Dear Mr. Cornwell,

 

My name is Bill Fayers. I was born in the village of Orsett, Essex in January 1954 (69). I wanted to take this opportunity to say, “thank you”.

It is only relatively recently that I finally ‘discovered’ your literary output and I began with the Grail Quest series. I was hooked.

Most recently I have thoroughly enjoyed reading of the exploits of Uhtred in The Last Kingdom series.

Being a resident of Orsett I was only 12 miles (as the arrow flies or the Southend-on-Sea to Fenchurch Street train travels) from Benfleet. Consequently, the family days out to Chalkwell or Southend took us through the railway station at Benfleet, although that was as much of Benfleet as I would see until the time that I got my first car and travelled to the beaches via the old A13. Dad could never afford a car, hence busses, trains and day trips.

My brother, sisters and I would eagerly look out of the train window as we approached the Thames estuary at Pitsea Creek to see if the tide was in or out, it would make the difference of us spending much of the day paddling in either water or mud.

The history of Britain and its people interested me from an early age, so it was most intriguing to read of the Viking / Saxon battle that took place on the Benfleet shore. I had never heard about it before.

It is a pity that the history taught at school came across as dull and boring. Or perhaps that was just my youthful appraisal of the subject and of my teachers? I can confess to being a ‘late developer’.

I looked up the battle in Wikipedia, my ‘go to’ font of all knowledge, and read with some surprise that the remains of burned long boats were discovered at the site of the battle during the construction of the railway line. That certainly didn’t come up in our history lessons, I would have stayed awake for that!

Nine years ago, I escaped from Essex and moved to Somerton in Somerset.

Somerton is an old market town and lays claim to having once been the capital town of Wessex. There seems to be no definitive proof of this other than a sign on the road into Somerton that declares it to have been so.

It is certain that the county jail, (built c.1280), stood in Somerton until it was relocated to Illchester.

Wikipedia has this to say about Somerton.

The earliest written reference to the town is in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which records that in 733 the King of Wessex, Æthelheard lost control of Somerton to Æthelbald, King of Mercia. Somerton was the site of the 949 meeting of the witan, a form of Anglo-Saxon parliament.

The town returned to West Saxon royal control in the ninth century, and it was listed in the Domesday Book of 1086 as “Sumertone”.

The Church of England parish church, St Michael and All Angels, has origins which date from the 13th century, with a major reshaping in the mid-15th century, and further restoration in 1889.

It is said there are bullet holes in the timbers [of the roof] caused by soldiers who camped in the church in 1646 before the Battle of Langport.

Having read that King Alfred, (and Uhtred), had retreated to ‘the trackless marsh lands of Somerset’ to escape the enemy I decided that I ought to pay homage to Alfred by visiting the King Alfred Monument, located in a field behind an old farmhouse at Athelney. I had the site all to myself, it’s rather off the tourist trail.

It was a strange feeling to think that, to a large extent, it was from this spot that, with Alfred’s  determination and persistence, England grew!

Athelney is only about nine miles from Somerton, so I think it must be highly likely that Alfred knew of and possibly visited Somerton at some time. It’s a nice thought.

Once again, the only thing that I remembered being taught at school about Alfred is that he was the King who burned the cakes. He was certainly much more than that.

It is very obvious that you meticulously research your topic before constructing a story around the facts, and that makes the story so much more interesting.

So again, thank you for the hours of pleasure that your books have given me, and the hours of pleasure still to come.

Very best wishes,

Bill Fayers.