followers; but no one knew in the darkness who was present, who was absent. A shadow of imagined command lay with Lord Maxwell as Warden of the Marches; but the King of Scots, jealous ever of the best-affected of his lords, intended to keep the credit of the success, yet without sharing in the enterprise. He had therefore perilously allowed the expedition to go forward with no nominal head; and as soon as the border was crossed, Oliver Sinclair, one of those worthless minions with which the Scottish Court, to its misfortune, was so often burdened, was instructed to declare himself the general-in-chief in the King's name.
The arrangements had been laid skilfully, so far as effecting a surprise. The November night covered the advance, and no hint of the approach of the Scots preceded them. They were across the Esk before daybreak, and the Cumberland farmers, waking from their sleep, saw the line of their corn-stacks smoking from Longtown to the Roman wall. The garrison of Carlisle, ignorant of the force of the invaders, dared not, for the first hours of the morning, leave the walls of the city and there was no other available force in readiness. The Scots spread unresisted over the country, wasting at their pleasure.
But the English Borderers were not the men to stand by quietly as soon as they had recovered from their first alarm. There were no men-at-arms at hand; but the farmers and their farm-servants had but to snatch their arms and spring into their saddles, and they became at once 'the Northern Horse,' famed as
