straw palliasse on the floor.

On his previous visit Alan had found the people themselves were also different. They were less deferential and more confident and assertive, almost cocky, even in their dealings with customers. Alan, who didn’t see himself as having an over-inflated self-opinion, frankly found it annoying to have a filthy young lad dressed in rags approach him in the streets to try to sell pies or other items and address him in a cheeky manner, almost as an equal. The ‘ladies of the night’ were equally bold in their marketing efforts, even during the day- and even when Alan was accompanied by Anne.

The streets were thronged with people hurrying to and fro. Costermongers selling from their carts. Stall-holders whose stalls blocked the narrow walkways on each side of the streets, causing pedestrians to have to walk on the roadway. In many places stalls were placed opposite each other, creating bottle-necks through which the pedestrians and traffic struggled. Shop owners, many with open-fronted shops and with trestle tables set up to display their wares, were seeking custom but keeping a close eye to ensure that prospective customers or passers-by didn’t purloin their goods. Baker-boys carried trays of pies, breads and sweetmeats on trays supported by a leather strap around their neck. There were touts for all sorts of businesses from taverns to tailors, barbers to ribbon-merchants, with a cacophony of voices as they all called attention to themselves and their goods or services.

Not only the ears and eyes were assaulted, so also was the nose. Sometimes the smells were pleasant, such as when passing a bakery, stalls selling cooked meats or in the Vintry. Most often the smells were offensive, such as on passing the premises of tanners, dyers or fullers, where vats of urine and chemicals gave off rank odours and passers-by paused to make a contribution of urine into pots placed by the footpath; the Fish Market and the Shambles with their stench of spoiled meat, blood and entrails and with rats, cats, curs and crows picking at the noisome heaps; rotten vegetables at the Vegetable Market in Chepe; and the ever-present excrement of people and animals that littered the streets, pot-fulls of night-soil being hurled from upper windows and often striking and miring those walking below.

They finally took rooms at the ‘Fox and Goose’ Inn in Watling Street, just near St Peter’s Church and close to St Paul’s Cathedral in the west of the city. The inn appeared well kept from the outside and Anne was satisfied as to its suitability after a brief inspection. The cathedral bells were ringing Vespers in the evening when Alan had finished his negotiations with the innkeeper to take eight rooms for 28 people, including meals, for a penny per person per a night. He then gave Leof a note to deliver to the St Paul’s Cathedral Minster office, with strict instructions to wait for a reply- and that when he returned he was to take a circuitous route through crowds and alleys to ensure he wasn’t followed. Alan gave him a penny, the first money Leof had ever owned.