ever against the Scots. He denounced as traitors all who had
participated in the murder of Comyn, and declared that all
persons taken in arms would be put to death. He made great
preparations for subduing Scotland, but while leading his
army into that country, 1307, he died at Burgh-on-the-Sands,
near Carlisle.
Meanwhile Bruce, who ranks with Wallace as a Scottish hero,
had suffered some reverses at the hands of the English.
Under the Earl of Pembroke, in 1306, they took Perth and
drove Bruce into the wilds of Athol. In the same year, at
Dairy, Bruce was defeated by Comyn's uncle, Macdougal, Lord
of Lorn, and escaped to Ireland. But in 1307 Bruce returned
to Scotland and carried on the war against Edward II. The
English were driven out of the strong places one by one; war
alternated with diplomacy through several years; and at last
came a crisis which roused the English government to a
supreme effort.
Stirling castle still held out, besieged by Edward Bruce,
Robert's brother, 1313, but its surrender was promised by
Mowbray, the governor, in the event of his not being
relieved before June 24, 1314. The relieving of Stirling
meant for the English a new invasion of Scotland. On both
sides the strongest efforts were made--on the one side to
relieve the castle, on the other to strengthen its
besiegers. The opposing forces met in battle at
Bannockburn, June 24, 1314, an action which has never been
better described than in this characteristic recital by
Professor Lang.
Bannockburn, like the relief of Orleans, or Marathon, was one of the
decisive battles of the world. History hinged upon it. If England had
won, Scotland might have dwindled into the condition of Ireland--for
Edward II was not likely to aim at a statesmanlike policy of union, in
his father's manner. Could Scotland have accepted union at the first
Edward's hands; could he have refrained from his mistreatment as we must
think it of Baliol, the fortunes of the isle of Britain might have been
happier. But had Scotland been trodden down at Bannockburn, the fortunes
of the isle might well have been worse.
The singular and certain fact is that Bannockburn was fought on a point
of chivalry, on a rule in a game. England must "touch bar," relieve
Stirling, as in some child's pastime. To the securing of the castle, the
central gate of Scotland, north and south, England put forth her full
strength. Bruce had no choice but to concentrate all the power of a now,
at last, united realm, and stand just where he did stand. His enemies
knew his purpose: by May 27th writs informed England that the Scots were
gathering on heights and morasses inaccessible to cavalry. If ever
Edward showed energy, it was in preparing for the appointed Midsummer
Day of 1314. The _Rotuli Scotiæ_ contain several pages of his demands
for men, horses, wines, hay, grain, provisions, and ships. Endless
letters were sent to master mariners and magistrates of towns. The King
appealed to his beloved Irish chiefs, O'Donnells, O'Flyns, O'Hanlens,
MacMahons, M'Carthys, Kellys, O'Reillys, and O'Briens, and to _Hiberniæ
Magnates, Anglico genere ortos_, Butlers, Blounts, De Lacys, Powers, and
Russels. John of Argyll was made admiral of the western fleet, and was
asked to conciliate the Islesmen, who, under Angus Og, were rallying to
Bruce. The numbers of men engaged on either side in this war cannot be
ascertained. Each kingdom had a year within which to muster and arm.
"Then all that worthy were to fight
Of Scotland, set all hale their might;"
while Barbour makes Edward assemble not only
"His own chivalry
That was so great it was ferly,"
but also knights of France and Hainault, Bretagne and Gascony, Wales,
Ireland, and Aquitaine. The whole English force is said to have exceeded
one hundred thousand, forty thousand of whom were cavalry, including
three thousand horses "barded from counter to tail," armed against
stroke of sword or point of spear. The baggage train was endless,
bearing tents, harness, "and apparel of chamber and hall," wine, wax,
and all the luxuries of Edward's manner of campaigning, including
_animalia_, perhaps lions. Thus the English advanced from Berwick,
"Banners rightly fairly flaming,
And pencels to the wind waving."
On June 23d Bruce heard that the English host had streamed out of
Edinburgh, where the dismantled castle was no safe hold, and were
advancing on Falkirk. Bruce had summoned Scotland to tryst in Torwood,
whence he could retreat at pleasure, if, after all, retreat he must. The
Fiery Cross, red with blood of a sacrificed goat, must have flown
through the whole of the Celticland. Lanarkshire, Douglasdale, and
Ettrick Forest were mustered under the banner of Douglas, the mullets
not yet enriched with the royal heart. The men of Moray followed their
new earl, Randolph, the adventurous knight who scaled the rock of the
castle of the Maidens. Renfrewshire, Bute, and Ayr were under the _fesse
chequy_ of young Walter Stewart. Bruce had gathered his own Carrick men,
and Angus Og led the wild levies of the Isles. Of stout spearmen and
fleet-footed clansmen Bruce had abundance; but what were his archers to
the archers of England, or his five hundred horse under Keith the
mareschal, to the rival knights of England, Hainault, Guienne, and
Almayne?
Battles, however, are won by heads, as well as by hearts and hands. The
victor of Glen Trool and Cruachen and London Hill knew every move in the
game, while Randolph and Douglas were experts in making one man do the
work of five. Bruce, too, had choice of ground, and the ground suited
him well.
To reach Stirling the English must advance by their left, along the
so-called German way, through the village of St. Nian's, or by their
right, through the Carse, partly enclosed, and much broken, in drainless
days, by reedy lochans. Bruce did not make his final dispositions till
he learned that the English meant to march by the former route. He then
chose ground where his front was defended, first by the little burn of
Bannock, which at one point winds through a cleugh with steep banks, and
next by two morasses, Halbert's bog and Milton bog. What is now arable
ground may have been a loch in old days, and these two marshes were then
impassable by a column of attack.
Between Charter's Hall--where Edward had his head-quarters--and Park's
Mill was a marge of firm soil, along which a column could pass, in
scrubby country, and between the bogs was a sort of bridge of dry land.
By these two avenues the English might assail the Scottish lines. These
approaches Bruce is said to have rendered difficult by pitfalls, and
even by caltrops to maim the horses. He determined to fight on foot, the
wooded country being difficult for horsemen, and the foe being
infinitely superior in cavalry. His army was arranged in four "battles,"
with Randolph to lead the vaward and watch against any attempt to throw
cavalry into Stirling. Edward Bruce commanded the division on the right,
next the Torwood. Walter Stewart, a lad, with Douglas led the third
division. Bruce himself and Angus Og, with the men of Carrick and the
Celts, were in the rear. Bruce had no mind to take the offensive, and as
at the Battle of the Standard, to open the fight with a charge of
impetuous mountaineers. On Sunday morning mass was said, and men shrived
them.
"They thought to die in the mêlée,
Or else to set their country free."
They ate but bread and water, for it was the vigil of St. John. News
came that the English had moved out of Falkirk, and Douglas and the
Steward brought tidings of the great and splendid host that was rolling
north. Bruce bade them make little of it in the hearing of the army.
Meanwhile Philip de Mowbray, who commanded in Stirling, had ridden
forth to meet and counsel Edward. His advice was to come no nearer;
perhaps a technical relief was held to have already been secured by the
presence of the army.
Mowbray was not heard--"the young men" would not listen. Gloucester,
with the van, entered the park, where he was met, as we shall see, and
Clifford, Beaumont, and Sir Thomas Grey, with three hundred horsemen,
skirted the wood where Randolph was posted, a clear way lying before
them to the castle of Stirling. Bruce had seen this movement, and told
Randolph that "a rose of his chaplet was fallen," the phrase attesting
the King's love of chivalrous romance. To pursue horsemen with infantry
seemed vain enough; but Randolph moved out of cover, thinking perhaps
that knights adventurous would refuse no chance to fight. If this was
his thought, he reckoned well. Beaumont cried to his knights, "Give
ground, leave them fair field." Grey hinted that the Scots were in too
great force, and Beaumont answered, "If you fear, fly!" "Sir," said Sir
Thomas, "for fear I fly not this day!" and so spurred in between
Beaumont and D'Eyncourt and galloped on the spears. D'Eyncourt was
slain, Grey was unhorsed and taken. The three hundred lances of Beaumont
then circled Randolph's spearmen round about on every side, but the
spears kept back the horses. Swords, maces, and knives were thrown; all
was done as by the French cavalry against the British squares at
Waterloo, and all as vainly. The hedge of steel was unbroken, and, in
the hot sun of June, a mist of dust and heat brooded over the battle.
"Sic mirkness
In the air above them was"
as when the sons of Thetis and the Dawn fought under the walls of windy
Troy. Douglas beheld the distant cloud, and rode to Bruce, imploring
leave to hurry to Randolph's aid. "I will not break my ranks for him,"
said Bruce; yet Douglas had his will. But the English wavered, seeing
his line advance, and thereon Douglas halted his men, lest Randolph
should lose renown. Beholding this the spearmen of Randolph, in their
turn, charged and drove the weary English horse and their disheartened
riders.
Meanwhile Edward had halted his main force to consider whether they
should fight or rest. But Gloucester's party, knowing nothing of his
halt, had advanced into the wooded park; and Bruce rode down to the
right in his armor, and with a gold coronal on his basnet, but mounted
on a mere palfrey. To the front of the English van, under Gloucester and
Hereford, rode Sir Henry Bohun, a bow-shot beyond his company.
Recognizing the King, who was arraying his ranks, Bohun sped down upon
him, apparently hoping to take him.
"He thought that he should dwell lightly,
Win him, and have him at his will."
But Bruce, in this fatal movement, when history hung on his hand and
eye, uprose in his stirrups and clove Bohun's helmet, the axe breaking
in that stroke. It was a desperate but a winning blow: Bruce's spears
advanced, and the English van withdrew in half superstitious fear of the
omen. His lords blamed Bruce, but
"The King has answer made them none,
But turned upon the axe-shaft, wha
Was with the stroke broken in twa."
"_Initium malorum hoc_" ("This was the beginning of evil"), says the
English chronicler.
After this double success in the Quatre Bras of the Scottish Waterloo,
Bruce, according to Barbour, offered to his men their choice of
withdrawal or of standing it out. The great general might well be of
doubtful mind--was to-morrow to bring a second and a more fatal Falkirk?
The army of Scotland was protected, as Wallace's army at Falkirk had
been, by difficult ground. But the English archers might again rain
their blinding showers of shafts into the broad mark offered by the
clumps of spears, and again the English knights might break through the
shaken ranks. Bruce had but a few squadrons of horse--could they be
trusted to scatter the bowmen of the English forests, and to escape a
flank charge from the far heavier cavalry of Edward? On the whole, was
not the old strategy best, the strategy of retreat? So Bruce may have
pondered. He had brought his men to the ring, and they voted for
dancing. Meanwhile the English rested on a marshy plain
"_outre_-Bannockburn" in sore discomfiture, says Gray. He must mean south
of Bannockburn, taking the point of view of his father, at that hour
captive in Bruce's camp. He tells us that the Scots meant to retire
"into the Lennox, a right strong country"--this confirms, in a way,
Barbour's tale of Bruce suggesting retreat--when Sir Alexander Seton,
deserting Edward's camp, advised Bruce of the English lack of spirit,
and bade him face the foe next day. To retire, indeed, was Bruce's, as
it had been Wallace's, natural policy. The English would soon be
distressed for want of supplies; on the other hand, they had clearly
made no arrangements for an orderly retreat if they lost the day; with
Bruce this was a motive for fighting them. The advice of Seton
prevailed; the Scots would stand their ground.
The sun of Midsummer Day rose on the rite of the mass done in front of
the Scottish lines. Men breakfasted, and Bruce knighted Douglas, the
Steward, and other of his nobles. The host then moved out of the wood,
and the standards rose above the spears of the soldiers. Edward Bruce
held the right wing; Randolph the centre; the left, under Douglas and
the Steward, rested of St. Ninian's. Bruce, as he had arranged, was in
reserve with Carrick and the Isles. "Will these men fight?" asked
Edward, and Sir Ingram assured him that such was their intent. He
advised that the English should make a feigned retreat, when the Scots
would certainly break their ranks--
"Then prick we on them hardily."
Edward rejected his old ruse, which probably would not have beguiled the
Scottish leader. The Scots then knelt for a moment of prayer, as the
Abbot of Inchafray bore the crucifix along the line; but they did not
kneel to Edward. His van, under Gloucester, fell on Edward Bruce's
division, where there was hand-to-hand fighting, broken lances, dying
chargers, the rear ranks of Gloucester pressing vainly on the front
ranks, unable to deploy for the straitness of the ground.
Meanwhile, Randolph's men moved forward slowly with extended spears, "as
they were plunged in the sea" of charging knights. Douglas and the
Steward were also engaged, and the "hideous shower" of arrows was ever
raining from the bows of England. This must have been the crisis of the
fight, according to Barbour, and Bruce bade Keith with his five hundred
horse charge the English archers on the flank. The bowmen do not seem to
have been defended by pikes; they fell beneath the lances of the
mareschal, as the archers of Ettrick had fallen at Falkirk. The Scottish
archers now took heart, and loosed into the crowded and reeling ranks of
England, while the flying bowmen of the south clashed against and
confused the English charge. Then Scottish archers took to their steel
sparths--who ever loved to come to hand strokes--and hewed into the mass
of the English, so that the field, whither Bruce brought up his reserves
to support Edward Bruce on the right, was a mass of wild, confused
fighting. In this mellay the great body of the English army could deal
no stroke, swaying helplessly as southern knights or northern spears won
some feet of ground. So, in the space between Halbert's bog and the
burn, the mellay rang and wavered, the long spears of the Scottish ranks
unbroken and pushing forward, the ground before them so covered with
fallen men and horses that the English advance was clogged and crushed
between the resistance in front and the pressure behind.
"God will have a stroke in every fight," says the romance of Malory.
While the discipline was lost, and England was trusting to sheer weight
and "who will pound longest," a fresh force, banners displayed, was seen
rushing down the Gillies' Hill, beyond the Scottish right. The English
could deem no less than that this multitude were tardy levies from
beyond the Spey, above all when the slogans rang out from the fresh
advancing host. It was a body of yeomen, shepherds, and camp-followers,
who could no longer remain and gaze when fighting and plunder were in
sight. With blankets fastened to cut saplings for banner-poles, they ran
down to the conflict. The King saw them, and well knew that the moment
had come: he pealed his ensenye--called his battle-cry--faint hearts of
England failed; men turned, trampling through the hardy warriors who
still stood and died; the knights who rode at Edward's rein strove to
draw him toward the castle of Stirling. But now the foremost knights of
Edward Bruce's division, charging on foot, had fought their way to the
English King and laid hands on the rich trappings of his horse. Edward
cleared his way with strokes of his mace; his horse was stabbed, but a
fresh mount was found for him. Even Sir Giles de Argentine, the best
knight on ground, bade Edward fly to Stirling castle. "For me, I am not
of custom to fly," he said, "nor shall I do so now. God keep you!"
Thereon he spurred into the press, crying "Argentine!" and died among
the spears.
None held his ground for England. The burn was choked with fallen men
and horses, so that folk might pass dry-shod over it. The country people
fell on and slew. If Bruce had possessed more cavalry, not an Englishman
would have reached the Tweed. Edward, as Argentine bade him, rode to
Stirling, but Mowbray told him that there he would be but a captive
king. He spurred south, with five hundred horse, Douglas following with
sixty, so close that no Englishman might alight, but was slain or taken.
Laurence de Abernethy, with eighty horse, was riding to join the
English, but turned, and with Douglas, pursued them. Edward reached
Dunbar, whence he took boat for Berwick. In his terror he vowed to build
a college of Carmelites, students in theology. It is Oriel College
to-day, with a Scot for provost. Among those who fell on the English
side were the son of Comyn, Gloucester, Clifford, Harcourt, Courtenay,
and seven hundred other gentlemen of coat-armor were slain. Hereford
(later), with Angus, Umfraville, and Sir Thomas Grey, was among the
prisoners. Stirling, of course, surrendered.
The sun of Midsummer Day set on men wounded and weary, but victorious
and free. The task of Wallace was accomplished. To many of the
combatants not the least agreeable result of Bannockburn was the
unprecedented abundance of the booty. When campaigning Edward denied
himself nothing. His wardrobe and arms; his enormous and apparently
well-supplied array of food wagons; his ecclesiastical vestments for the
celebration of victory; his plate; his siege artillery; his military
chests, with all the jewelry of his young minion knights, fell into the
hands of the Scots. Down to Queen Mary's reign we read, in inventories,
about costly vestments "from the fight at Bannockburn." In Scotland it
rained ransoms. The _Rotuli Scotiæ_, in 1314 full of Edward's
preparation for war, in 1315 are rich in safe-conducts for men going
into Scotland to redeem prisoners. One of these, the brave Sir Marmaduke
Twenge, renowned at Stirling bridge, hid in the woods on Midsummer's
Night, and surrendered to Bruce next day. The King gave him gifts and
set him free unransomed. Indeed, the clemency of Bruce after his success
is courteously acknowledged by the English chroniclers.
This victory was due to Edward's incompetence, as well as to the
excellent dispositions and indomitable courage of Bruce, and to "the
intolerable axes" of his men. No measures had been taken by Edward to
secure a retreat. Only one rally, at "the Bloody Fauld," is reported.
The English fought widely, their measures being laid on the strength of
a confidence which, after the skirmishes of Sunday, June 23d, they no
longer entertained. They suffered what, at Agincourt, Crécy, Poitiers,
and Verneuil, their descendants were to inflict. Horses and banners, gay
armor and chivalric trappings, were set at naught by the sperthes and
spears of infantry acting on favorable ground. From the dust and reek of
that burning day of June, Scotland emerged a people, firm in a glorious
memory. Out of weakness she was made strong, being strangely led through
paths of little promise since the day when Bruce's dagger-stroke at
Dumfries closed from him the path of returning.
EXTINCTION OF THE ORDER OF KNIGHTS TEMPLARS
BURNING OF GRAND MASTER MOLAY
A.D. 1314
F. C. WOODHOUSE H. H. MILMAN
The quarrel between Philip the Fair of France and Pope
Boniface VIII, concerning the taxation of the clergy, and
the right of nomination to vacant bishoprics within the
dominions of Philip, had far-reaching effects. It led, in
1302, to the convocation of the first properly so-called
Parliament in France, to offset the actions of the Pope, who
excommunicated the King; and also to an expedition into
Italy of a small body of French troops which made the Pope
prisoner at Agnani, but were subsequently expelled with
great loss of life. The Pope was reinstated, but died
shortly afterward from brain fever; he was succeeded by
Benedict XI, whom the King of France sought to placate, but
unsuccessfully. Within nine months Benedict died, presumably
from poison, and Philip, by his intrigues, was enabled to
secure the election to the pontificate of Bertrand de Goth,
who became pope as Clement V, and was pledged to the service
of the French King.
Philip, who had obstructed the operations of commerce by
debasing the coin of the realm to meet the exigencies of the
state, was always in want of money. His cupidity was excited
by the wealth of the order of Knights Templars, and,
emboldened by his successes over the spiritual power, he now
entered upon the career of intrigue which resulted in the
destruction and plunder of the order.
The famous Order of the Temple of Jerusalem, founded in 1118
by a small band of nine French knights, sworn to protect
Christian pilgrims to the Holy Sepulchre, had become, in
almost every kingdom of the West, a powerful, wealthy,
semimilitary, semimonastic republic, governed by its own
laws, animated by the closest corporate spirit, under the
severest internal discipline, an all-pervading organization,
independent alike of the civil power and of the spiritual
hierarchy.
During two centuries as crusaders, the knights fought
valiantly and shed their blood in defence of the Sepulchre
of our Lord, earning the devout admiration of Western
Christendom, and receiving splendid endowments of lands,
castles, and riches of all kinds as contributions to the
cause of the holy wars.
But despite their valor, Mahometan persistency prevailed,
and the total expulsion of the Templars, with the rest of
the Christian establishments from Palestine, followed the
downfall of Acre in 1291.
F. C. WOODHOUSE
The loss of Palestine led indirectly to the ruin of the order of the
Templars. The record is one of the dark episodes of history, encompassed
with contradictions, full of surprises, painful to contemplate, whatever
view may be taken, whichever side espoused.
It is difficult to understand how an order of men who for nearly two
hundred years earned the thanks and praise of Christendom for their
bravery and devotion; who had shed blood like water to defend the places
dearest to all Christian hearts; who had been recruited from the noblest
families in every country in Europe, and had had princes of royal blood
in their ranks; who claimed to act upon the purest and most exalted
Christian principles; and who proved the sincerity of their professions
by their lives of self-sacrifice, and their deaths, for the cause they
had taken up; who had been honored and favored and dowered with gifts
and privileges, in gratitude for their exploits--should suddenly have
fallen into the blackest crimes. So it is no less difficult to
understand how public opinion should turn against them as it did, and
how all Europe should set itself to disgrace and despoil, to malign and
execrate, those who had so long been its favorites and its champions. It
is not easy to understand this, and it is painful to read the story in
its sad and miserable details.