FALKIRK AND BANNOCKBURN
In 1290 Margaret of Norway, the infant queen of Scotland, died, and
a difficult question arose as to the succession to her. Edward I. of
England had made it the chief object of his policy to strengthen and
consolidate his power within the island. To this end he made Parliament
a permanent institution, truly representative of the nation as then
constituted, though it was not very willingly that he concurred in
limitations of his prerogative at the hands of Parliament, which he
had systematised, if not created. To this end was directed much of
the legislation which is his highest title to fame. To this end he
had conquered Wales, and taken the first steps towards incorporating
it with England. Now he had an opportunity of uniting Scotland to his
own kingdom (he had made plans already for effecting this through a
marriage between his heir and the little Maid of Norway), at any rate
of making his influence paramount in Scotland.
National prejudices have very naturally coloured the views of
historical writers, especially on the Scottish side, who have discussed
the right and wrong of the conflict that ultimately ensued. There
is no need to enter deeply into the controversy, but it is safe to
say that neither party was entirely in the wrong. The English kings
had for centuries had some kind of superiority over Scotland, but it
dated back to times when feudal theories had not been formulated;
and it is clear that Edward I. claimed too much when he asserted his
right to be feudal suzerain over Scotland in the widest sense. On
the other hand the Scots could not honestly maintain that he had no
rights at all over it, as being an independent kingdom. The question
of the succession was a thorny one in every way. There was not, and
could not be, any written law on the subject: all the claimants were
remotely related to the royal house: all of them whose claims could
be seriously pressed, even in an age when ideas on such matters were
vague, were nobles of Norman descent, having lands in England as well
as in Scotland. Edward on being called in to award the crown required
all concerned to acknowledge him as feudal overlord. The competitors,
already personally his subjects, naturally made no objection, and if
any was made by others, their voice was drowned. Edward awarded the
crown to John Balliol, the person who had the best claim according to
the legal principles now fully recognised. Difficulties soon arose: the
new king's subjects appealed against him to the king of England, which
they had a right to do if the king of Scotland was in the full sense
vassal, but not otherwise. Edward entertained the appeals, asserting
to the very utmost his feudal authority, till the patience of John
Balliol was overtaxed. Taking advantage of a quarrel between England
and France,[14] John Balliol repudiated his allegiance to Edward; the
latter, caring infinitely more for Scotland than for his dominions over
sea, let things take their chance in Guienne, and returned to make war
on Scotland. His success was easy and complete: Balliol was declared to
have forfeited his kingdom, which the lord paramount took into his own
hands. At first there was no opposition; there existed in the country
a considerable amount of patriotic feeling, but there were no leaders,
until one suddenly appeared in William Wallace. Personal injuries
received from English soldiers led to his taking up arms, but he was
welcomed as a leader by such elements in the Scottish people as cared
for their independence, and he justified their confidence. The English
forces in Scotland were but small, and Wallace had time to organise
resistance on a large scale before he was called on to face an invading
army.
A glance at the map[15] will show how completely Stirling is the
military centre of Scotland. The firths of Forth and Clyde indent the
country very deeply on the east and west, almost dividing it into two
parts. Hence Stirling, the lowest point where the Forth is bridged, and
commanding the entrances into Fife, into the basin of the Tay, and into
the western Highlands, is of primary importance. Here Wallace defeated
in 1297 the army first sent against him; at Falkirk not far off he was
defeated in the next year; at Bannockburn, within sight of Stirling
Castle, was fought the great battle of 1314, which virtually achieved
Scottish independence.
Wallace was a born soldier, as he proved alike by his easy victory
of Cambuskenneth, and by his dispositions for meeting king Edward's
superior force at Falkirk. The Forth flows through the plain, from
above Stirling till it opens into the estuary, in many loops and
windings; there was then but one narrow bridge across it, leading
from close to Stirling to the abbey of Cambuskenneth, which stands in
one of the loops on the eastern bank. When Wallace learned that his
enemies were approaching, he posted his men on a bold steep hill known
as the Abbey Craig, which is in fact the extreme south-western spur
of the Ochil hills. The English leaders, ignorant of their business
and despising their opponents, began crossing the river to attack him.
Wallace waited till a considerable portion of the English had crossed,
and were crowded together in a loop of the Forth, and then led his men
down to attack. It was rather a butchery than a battle: the English on
the east of the Forth, outnumbered, unable to take order, devoid of
any way of retreat, could make no effectual resistance. The numbers
given in the chronicles are probably excessive: it is most unlikely
that the earl of Surrey should have had 50,000, or Wallace 40,000 men:
but under the conditions it is obvious that Wallace could choose his
time, so as to have a decisive superiority to that portion of the enemy
which alone could encounter him. The slaughter of the defeated side
in a hand-to-hand battle was always great, and Cambuskenneth was no
exception. The earl of Surrey had never crossed the fatal bridge; but
among other Englishmen of note who fell, was Cressingham, the king's
treasurer for Scotland, who was much hated for his exactions. "And
so," says the chronicler, "he who had terrified many with the sword of
his tongue was himself slain with the sword: and the Scots flayed him,
and divided his skin into little bits, _non quidem ad reliquias, sed ad
contumelias_."
In consequence of this victory, Wallace was recognised as guardian of
the kingdom in the name of the fugitive John Balliol, and governed
Scotland with some success for the time. Edward I. fully understood
the wisdom of doing things thoroughly, and when he next year invaded
Scotland, came with an overwhelming army. It took him some time to
capture Berwick, and during the siege Wallace contrived to leave
Lothian bare of inhabitants and of food. His hope was to baffle the
invaders by preventing their finding sustenance or guidance. Two
Scottish nobles are said to have sent word to Edward where his enemy
was, but it is hardly likely that this would have been so serious a
difficulty as the lack of food, which rendered abortive, at one time
or another, several invasions of Scotland on a large scale. Obviously
Wallace must fight at or near Stirling, if not sooner, or else retire
into the wild country of the north, which meant giving up all the
valuable parts of Scotland to the English king. His numbers were far
below those of his enemy: his only chance lay in skilful arrangements
for defence. He selected a piece of sloping ground near Falkirk, where
a small stream, running at that part through very soft and boggy
ground, covered his front. The mass of his soldiers were spearmen,
and these he drew up in four circular masses, the front rank sitting,
with their spear-butts resting on the ground. The intermediate spaces
were occupied by the archers, who were neither efficient nor very
numerous; and the mounted men-at-arms, very few in comparison with the
English array, were drawn up in rear. One chronicler adds that Wallace
addressed to his men the somewhat grim jest, "I have brought you to the
ring; hop gif ye can." He had done all that a skilful commander could
do: but the result was a foregone conclusion unless king Edward was
guilty of some gross blunder.
When the English army came in sight of Wallace's position, the king
desired that they should rest and eat before attacking; but his
knights, perhaps remembering Cambuskenneth, represented that it
was not safe to do so, with the Scots so near at hand. The first
"battle," apparently consisting entirely of men-at-arms, commanded
by the earl Marshal, accordingly advanced to the attack, found the
stream impassable, and had to make a wide circuit to the left. The
second division, under the warlike bishop of Durham, saw the obstacle
and turned it on the right. Seeing how far the earl Marshal had to
go, the bishop tried to check the impetuosity of his men, till the
king with the third "battle" should be at hand to support them; but
Ralph Basset rudely told him that he had better attend to his own
business of saying mass, and not interfere in military matters. The
bishop was a better judge than the knight; the men-at-arms rode down
the Scottish archers, and easily defeated the small body of horse, but
they could make little impression on the spearmen. The latter could
not charge without breaking their order, but they could and did stand
on the defensive till the English archers came up. Then it was soon
all over with them: the arrows made gaps in their ranks, through which
the horsemen charged, breaking up their formation, and slaughtering
them in thousands. Wallace drew off the relics of his army towards the
Highlands, and from that time practically disappears from history.
Partisanship has always dealt eagerly with his name: the contemporary
English chroniclers call him _latro_, the Scots exalt him into an
ideal patriot hero. The truth would seem to be that, while by no means
superior to his age in humanity, he gave evidence of real ability and
integrity in his very difficult post as guardian of Scotland; moreover,
he exhibited exceptional military skill.
Wallace's "schiltrons," to use the Scottish name for his great clumps
of spearmen, were in truth an important advance in the art of war;
and though they were not in fact a novelty, they were no doubt a real
invention on his part, for it is scarcely conceivable that he should
ever have heard of the Macedonian phalanx. The natural formation for
men armed with spears is close together, in line, the ranks being drawn
up one behind the other, two, four or more deep. Such a line can hold
its own against attacks in front, and can advance: but if it is once
broken it can be destroyed, and it is almost helpless if its flank is
turned. This was substantially the sole order of battle during the
palmy days of Greece. Philip of Macedon improved upon it by forming
the phalanx, a solid square of pikemen, who faced outwards in case of
need, and could not therefore be taken in flank. The phalanx moved
slowly, and hardly at all over rough ground; and it obviously had no
power of vigorous attack. Hence in its turn it was beaten by the Roman
legionaries, who threw their heavy _pila_ from a short distance, and
then charged sword in hand. With the fall of the Roman Empire the
military art, like all others, had suffered eclipse in western Europe;
and though the Anglo-Danes with their axes and shields had reproduced
in some sense the Roman tactics, yet from the day of Hastings, when
they went down before the feudal horsemen of the Normans, the mailed
chivalry had been everywhere dominant. The political preponderance
of the feudal nobility was partly cause, partly effect, of their
military supremacy. They alone could procure, for themselves and their
following, the armour which rendered them almost invulnerable to the
ill-armed foot-soldier: the contempt they felt for the villein and the
trader seemed justified by the facility with which they could slaughter
the lower classes in the field. Slowly the pike reappeared on the
scene, in the hands of peoples who were not over-ridden entirely by
feudalism, and who had to defend themselves against men-at-arms. It is
Wallace's most undoubted title to fame, if not his highest glory, that
he was the first to organise plebeian spearmen afresh, not indeed for
victory,[16] but with success as against mailed horsemen only. It was
the combination of archers with the men-at-arms which won Falkirk for
king Edward, just as the same combination had won Hastings for William
the Norman. The great difference lay in the fact that in times wholly
feudal the credit of the victory of Hastings went entirely to the
knights, whereas Edward I. was wiser: from the day of Falkirk onwards
the archers became more and more the mainstay of an English army.
England has been destined in three wars to experience the truth that a
country whose people refuse to submit to invaders cannot practically
be conquered, however superior may be the invaders in military skill
or resources: in a fourth war she helped the Spaniards to exemplify
the same maxim. Between England and Scotland at the beginning of the
fourteenth century no comparison was possible; the southern people
were wealthier, more numerous, better organised. Yet the war begun
by Wallace's brief career ended in the establishment of Scottish
independence. So also the French had no chance in the field against
the English of Edward III. and Henry V.; yet the English attempt at
conquering France ended in total failure. The little English armies won
nearly every engagement against the revolted American colonists; yet
the task of subjugating the colonies would have been hopeless, even if
other enemies had not assailed England, and hastened the catastrophe.
Edward I. won a great victory at Falkirk, but he never was able to
subdue Scotland. Just before his death the Scots found a new leader in
Robert Bruce, representing the house rival to the Balliols at the time
of the disputed succession and now accepted instead of them, who was
duly crowned king. Edward's death stopped a great invasion of Scotland,
and his incompetent son neglected Scottish affairs, till gradually the
whole country was lost except Stirling Castle. This was, as has been
pointed out, the most important post in Scotland: but it could not be
held indefinitely, and the governor ultimately agreed to surrender
unless relieved before Midsummer day 1314. Edward II. was driven for
once into activity, and approached just in time, with an army to which
the chroniclers ascribe the incredible number of 100,000 men. Robert
Bruce had no choice but to await attack at Stirling: if he marched to
meet his enemy, it was obvious that the English might evade him and
reach Stirling unopposed. They might even, with their great superiority
of numbers,[17] engage him on more than equal terms, and have plenty to
spare to be pushed forward to Stirling. Fortunately for him, he had an
admirable position ready to his hand within a very short distance.
About 2½ miles south of Stirling a small stream, the Bannockburn,
flows from west to east, and then curving northwards flows into the
Forth. Between it and Stirling lay the king's park, in which the
Scottish army camped. The position chosen for receiving battle was
immediately behind this stream. Bruce, who was comparatively weak in
horsemen, had to depend, like Wallace, mainly on his spearmen for
receiving the charge of the English men-at-arms. Barbour's long-winded
poem on the life and acts of Robert Bruce, from which is derived
the traditional account of the battle, contains sundry picturesque
incidents, the truth of which need not be doubted, though he indulges
in a vast amount of patriotic exaggeration. He does not, however, give
the details in a form which renders the battle really intelligible. For
instance, he describes minutely the "pots," round holes a foot broad
and as deep as a man's knee, covered over with sticks and grass all
green, which were intended to break the charge of the English horse.
But he does not say where, relatively to the army, these pots were:
nor does he mention them as having answered their purpose. An English
chronicler, Baker of Swinbrook, describes a ditch, three feet deep
and wide, as having been dug along the whole front, and covered over
with hurdles and grass, into which the first line of the English fell;
and the confusion thus occasioned involved the defeat of the English.
Neither refers to the burn as having been any obstacle; Barbour indeed
mentions houses having been pulled down by the English, with the
timbers of which they made bridges over certain pools, but he does not
say where the pools were. It is possible that as the battle was fought
at midsummer, and Barbour lays great stress on the intense heat, the
marshy ground on the north of it was unusually dry and firm; otherwise
it is not obvious why Bruce should have wanted either pots or ditch.
The English host, marching from the direction of Linlithgow, came in
sight of the Scottish position in the afternoon of June 23. When they
were about two miles off, a body of 800 men-at-arms under Clifford
was sent forward to try and pass by the left of the Scottish army,
between it and the lower course of the burn, so as to reach Stirling
Castle. Had this attempt succeeded the castle might have been said to
be relieved in time to save the promised surrender: and it was within
an ace of succeeding. Thomas Randolph, earl of Moray, Bruce's nephew,
commanded on the Scottish left; and it was only on Bruce's express
order, telling him that a rose had fallen from his chaplet, that he
hastened with a body of spearmen to place himself, just in time, across
their path. The spearmen formed a clump, like a hedgehog with all his
spikes out, and the English horsemen were unable to break their array.
James of Douglas, seeing that Moray was very hard pressed, asked the
king's permission to go to his assistance. Bruce for the moment allowed
his chivalrous instincts to overcome his judgment as a general, and
wished to leave Moray to take his chance, but on Douglas urging him
consented. On the approach of reinforcements, the English saw that the
opportunity was lost, and retired. Douglas, in the true spirit of the
age, abstained from pursuit, lest he should rob Moray of any of the
glory of having repulsed them.
Edward II., on coming fully in front of the Scots, ordered a halt, but
the order was not made known in time to prevent some of the vanguard
from coming into collision with them. According to the fashion of the
time, Sir Henry Bohun rode out in advance, and seeing Bruce in front of
his line charged at him. The king was mounted on a pony, but did not
avoid the combat, as in any age when a commander was not a knight first
and a general afterwards he certainly would and ought to have done, and
killed the Englishman. The story goes that the Scottish lords, having
better sense than their king, blamed him for having risked his life,
which might have meant the ruin of every one, and that Bruce's sole
answer was that he was sorry he had broken his battle-axe. The English
vanguard, on seeing the issue of this duel, retired again without
coming into serious collision with the Scots, and doubtless feeling the
omen to be a bad one.
Next morning early the battle commenced in earnest, and the authorities
are hopelessly at variance as to what happened. Barbour describes the
attack of the English men-at-arms on the Scots in their position, with
severe fighting which ended in their defeat. Incidentally he mentions
Sir Robert Keith having charged into the flank of the English archers
with five hundred men armed with steel that on light horse were horsed
well, and having totally discomfited them so that they did not shoot
any more. But he does not say where the archers were posted, and as he
declares there were 52,000 of them, it is simply impossible to accept
his story. More than one English chronicler says that the English front
line was formed of archers and spearmen, with the mounted men-at-arms
behind: but they do not explain what became of the front line. It
has been suggested as an explanation that the archers were so far in
advance of the men-at-arms that the Scottish horse were able to charge
and disperse them before they were supported: but this is scarcely
possible, as the whole English array was too near. Baker of Swinbrook
says that the archers were in the second line, and as he carefully
adds that it was a great mistake not placing them on the flanks of the
men-at-arms, as was done afterwards, his informant may be presumed
to have noted the point. According to his account, which is the most
intelligible and coherent, the English men-at-arms charged straight on
the Scottish front, were thrown into utter confusion by the front rank
falling into Bruce's concealed ditch and the hinder lines pressing on,
and were slaughtered helplessly by the Scots, who reserved only the
rich for ransom. The archers seeing the disaster, tried to shoot over
their heads; but many of them, in the excitement of battle shooting
straight to their front, "struck a few Scots in the breast and many
English in the back." The crush and hopeless confusion will be all
the more intelligible when it is remembered that the space occupied
by the Scots was far too narrow to give room for the charging masses,
who consequently impeded and overthrew each other. The fight was still
going on, when over the little hill above the Scottish right, which
has ever since been known as the Gillies' hill, appeared the "yeomen
and swaynes" of the Scottish army, who had rigged up an apology for
banners, so that they seemed to the English to be a large reinforcement
to the Scots, coming to take them in flank. A panic seized that portion
of the army which was not engaged, and they fled in confusion, the king
himself following their example.
Whatever uncertainty may hang over the details, there is no doubt
about the completeness of the victory. The number of the slain may
well have been large, seeing how the knights and men-at-arms were
crowded together in a confused mass, incapable of resistance. The
gross incompetence of Edward II. or his advisers, who with all the
material for victory in their hands, and the precedent of Falkirk to
guide them, threw their advantage away, was responsible for the defeat.
Their hasty flight was also probably the cause of the dispersion in
panic rout of the whole English host, a disgrace which has never since
fallen on an English army. According to Barbour, the king with his
immediate attendants sought shelter in Stirling Castle, and was refused
admittance by Mowbray the governor, who pointed out that the castle
could not hold out long, now that the English army was defeated, and
that therefore the king's only chance of safety lay in making off.
How Edward could possibly have made his way round to Stirling Castle,
with the victorious Scots between him and it, can with difficulty be
imagined. The advice, however, if ever given, was sound as far as it
went. Better judgment still would have bidden him rally his host, for
even after the defeat he must still have greatly outnumbered the Scots.
But if he had been capable of taking this obvious and soldierlike step,
he would not have committed the folly which lost the battle.
The victory of Bannockburn virtually gained the cause of Scottish
independence, though fourteen years had yet to elapse before England
acknowledged it by treaty. That the Scots fully deserved to win their
independence, and that they had a right to win it if they could, no one
in modern times will deny. No impartial reader of history can doubt
that in some sense they had been dependent on England before the war,
or that the exaggerated claims of Edward I. gave reasonable ground for
repudiating them entirely. Whether the success of the Scots was for
their permanent benefit is another question. The union of the whole
island into one kingdom was, it may be fairly said, inevitable sooner
or later. Scotland must needs have gained enormously in all material
respects by incorporation with her more advanced neighbour. Had this
taken place before centuries of political antagonism and repeated wars
had developed national hatred, and quickened into a passion Scottish
national feeling, the union would have been easier and more thorough.
With Scotland added, instead of permanently hostile, the weight of
England in the European scale, already great, would have been much
increased, with consequences impossible to calculate. At the same time
the world would have been the poorer for the loss of the distinctive
character, which was developed in the Scots mainly through their
separate Reformation.
INTERMEDIATE NOTE
THE LONG-BOW
The long-bow is like many other inventions which have played a great
part in history: its origin is obscure. The bow in some form is almost
as old as the human race; but it on the whole was regarded as the
weapon of inferior soldiers, down to near the time when the invention
of gunpowder was destined to render it altogether antiquated. We have
seen that the Norman archers at Hastings, skilfully used, contributed
greatly to the victory: but the evidence of the Bayeux Tapestry may
be taken as conclusive that these bows were only the short bows of
the ancient world. Richard I., the only really warlike king between
the Conqueror and Edward I., took pains to introduce the cross-bow,
then a comparatively new weapon.[18] It is incredible that the ablest
soldier, as Richard undoubtedly was, even of an ignorant age, should
have preferred the cross-bow to a weapon which could beat it at every
point. Hence we must conclude that the feats of archery attributed
to Robin Hood, Richard's contemporary, were reflected back upon his
memory from a later time, when such feats were no longer impossible.
In the Barons' War the archers play no important part; but in the
course of the reign of Edward I., the long-bow came into general use.
Edward used his archers with such effect at Falkirk, that it may fairly
be inferred that he had long before seen the value of the long-bow
and taken steps to foster the use of it, though even then they were
employed as an afterthought, to help the horsemen, who alone could not
break the Scottish spears. There is nothing like clear evidence as to
the locality which developed the long-bow, which not only exceeded
the older bows in size and power, but was used in a different manner,
though there are slight indications suggesting that South Wales had
that honour. At any rate in the fourteenth century it was the familiar
and trusted weapon of the English, the instrument of their great and
repeated victories.
Archery, as an amusement, has lost much of its popularity of late
years, being superseded by other sports which demand less space and
afford more active exercise. Probably however every Englishman, if a
bow were put into his hands, would instinctively draw it more or less
in the right fashion, whether he has ever seen an arrow shot off or
not. That is to say he would hold it upright, and draw the string back
on his right side, standing himself sideways. Before the introduction
of the English long-bow, all archers held their bows more or less
horizontal, and drew the string to their bodies. The advantages of
the English method are probably obvious: at any rate the briefest
experiment will render them so. First, a much longer bow can be drawn
to the side than to the breast, which enables a longer and therefore
more powerful arrow to be used. Secondly, a much stronger bow can be
pulled in that way, which means greater penetrating force. Thirdly,
if the long-bow is drawn correctly, the arrow is brought up close to
the right ear, which enables the archer to look along the arrow, and
aim it with considerable accuracy, whereas obviously no arrow drawn to
the breast could be really aimed. Practice makes perfect, in archery
more than in many other things: the English archers of the fourteenth
century practised assiduously, and attained corresponding proficiency.
The regular practising distance was a furlong,[19] which implies that
arrows discharged at a high elevation would travel much further.
In fact we find "a bow shot" used as a rough measure of distance,
equivalent to about 400 yards. If they struck armour obliquely, of
course they would be likely to glance and not penetrate; but it
required the very best steel to stop an arrow which struck full and
true. Add the fact that a trained archer could shoot with astonishing
rapidity, so that the arrows in their flight dazzled and bewildered the
enemies at whom they were aimed, and still more their horses: and we
have the picture of a missile weapon unequalled till the introduction
of the rifle.
Why the long-bow should have remained, as in fact it did, the
exclusive property of the English, is a mystery. It is true that
archers could not stand alone: they required the assistance of troops
differently armed, to protect them against determined attack by mailed
horsemen in adequate numbers. It is true also that the long-bow needed
considerable muscular strength for using it; and the average Englishman
had probably the advantage in this respect over the average Frenchman,
then as now. But Lowland Scots are to all intents and purposes of
the same race, yet they went on generation after generation losing
their fights large and small against the English, chiefly through the
archers, yet never learning to shoot. The explanation may perhaps be
that among all who came to feel the power of the clothyard shaft,
feudal pride was too stubborn to be taught quickly, so that gunpowder
was coming into use before they had digested the lesson. Whatever the
cause, the fact is certain that the English kept their monopoly of the
long-bow, and consequently were, for a century at least, supreme on the
field of battle.