Robert the Bruce and the struggle for Scottish independence/The Battle of Bannockburn

by Herbert Maxwell

Sir Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester.	Sir Giles de Argentine.

CHAPTER IX.

THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN.

A.D. 1314.

THE year 1314 proved a memorable one for the fortunes of the King of Scots and his people.

It opened with the capture of Roxburgh Castle by Sir James Douglas on Shrove Tuesday, March 6th, when the garrison were occupied with the usual merry-making on the eve of Lent. Douglas picked sixty men and made them cover their armour with black "froggis," and approach the castle on all fours, so that in the dusk they might be mistaken for cattle in the meadows. A craftsman called Sym of the Ledous (Leadhouse) had prepared rope ladders with hooks to fling over the battlements, and was himself the first to scale the wall, slaying the sentinel who was aroused by the noise. Another man running up shared the same fate. Then Douglas and his men climbed up without further hindrance, and, forming up in the courtyard, burst into the great hall where the people were dancing, with loud shouts of "Douglas! Douglas!" The governor, Sir William de Fiennes, a knight of Gascony, was in the keep, and held it all the next day; but having been severely wounded in the face, he surrendered on condition of being allowed to march out with the honours of war and pass into England. He died of his wound not long afterwards. The loss of this castle was a serious one to England, for it commanded Teviotdale and upper Tweeddale; but Bruce, as usual, "tumlit" it to the ground.

The King's sister, Maria de Brus, who had been imprisoned in Roxburgh Castle in 1306, was no longer there when it was taken. Edward II. had signed a warrant for her exchange for Walter Comyn in March, 1310, and another in February, 1312, for her exchange for Sir Richard de Moubray, but neither transaction had been carried into effect, for she was still in prison at Newcastle in November, 1313.^[1]

During this same season of Lent, Thomas Randolph, having made peace with his uncle King Robert, was blockading Edinburgh Castle. One William François told him of a place on the north wall, where, while living as a youth with his father in the castle, he used to find his way out at night to visit a girl in the town. All that was wanted at this point was a ladder twelve feet long, to give access over the wall from the top of a pathway up the crags. Up this path François guided Randolph, Sir Andrew Gray, and a picked band; it is prettily told by Barbour how they managed the perilous ascent; how they lay close under the wall while sentries were being relieved; how a sentry flung a stone over their heads, crying, "Away! I can see you," though he saw nothing; and how, in the end, they scaled the wall, surprised the garrison, slew Sir Peter de Lubaud, the governor, and got possession of the castle.^[2] But he does not mention what the chronicler of Lanercost, being informed from English sources, relates, that simultaneously with the escalade on the north side, an attack was delivered on the south (it must have been on the west, and a feint), whereby the attention of the defenders was withdrawn from the real point of danger.^[3]

The exact date of the capture or surrender of Dundee, held by Sir Alexander de Abernethy with a strong garrison, has not been ascertained; nor that of the taking of Rutherglen. But both of these strongholds fell into the hands of Edward de Brus; and, by the spring of 1314, the only important fortresses held by the English in Scotland were those of Berwick, Stirling, Bothwell, and possibly Lochmaben.

The warmest partisan in the Scottish cause cannot but feel some pity for the English commanders and soldiers, left as they were at this time without support or encouragement from their own King, in the presence of an enemy daily growing in strength. Garrison after garrison was obliged to yield to the force of numbers or stress of starvation. But a

STIRLING CASTLE FROM THE SOUTH-WEST.

(From a photograph by Valentine Bros., Dundee.)

still darker disaster was approaching—a deeper humiliation for the proud chivalry of England.

Edward de Brus had laid siege to Stirling Castle in Lent, 1313, and it remained closely invested till midsummer. The governor, Sir Philip de Moubray, then obtained from Edward de Brus consent to a suspension of hostilities, on condition that he, Sir Philip, would surrender, if he were not relieved before Midsummer Day, 1314. When King Robert heard of this he was greatly displeased. He knew that if anything would put the chivalry of England on its mettle, and reconcile the barons with their incompetent King, it would be this summons to the rescue of a brother knight—this fixing a distant day for a supreme effort. He ever saw that his best chance lay in avoiding a general action, and in carrying on an irregular and profitable warfare on the Border, while the English Government continued distracted by civil discord. However, the mistake had been made: Edward de Brus's knightly word had been pledged, and the King of Scots was not the man to recoil from the consequences.

Matters turned out exactly as Robert had foreseen. The King of England set about making immense preparations, and, Piers Gaveston having expiated his offences on the scaffold, the barons responded heartily to the summons to arms. The Earl of Lancaster, however, with his adherents Warwick, Warenne, and Arundel, remained at home, being dissatisfied because of Edward's failure to fulfil certain pledges made to them.^[4] Writs were issued for the muster at Wark, on June 11, 1314, of 21,540 foot, drawn from twelve of the midland and northern counties of England. Eth O'Connor, Celtic chief of Connaught, was invoked as an auxiliary, and King Edward's subjects in Ireland and Wales were summoned to his standard. Besides these there were contingents of Gascons and other foreign troops. The English bishops offered an indulgence of forty days to all who would offer prayer for the success of the expedition.

Lord Hailes sharply takes exception to Hume's opinion that the alleged total of 100,000 as the strength of the English army was an over-estimate; but there is, in truth, nothing to show that it approached that figure. Barbour, indeed, asserts that the host exceeded 100,000, but he puts the cavalry alone at the exorbitant cypher of 40,000, a number which it would have been utterly impossible to maintain in a country where agriculture had suffered from years of desolating war. It is true that the English fleet co-operated with the army, but it would have plenty to do in landing supplies for 50,000, which is the most liberal estimate of the total strength of all arms that can be founded on the evidence of the Patent Rolls.^[5] Even this would be a very powerful army, far outnumbering any that the King of Scots could put in the field against it.

The official evidence still extant of the force of the English in this campaign, is wholly wanting as regards the strength of the Scottish host. Barbour puts it at 30,000, but it is difficult to believe that Bruce had anything like that number under arms. Admitting, as nearly all authorities agree to do, that the English army bore to the Scottish the proportion of three to one, it seems reasonable to put the latter at 20,000 at most. Both hosts, no doubt, were followed by a huge swarm of "pitaille"—camp-followers and rascals of all sorts, who always gathered in the wake of mediæval war.

As St. John's day—June 24th—drew near, on which it had been appointed that the destinies of the two nations were to be decided, the King of Scots encamped with all his forces in the Torwood, between Falkirk of gloomy memories and Stirling of happier associations. In the presence of the overwhelming odds brought against him, it must have taxed even his stout spirit and well-proved courage to keep foreboding at bay, when he remembered the result of the last great trial of strength between the hosts of England and Scotland—the overthrow of Wallace at Falkirk. Every advantage gained since the death of the mighty Edward, the future of his country, and his own fate—all were to be put to the hazard of a contest between two vastly unequal armies. But his nerve never forsook him. There were other memories for the King besides those of Falkirk and Dunbar. Stirling Bridge, Loudon Hill, Glentrool—each had taught the same lesson, namely, that military skill in the choice and preparation of position might, and often did, prevail against superiority of numbers and equipment. To this task he devoted himself, and no one can appreciate the sagacity with which he accomplished it, without going carefully over the ground which he chose. But besides the technical part of his office as commander-in-chief, there was the hardly less important duty of rousing the spirit and patriotic ardour of his soldiers. None understood better than the Bruce how this was to be done. He went incessantly among his troops, advising and encouraging them, and personally superintended the execution of the works he ordered to be done. Nor did he neglect the aid of religion; for, doubly excommunicate though he was, he directed the vigil of St. John (Sunday, June 23d) to be kept as a solemn fast.

News was brought by scouts on Saturday, June 22d, that the English army had lain overnight at Edinburgh,^[6] and was advancing by way of Falkirk. Upon this King Robert moved out upon the position which he had already chosen with great care, on some gently swelling hills, about two miles south of Stirling, with his front facing south by east. The English had the alternative of two lines of advance—by the old Roman highway, leading through the village of St. Ninians, or farther to the east, by the "carse" or plain beside the river Forth, across patches of cultivation and shallow pools of water. The King of Scots was prepared to oppose them whichever way they came, and, with great prudence, refrained from taking up his ground until the enemy was committed to one of these two lines. Had the English come by the carse, Bruce would have met them at a point where the Forth makes a bend and considerably narrows the level ground. Here the enemy would have been compelled greatly to reduce his front, thereby sacrificing his great advantage in numbers, especially for the operations of cavalry, an arm in which he was unusually strong.

As soon as it was evident that King Edward had chosen the upper route, through St. Ninians, Bruce took up the ground he had chosen to meet that contingency. This was in the park, where, from almost immemorial time, game had been preserved for the hunting of the Scottish kings. His army was in four divisions; the right being under command of Edward de Brus, the second under Randolph, Earl of Moray, and the third, on the left of the line, under Walter the Steward and Douglas; while the King himself held the fourth division in reserve. In front of the Scottish position flowed the Bannock burn, which, in summer, is but an insignificant brook. But the quick eye of Bruce had discerned its importance to his position. For less than a mile, between Parkmill on the west and Beaton's mill^[7] on the east, the stream runs nearly level with its banks, affording no difficulty either to horseman or foot soldier in fording it. Beyond these points, however, the banks are precipitous, and practically impassable by cavalry. Edward's advance, therefore, had to be directed between these two points, and the front of his vast array reduced to a corresponding extent.

But this was very far from all. Besides the Bannock, in itself a trifling obstacle, there were two bogs, skirting each side of the ancient causeway along which Edward had to move. One of these, now called Halbert's Bog, extended from New Park, at a point opposite Charters Hall Mains, to the foot of Brock's Brae; the other called Milton Bog, stretched from a point close to the causeway down to where the banks of the Bannock rise into wooded cliffs. These bogs lay on the north bank of the Bannock, and therefore between the Scots and the stream. They covered nearly the whole Scottish front; but there was a piece of hard land extending along both banks westward from Charters Hall to Parkmill, though this ground, being thickly wooded, was less favourable for the operations of cavalry. Practically it came to this, that the English, in order to cross the Bannock and attack the Scottish position, would have to advance in two columns: one with a front reduced sufficiently to pass between the two bogs; the other with a front of some two hundred yards to operate in the fringe of the Torwood, on the ground between Charters Hall and Parkmill.

Even this great disadvantage was not enough to satisfy the King of Scots. He directed and personally superintended the construction of elaborate defences against cavalry—the arm in which he felt most inferior to the English. He caused the ground between the two bogs, and also the hard land opposite the right of his line, to be honeycombed with a multitude of round holes, measuring a foot in diameter and as deep as a man's knee, which were then covered with sods resting on small sticks.^[8]

On Sunday morning, June 23d, at sunrise, mass was celebrated in the Scottish camp. It was nearly noon^[9] when tidings came of the approach of the English army from Falkirk, where they had lain the night before. Barbour says they marched in ten divisions of 10,000 each; the chronicler of Lanercost mentions eleven principal commanders, namely, the Earls of Gloucester, Hereford, Pembroke, and Angus; Sir Robert de Clifford, Sir John Comyn (son of the Red Comyn), Sir Henry de Beaumont, Sir John de Segrave, Sir Pagan de Typtoft, Sir Edmund de Maul and Sir Ingelram de Umfraville. The King of Scots called upon any of his men who feared the coming battle to depart at once, but not a man left the ranks.

The English vanguard came in sight on the rising ground near Plean. The main body, it seems, had been halted, in order that a council of war might be held, to discuss whether the attack should be made at once or deferred till the morrow. The weather was intensely hot;^[10] perhaps the troops were exhausted by their march from Falkirk, although that place lies only nine miles south from Bannockburn. It was decided, apparently unwisely, to bivouack in the carse near the river, vn mauueis parfound ruscelle marras,^[11] so that men and horses might be fresh for their work on the next day. Sir Thomas Gray, whose account of the battle differs in some respects from all others, and who, writing as a soldier and the son of a knight who was present, is deserving of special consideration, seems to attribute the delay to the advice of Sir Philip de Moubray, governor of Stirling, who had ridden out to meet King Edward. This knight warned the English generals how the Scots had raised obstructions in the passes of the woods (auoint fowez lez estroitz chemyns du boys), and said that it was not necessary for them to advance farther, for that the conditions of the relief of Stirling had been fulfilled by an English army coming within three miles of that town.

The vanguard, however, pressed on, whether because the Earl of Gloucester was not informed of the halt, or because his young knights were eager for a brush with the enemy.^[12]

There is some discrepancy in the order given by various writers to the events which immediately followed, and I have chosen to follow chiefly the narrative of Sir Thomas Gray, though other historians have generally adopted the accounts of monkish, and therefore inexpert, authorities. But Barbour's personal descriptions may be relied on with considerable confidence.

The King of Scots rode up and down his lines mounted on a palfrey—

"ane gay palfray
Litill and joly."

He carried a battle-axe in his hand; on his head he wore a basnet covered with cuir bouilli, or "corbuyle"^[13] as soldiers called it, surmounted by the royal crown. In the best manner of chivalry Sir Henry de Bohun, the Earl of Hereford's nephew, rode out alone from the English ranks, to challenge a Scottish champion to single combat. He was mounted on a powerful destrier and armed at all points; a shudder must have run through the Scottish battalions when the King himself spurred forward on his hackney to take up the challenge. The encounter was as brief as it was decisive. De Bohun, lance in rest, charged the King, whose pony nimbly avoided the shock. Bruce, rising in his stirrups, smote the English knight on the helmet as he passed, with such violence that the axe clove his head from the crown to the chin. The axe shaft broke, and the force of the blow carried Bruce forward, so that he fell from his saddle flat on the ground.

What tremendous issues depended at that moment on the nerve and skill of a single mortal! The whole future history of Great Britain, involving the existence of dynasties and the welfare of millions, was staked on the fibre of one arm and the coolness of one head. For the effect of such an episode on the minds of superstitious soldiers cannot be overestimated, happening as it did on the eve of a pitched battle, for which a whole year had been spent in preparation. It is easy to believe that, as Barbour describes, Bruce's barons hotly remonstrated with him for having risked so much and imperilled a life of such supreme value; but it is equally easy to imagine to what pitch of confidence and enthusiasm the Scottish soldiers were raised, by this display of personal courage and feat of arms, enacted on that bright summer noon, in plain view of the English and Scottish troops. It is said that King Robert met the reproaches of his barons by observing that it was indeed a pity he had broken his good battle-axe.

While Gloucester menaced the front of the Scottish position, he detached 300 English men-at-arms under Sir Robert de Clifford,^[14] to circle round the left of their line and, by keeping the low ground near the Forth, to establish communications with the garrison of Stirling. Bruce, with the true instinct of a soldier, had foreseen some such movement, and had given strict orders to Randolph to be on his guard to intercept it. The exact position occupied by Randolph on this day has been the subject of much uncertainty. It would seem more natural that the duty of watching the approach to Stirling by the carse should have been entrusted to Douglas and the Steward, commanding the left division in the line, and therefore nearest to the carse. But the left division lay on lower ground than the others, and Randolph was probably stationed on Coxet Hill, slightly in rear of the general line, while the King held a position rather in advance, on the Borestone Hill.^[15] From the last-named elevation a view can be had of the carse down a hollow in the ground, and, looking down this, Bruce suddenly perceived what trees and rising ground concealed from Randolph on Coxet Hill, namely, a body of English cavalry passing northward beyond the left flank of the Scots.

Instantly the King sent a sharp reproach to his nephew, Randolph, telling him that he had "let fall a rose from his chaplet," and bidding him keep better watch. Randolph, stung by the taunt, proceeded to execute a manœuvre which it would be impossible to understand without Gray's explanation of it. It has generally been supposed that Randolph set out with cavalry to overtake de Clifford; and certainly it would have been a hopeless task to intercept the English horse with foot-soldiers. But in the whole Scottish army there were but 500 cavalry, under the command of Sir Robert de Keith, and these took no part in the fighting on Sunday. The true explanation is to be found in the eagerness of the English knights. De Clifford and de Beaumont were making good progress through the plain between Old Polmaise and Livilands, and, believing that they had escaped observation, saw the way clear before them into Stirling. Suddenly they observed Randolph leaving the wood and moving parallel to them on the higher ground to their left, apparently with his whole division (issist du boys od sa batail).

"Wait a little!" cried Sir Henry de Beaumont, "let them come on; let them out on the plain."

"Sir," said Sir Thomas Gray, "I doubt they are too many for us."

"Look you!" retorted de Beaumont, "if you are afraid you can retreat."

"Sir!" answered Gray, indignantly, "it is not for fear that I shall retire this day" (Sire! pur pour ne fueray ieo huy).

With these words he ranged his horse between de Beaumont and Sir William d'Eyncourt, and charged the Scots. Randolph received the heavy cavalry in the usual formation of a dense oval or square, each front rank man having the butt of his pike firmly planted in the ground between his knees. Charge after charge recoiled from the hedge of steel. D'Eyncourt fell dead at the first onslaught; Sir Thomas Gray's horse was impaled on the pikes, and the rider taken prisoner. His son observes, in his sorrowful narrative, that the Scots had learnt how to fight on foot from the Flemings, who in that manner had discomfited the chivalry of France at Courtray.

When Douglas saw the gallant young Randolph leave the shelter of the wood for the open field, he feared for the advantage that manœuvre would give the heavy cavalry, and he implored the King to let him go to the rescue. Bruce wisely refused to derange his order of battle in presence of the enemy, and forbade him to leave his ground. But whether, as Barbour alleges, the King in the end gave a reluctant consent, or whether, as is more likely, Douglas took matters into his own hands, he led a force to support Randolph. But the work had been done before he could arrive. De Clifford's men had suffered severely in repeated repulses, and were fallen into great disorder, while the Scots still showed an unbroken front—"as ane hyrcheoun"—like a hedgehog. Douglas, unwilling to deprive a young soldier of credit in this affair, halted his men; and the English, finding themselves in the presence of fresh troops, took to flight, some to Stirling Castle, others back the way they came.

This conflict took place on a piece of ground which is still called Randolph's Field, at the south end of Melville Terrace, Stirling. Two large stones, about a hundred yards to the west of the present high road, mark the spot where the Scottish square received De Clifford's charge.

After the double reverse thus inflicted on his arms, Gloucester, finding that he was not supported by the main body of English, abandoned the attack and retreated to Edward's bivouacking ground.

The speeches which chroniclers are wont to put in the mouths of their heroes are not worthy of much credence. No doubt Bruce did address his leaders on the eve of battle, and perhaps to much the same effect as Barbour professes to report verbatim, and as, in later days, it was paraphrased in the stirring verse of Burns. But for historical purposes it would be as idle to dwell on what were supposed to be his actual words, as to accept as authentic the miracle of St. Fillan's arm, recorded by Boece, though on this subject Barbour is prudently silent. It is not, however improbable that the King of Scots did, as was reported, cause this sacred relic to be brought from the priory of Strathfillan, its shrine in Perthshire, into his camp, trusting to its influence, if not on the fortune of war at least on the imagination of his soldiers. The fable may be repeated here from Bellenden's translation of Boece, as an example of the myths which have their birth in ages when the border between faith and superstition is ill-defined.

"All the nicht afore the batall, K. Robert was right wery, havand gret solicitude for the weil of his army, and micht tak na rest, but rolland^[16] all jeoperdeis and chance of fortoun in his mind; and sum times he went to his devoit contemplatioun, makand his orisoun to Sanct Phillane, quhais^[17] arme, as he believit, set in silver, was closit in ane cais within his palyeon^[18]: traisting the better fortoun to, follow be the samin.^[19] In the mene time, the cais chakkit to^[20] suddanlie, but^[21] ony motion or werk of mortall creaturis. The preist, astonist be this wounder, went to the altar quhair^[22] the cais lay; and quhen he fand the arme in the cais, he cryit, 'Heir is ane gret mirakle!' and incontinent he confessit how he brocht the tume^[23] cais in the feild, dredaned^[24] that the rellik suld be tint^[25] in the feild, quhair sa gret jeoperdeis apperit. The king, rejosing of this mirakill, past the remanent nicht in his prayaris with gud esperance of victorie."

Of far greater interest is another incident of this night, reported by Sir Thomas Gray, from the testimony of his father, then a prisoner in the Scottish camp. He says that the Scottish leaders were satisfied that enough had been gained on that Sunday to justify them in beating a retreat without dishonour, before the overwhelming numbers of the English. They had kept the appointed tryst, met and defeated their foes in the open field, and their King had slain the English champion. The requirements of the chivalrous code had been amply satisfied, and Bruce was free once more to resort to his usual strategy of wasting the country and making it impossible for a hostile army to maintain existence therein. But just as they were on the point of abandoning their lines and marching to the wild district of the Lennox, on the west of Stirling, Sir Alexander de Seton, a Scottish knight in the English service, having deserted King Edward's camp, rode to Bruce's tent in the wood, and told him that if ever he meant to be King of Scotland, now was his time: "for," said he "the English have lost heart and are disconcerted; they are dreading a sudden assault." He described the disposition of their forces, and pledged his life that if Bruce attacked them next morning, he would vanquish them without fail.

Barbour is the sole authority for yet another incident of this eventful Sunday evening. David Earl of Athol owed special ill-will to Edward de Brus, the husband of his sister Isabel, because Edward neglected her in favour of the sister of Sir Walter de Ros, whom he loved "per amouris." Athol, therefore, made an attack upon the Scottish commissariat at Cambuskenneth, slaying Sir John of Airth and some of the guards. Lord Hailes assumes that this was a deed of treachery, but it is doubtful if Athol ever was in the service of King Robert. Hailes, without quoting authority, states that he joined the Scottish cause in 1313; but he was under English command at Dundee in 1311,^[26] attended Parliament at Westminster in December, 1312,^[27] and in October, 1314, received lands in England to recoup him for those he had lost in Scotland.^[28] So if he ever joined Bruce, it could only have been for a few months previous to Bannockburn, and, on the appearance of King Edward north of the Border, he attached himself to what seemed the stronger side.

An English chronicler is chiefly responsible for the statement that King Edward's troops passed the night of Sunday 23d in revelry. "You might have seen," says Sir Thomas de la More, "the English in the fore part of the night drunk with wine in manner most unlike the English, belching forth their debauch, and shouting wassail and drinkhail with extraordinary noise. The Scots on the other hand, kept the sacred vigil in fasting and silence, burning with the love of their country and of freedom." This is confirmed by the following doggerel couplet from the poem of one Baston, a Carmelite friar, who accompanied the English army in order to celebrate its triumph. But having fallen prisoner into the hands of the Scots, he proved the versatility of his Muse, and at the same time purchased his ransom, by turning his poem, most of which probably was already in manuscript, into a pæan of victory for the arms of Bruce.

"Dum se sic jactant cum Baccho nocte jocando,
Scotia, te mactant, verbis vanis reprobando."

It was a common thing, as attested by numerous entries in the records, for commanders to serve out liquor to their men before a battle, and perhaps King Robert would have done the like, if he had possessed the means.

If the King of Scots really had decided, as Sir Thomas Gray affirms, to evacuate his position, he changed his mind on receiving the intelligence conveyed by Sir Alexander de Seton, and resolved to await the attack of the English.

At dawn on St. John's day mass was celebrated in the Scottish lines by the Abbot of Inchaffray. Then the men broke their fast, and the King conferred knighthood on James of Douglas and Walter the Steward.^[29] At sunrise, or shortly after, the Scottish army moved out of the woods^[30] and took up the alignment chosen by the King, the divisions being in the formation called "en schiltrome."^[31] The position seems to have been slightly different to that occupied on the previous day,^[32] and it is doubtful if the Borestone Hill was occupied by more than a vedette. The right division, under Edward de Brus, held the higher ground between Gray Stale and New Park, its right flank resting on the Bannock, at the point where its banks become precipitous. The central division, under Randolph, lay along the north-west extremity of Halbert's Bog; and the left division, under the Steward and Douglas, posted on the slopes nearest to St. Ninian's church.^[33] The left and centre lay along the lines now marked by the road between Gray Stale and St. Ninian's. The reserve, consisting of the men of Carrick and Argyll, with the Islanders under Sir Angus of Bute, was held in command of King Robert in person, in rear of the general line. In military language, the whole army was in echelon by the right: that is to say—the centre was thrown back from the right, and the left from the centre. The non-combatants camp-followers, baggage guard, and servants—were sent to the rear, and hidden in a glen on the ground still known as Gillies' Hill.^[34]

While the Scottish divisions were taking up their positions, the English host came in view, making a magnificent and brilliant display in the morning sunlight. Edward's new favourite, Hugh le Despenser, was in his train; not better liked by the barons than the last one, if we may believe Sir Thomas de la More, who alludes to him as vecors ille milvus—that cowardly kite. There were in attendance also several bishops and other ecclesiastics. It is said that King Edward, when he saw the mean array opposed to him, lacking in all the gorgeous heraldry and splendid armour which blazed over his own columns, asked his attendants if these men really meant to fight. There were riding at his bridle the Earl of Pembroke and Sir Giles de Argentine, reputed the third knight in Christendom; but it was Sir Ingelram de Umfraville who made reply, saying that they assuredly would fight, and added the advice that the English should make a feint of retiring, so as to tempt the Scots into pursuit. He knew his countrymen too well to doubt that they would break away from their position as soon as they believed the English were in retreat, in spite of all their officers might do. Once get them out of the formidable "schiltrome" formation and they would be completely at the mercy of the better equipped and mounted English.

But King Edward would none of his advice; he was too proud even to affect to retire before such ragged rabble, and well was it for Bruce that his troops were spared this trial to their steadiness.

"See!" cried King Edward, "am I not right? they kneel for mercy." For at that moment the Abbot of Inchaffray was moving along the front of the Scottish lines, bearing aloft the crucifix, and each division knelt as he passed.

"You speak sooth now, Sire!" said Sir Ingelram, gravely, "they crave mercy, but not from you. It is God's mercy they implore. Those men will never fly: they will win all or die."

"Now be it so!" quoth Edward, who, after all was the son of Malleus Scottorum; "we shall see."

Then he bade the trumpets sound "Advance!"

Now became apparent the sagacity shown by the King of Scots in his choice of position. The ground near Caldan Hill being impracticable, the main advance of the English had to be directed between Parkmill and Charters Hall. A body of 500 men-at-arms under the Earl of Gloucester rode before the nine English divisions, and led the attack on the Scottish right. But owing to the cramped nature of the ground, they could not attempt to deploy, until they were actually on the Scottish line. Moreover, as Sir Thomas de la More mentions, they were thrown into great disarray by the covered pits with which the King of Scots had protected the right of his line. In spite, however, of these difficulties, the English horsemen pressed on, their advance being covered by a cloud of archers, who made their way where the heavy cavalry could not pass. The Scots, ever greatly inferior to the

English in archery, also extended their bowmen; but these were quickly driven in.^[35]

The brunt of the fighting was borne by Edward de Brus's division on the right. While he was resisting the repeated charges of English heavy cavalry in front, the archers swarmed into the broken ground on his right, and poured a galling fire upon his flank. The position was critical. Behind the cavalry, the whole weight of the English columns was pressing forward, though greatly hampered by want of room. In vain the gallant Gloucester strove to break that iron "schiltrome." His horse fell disembowelled by the cruel pikes, and, according to some accounts, it was here this brave knight met a soldier's death. The English could not deploy to their right, because of Halbert's Bog, which protected the Scottish centre; Randolph, therefore, was free to take ground to his right and thereby support Edward de Brus. Still, the Scots were falling fast under the fire of archers; and the moment had come for King Robert to make masterly use of his small body of cavalry under Sir Robert de Keith. He sent that knight with his whole force of 500 horse round the right rear, to take the English archers in flank. Keith was completely successful.^[36] He charged the sharp-shooters with great spirit, scattered them like chaff, and Edward de Brus was free to concentrate his attention on the enemy in front.

By this time King Robert had moved up his reserve into the first line, taking the place vacated by Randolph in closing towards Edward de Brus. The whole ground from Parkmill to the north-west corner of Halbert's Bog, about half a mile square, was crowded with English, rapidly falling into disorder. Wounded chargers plunged madly down among them from the mêlée in front, while the pressure of the advancing columns behind increased every moment. Once more the Scottish archers came into play, this time with murderous effect, and the slaughter on this part of the field was terrific. The splendid English array was getting into hopeless confusion—hopeless, because their immense numbers made it impossible to restore order among them. Men jammed into one mass of living, dead, and dying, cannot obey orders, be they never so clearly delivered. At this critical moment there occurred a circumstance, probably unpremeditated, which decided the fortunes of the day. The camp-followers had been watching the struggle from the security of Gillies' Hill. They had seen the Scottish columns repel Gloucester's cavalry, had heard their victorious cheers, and could discern the tumult in the English ranks. Far from yielding a foot, the divisions of Edward de Brus and Randolph had rather advanced, and the King had led his reserve into the thick of the fighting. Assuredly the field was won, and the moment for plunder had arrived. The rascals sprang to their feet and, waving flags extemporised out of blankets and tent-poles, rushed down the hillside with loud cheers. The English mistook them for fresh troops, and began to give ground; the rearward movement became a rout, the rout a panic, and then a fearful scene of butchery ensued. About a mile and a half from the field, to the south of Bannockburn House, is a place still called the Bloody Fauld, where a body of English rallied and made a determined stand. They all perished. According to some accounts it was here, and not near Parkmill, that Gloucester met his death.

The English King had witnessed the action from the elevation of Charters Hall, nearly opposite the Scottish right. He was very nearly captured. Some Scottish knights, fighting on foot, seized the trappings of his war horse, but Edward stoutly defended himself with his mace, felling several of his assailants.^[37] His horse was disembowelled, but a fresh one was brought up for him, and Pembroke laying his hand on the reins, told him all was lost and that he must fly. Sir Giles de Argentine, his other attendant, said:

"Sire, I was placed in charge of your rein: seek your own safety. There is your castle of Stirling, where your body may be in safety, For myself—I am not accustomed to fly; nor shall I do so now. I commend you to God!"

Setting spurs to his horse, he charged into the thick of Edward de Brus's square, shouting, "Argentine! Argentine!" and fell, pierced with many wounds.

How many of the English rank and file perished on the field will never be known; nor can it be guessed in proportion to the losses among those of gentler degree, because allowance has to be made for the custom of mediæval war, whereby the lives of nobles and knights were tenderly preserved when that was possible, in view of the price that their ransom would bring the captors. The common soldiers received no such consideration. Twenty-one English barons and bannerets were slain, including such renowned commanders as the Earl of Gloucester, nephew of King Edward, the veteran de Clifford, Sir Giles de Argentine, and Sir Edmund de Mauley, the Marshal of England, who was drowned in the Bannock, John Comyn, also, and Sir Pagan de Typtoft. Forty-two knights perished, and sixty were taken; among the slain being Sir Henry de Bohun, Sir John de Harcourt, and Sir Philip de Courtenay. The number of other gentlemen of coat-armour who lost their lives on the Sunday and Monday is put by the English chroniclers at the enormous figure of seven hundred.^[38]

The prisoners taken included twenty-two barons and bannerets, among whom were the Earls of Hereford^[39] and Angus, Sir Ingelram de Umfraville, Sir Thomas Gray, Sir Antony de Lucy, and Sir Thomas de Boutetourt. Sixty knights and several clerics were also among the prisoners. Many of the English of all ranks had sought refuge in the crags of Stirling. King Robert detached a force to dislodge them, on which they all surrendered.

If the statement, commonly accepted by historians, be authentic, that 30,000 perished on the field and in the flight, then about one half of Edward's army must have been slaughtered—an unusual proportion even in the greatest disasters. No doubt the common soldiers fared miserably in their flight. Sir Maurice de Berkeley, in command of the Welsh, led them towards the Border; but the countrymen rose and slew many of them in detail among the moors. Væ victis! the power of England was shattered for the time, and none may reckon the amount of individual disaster.

The King of England rode with Aymer de Valence and a body-guard of five hundred, to the gate of Stirling Castle, and claimed shelter. But Sir Philip de Moubray implored him to hold on his way, for the castle must needs be surrendered, and so the King would fall into the hands of the enemy. Edward set off accordingly, making a detour, probably through the woods to the west of the castle and battlefield, and galloped away for Linlithgow. Sir James Douglas getting word of this, went to King Robert and obtained leave to give chase with sixty horse, which were all that could be spared. On his way he met Sir Laurence de Abernethy with a following of fourscore, hastening to join the English army; who, on hearing news of the great defeat, promptly changed sides, and joined in the pursuit.

King Edward's escort halted at Winchburgh to bait, but it was too strong for Douglas to offer attack. He had to be content with hanging closely on the flanks of the body-guard as far as Dunbar, where the Earl of March opened his friendly gates, and received the King into safety.^[40] From Dunbar Edward escaped in a small boat to Berwick,^[41] whence he published a humiliating document on June 27th, announcing the loss of his signet, of which the keeper, Roger de Northburgh, with his two clerks, had been taken prisoner, and warning all persons against obeying orders issued under it. The King of Scots, however, was a foe too chivalrous to take unfair advantage of his opportunity; he returned the seal to Edward, on condition that it should not be used.

In like manner as Fordun attributed the victory of the Scots to the piety of their King, "who put his trust, not in a host of people, but in the Lord God," and conquered through the help of Him to whom it belongeth to give the victory," so Sir Thomas de la More ascribed King Edward's escape to the direct intervention of the Virgin, "for," says he, "it was not the speed of a horse nor craft of man that delivered the King from his enemies, but the Mother of God whom he invoked. He vowed to her and her Son that, if he escaped, he would build a house for poor Carmelites, dedicated to the Mother of God, to be used by twenty-four students of theology. This vow he afterwards fulfilled at Oxford, and provided the expenses, notwithstanding the remonstrance of Hugh le Despenser." Such was the origin of Oriel College.

De Valence, Earl of Pembroke having seen King Edward safely off the battle-field, did not accompany him in his flight. Probably his horse was killed, for he escaped on foot, and made his way to Carlisle.

There remains to be mentioned the loss suffered by the victors in this great battle. It was insignificant compared with that of the English. The only knights of renown who are known to have fallen were Sir William de Vipont and Sir Walter de Ros. The last-named was Edward de Brus's dearest friend, and the brother of his paramour, Isabel de Ros.^[42]

1. Bain, iii., 66.
2. The Brus, lxxxiv.
3. Lanercost, 223.
4. Lanercost, 224.
5. Bain, iii., Introduction, xxi.
6. Edinburgh Castle had been dismantled after its capture by Randolph the previous summer.—The Brus, lxxxv., 17; Lanercost, 223.
7. This is the mill where James III. was murdered in his flight from the battle of Sauchieburn, in 1488.
8. Buchanan describes calthrops—iron spikes for laming horses—as having been scattered over the ground, but these are not mentioned by earlier writers.
9. Post-prandium.—Lanercost, 225.
10. The Brus, xciv., 115.
11. Scalacronica, 142.
12. Lez ioenes gentz ne aresterent my tindrent lour chemyns.—Scalacronica, 141.
13. Corbuyle, leather greatly thickened and hardened: jacked leather.—Jamieson's Dictionary.
14. Hailes endorses Barbour's figure of 800, but Sir Thomas Gray, whose father rode with de Clifford, mentions only 300. Scalacronica, 141.
15. The perforated stone, whence this hill takes its name, is said to have supported the royal standard during the battle. Most likely it did so on the Saturday and Sunday, for the hill is a fine post of observation; but, as will be shown, the position was somewhat altered before the general engagement.
16. Revolving.
17. Whose.
18. Pavilion, tent.
19. By the same.
20. Closed with a snap.
21. Without.
22. Where.
23. Empty.
24. Dreading.
25. Lost.
26. Bain, iii., 404.
27. Ibid., 59.
28. Ibid., 75.
29. It is difficult to suppose that these two officers, each holding important command in the Scottish army, had remained simple esquires up to this time. No doubt they were knights already, and the further honour now conferred raised them to the rank of knights banneret, which could only be created on the field of battle.
30. "Tuk the plane full apertly."—The Brus, c. 15.

    "Tinrent reddement lour chemyn deuers lost dez Engles." Scalacronica, 142.

31. A military term used by Gray and Barbour to express the formation of infantry in a dense column, which could be turned into a square to resist cavalry by halting, facing the rear ranks to the right-about, and turning the flank sections outwards.
32. In analysing the position of the Scottish army, I have had the advantage of studying a paper drawn up by Major (now General Sir Evelyn) Wood, who critically inspected the ground in 1872.
33. The site of this church is marked by the tower of one erected long after the date of the battle. The building of which this tower formed part, was used by Charles Edward's troops in 1746 as a powder magazine, and blown up by them on their retreat.
34. Meaning "the Servants' Hill"; from the Gaelic giola, a servant.
35. Lannercost, 225.
36. Lord Hailes pronounces Keith's charge to have been decisive of the battle.
37. Scalacronica, 142.
38. Scutiferorum septingentorum.—Walsingham.
39. Taken at Bothwell Castle some days later.
40. Barbour describes the closeness of the pursuit in language so vivid, that Lord Hailes took refuge in Latin to convey the poet's illustration. Perhaps it is obscure enough in its antique English to endure quotation in the original.

    "And he was alwais by them ner,
    He let tham nocht haf sic laser
    As anis water for to ma."—The Brus, cix., 55.

41. Lanercost, 227.
42. Edward obtained a dispensation to marry Isabel de Ros, by whom he had a son Alexander; but it was only dated June 1, 1317 a few months before his death, so it is not likely that the marriage ever took place.