THE CRISIS
Before describing my adventures in the North of England, I must pause
in my narrative to explain how the Scots, in time of truce, happened
to make that sudden inroad into England which alarmed the country,
startled the court, excited the capital, and caused Queen Philippa to
remove from Windsor to York.
It was when the first Edward was king, and when Philip the Fair reigned
in France, that the chiefs of the house of Capet, as sovereigns of
France, began to encourage that deadly hate of the Scots towards
England which speedily proved productive of so much mischief to both
countries; and Philip of Valois, on assuming the French crown, did not
fail to imitate the example which, in this respect, his predecessors
had set. From the time of the battle of Halidon Hill to the year when
King Edward--exasperated, as he well might be--embarked for Flanders,
promises of aid, and supplies of arms and warlike stores, kept the
Scots in insurrection, and encouraged them in their stubborn resistance.
But such a policy could not be long pursued with impunity; and Philip
ought early to have discovered that, in his case, it was not to be
pursued with impunity. In any case, the loss of his navy at Sluys, and
the loss of his army at Cressy, would have taught an ordinary man that
the dishonest policy which he was practising was sure to bring still
greater disasters in its train. But he was incapable of profiting by
experience.
At the time when the princes and the chivalry of France were trodden
down at Cressy, the crown of Scotland was worn by David Bruce, son of
the conqueror of Bannockburn; and at that time he was about the age of
twenty-three, and eager to signalise himself by some such exploits as
had made his father celebrated throughout Christendom. But, with such
a king as Edward III. on the English throne, this was by no means an
easy matter, either in England or Ireland; and perhaps the royal Scot
might long have talked, without attempting, had he not been tempted by
the representations of his continental ally to undertake the expedition
which, in the autumn of 1346, caused so much alarm throughout England.
It appears that when King Edward marched his victorious army to Calais,
and sat down before that city with a determination to take it ere
leaving, Philip of Valois perceived the impossibility of contending
single-handed with such an adversary. In his desperate circumstances,
the vanquished Frenchman was not likely to forget the existence of the
King of Scots; and, having prevailed on David Bruce to invade England,
as the likeliest means of drawing off part, at least, of the English
forces from the siege of Calais, and sent men to aid and money to
encourage the Scots in their enterprise, he awaited the result with
confidence.
No time was lost by the young King of Scots in carrying the project
into execution. A Parliament having been hastily held at Perth, and the
Scottish magnates having sanctioned a war, their king drew together a
numerous army, and, about the opening of October, entered England by
the West Marches. A mighty host it was, all things considered, that
marched under his standard. Three thousand men-at-arms, knights, and
esquires; thirty thousand men on geldings and galloways; and a large
body of Genoese and French auxiliaries; such was the army at the head
of which David Bruce and his earls and barons came over the Border, to
avenge the defeat of Cressy, and to save the city of Calais.
Much was the mischief which the Scots wrought, and great was the terror
which they spread around. It seemed that the days of Randolph and
Douglas had returned, and that the Scots were again, year after year,
to wreak their savage fury on the Northern counties. Men bent their
brows and clenched their hands, and women wept and children wailed,
as they fled from their homes to the woods and mountains, to avoid
invaders, many of whom knew little of mercy, not, perhaps, even the
name.
Commencing operations at the castle of Liddel, the Scots took that
stronghold, put the garrison to the sword, and beheaded Walter Selby,
the governor, in their king's presence, without so much as suffering
him to be confessed. This done, they pursued their way through
Cumberland and the southern parts of Northumberland, ravaging and
burning; and, still spreading desolation as they went, they advanced
towards the city of Durham. So far their march had been unopposed, and
they had had it all their own way. At this stage, however, an army
not to be daunted by superior numbers frowned defiance and demanded
revenge. Not only Lord Neville and Lord Percy, but Baliol, Moubray,
D'Eyncourt, and De Roos were there to bar the way; and at the head of
the force they had mustered was the queen herself--the wife and mother
of heroes--whose presence inspired every man there with the resolution
to fight with the courage and energy of two.
In fact, Philippa no sooner heard that the Scots were preparing to
invade England than she hastened to York, and summoned all the peers
and prelates who were in the country to meet in the capital of the
North. With their counsel and aid she did wonders, and soon found
herself at the head of an army numbering scarce more than a third of
the invaders, it is true, but composed of men making up in discipline
and valour what they lacked in numbers, and eager to rival the
achievement by which their countrymen, fighting on the Continent, had
acquired so much fame.
At the head of this formidable force the queen marched to Durham; and,
while the English lay in Auckland Park, she, in the city of the same
name, awaited the coming of the Scots, who, flushed with a success to
which, in recent years, they had been little accustomed, regaled their
imaginations with the anticipation of a triumphant issue to their
adventurous enterprise.
It cannot be said that the patience of the English was put to any
severe test. The reverse was the case; for the march of the invaders
had been rapid; and on Friday, the 16th of October, the Scottish
vanguard came near the town, and skirmished with some parties of
English who were abroad.
The Scots fell back, however, on the main army, and, in retiring,
burned some hamlets. The smoke and the flames exasperated the English,
and the soldiers demanded to be led to battle. But on this point their
chiefs were, fortunately, discreet enough not to gratify their wish.
Neville and Percy were leaders of sapience, and Baliol, who had been
once King of Scots, well knew, from experience, how to deal with men of
the nation he had ruled.
"No," answered they in reply to the shouts of the soldiers. "Nothing
must be done rashly, especially in the absence of our lord the king;
for such is the crisis we are approaching, that we hazard, not only our
own lives, but his realm."
As the day passed on, however, messengers from David Bruce came to say
that, "if the English were willing to come forth, he would wait for
them and give them battle."
"Tell those who sent you," was the reply, "that we accept the offer,
and that we will not keep our enemies long waiting."
On receiving this message, the King of Scots, who had previously
encamped in the park of Beaurepaire, drew out his army on Durham Moor,
and, setting his men in order for battle, formed them into three
battalions. He himself commanded the centre host; on his right were
Lord Douglas and the Earl of Moray; on his left was the High Steward
of Scotland--all warriors whose fathers had followed the fortunes, and
participated in the triumphs, of his hero-sire.
Having thus arrayed his men, the King of Scots retired to Beaurepaire,
and awaited the coming of Saturday to encounter his foes.
In vain Lord Douglas recommended him to retire to the woods, and
retreat without an engagement.
"No!" exclaimed the king with disdain. "We are the sons of the men who
conquered at Bannockburn, and by St. Andrew! we are bound to prove
that we have inherited the valour which they so often displayed on the
crests of foemen."
And so, within a few miles of the armed foes, who had sprung from
hamlet, and grange, and castle to repel his invasion, the young king
lay down to rest, all eagerness for the hour when he was to try his
fortune at the game of carnage.
Nor was there much danger of his patience being severely tried; for the
crisis of his fate had arrived.