BURNT CANDLEMAS
It was said of the first Edward, that, while figuring conspicuously
between a weak father and a wilful son, he needed no such foils to set
forth his real worth; that, personally as well as intellectually, he
towered above his fellows; that his step was another man's stride; that
he was most judicious in all his undertakings, being equally wise to
plot as valiant to perform; that, under Divine Providence, he was happy
in success, at sea and on land, at home and abroad; and that, in all
his actions, he proved himself capable of governing, not England only,
but the whole world. Moreover, it is said that he was so fortunate with
his sword at the opening of his reign, that, ere the close, he awed all
his enemies with his scabbard, and the renown of his exploits; and if
the praises bestowed on the first Edward cannot, on all points, with
justice be rendered to the third, it is due to the memory of the hero
of Halidon and Cressy to say that, after passing the thirty-fifth year
of his life, he was one whose name was so terrible to his enemies--both
French and Scots--that they would no more have thought of facing him
in pitched battle than they would have thought of encountering his
illustrious grandsire.
It was, therefore, with sensations the reverse of agreeable that
the guardian and chief men of Scotland learned that Edward had
reached Roxburgh with a formidable force. In fact, supposing that
the king would shirk the hardships of a winter's campaign north of
the Tweed, and anticipating that, after restoring the fortifications
of Berwick, he would return to his capital, they drew to a head, and
prepared, as soon as he turned his face southward, to renew their
predatory incursions. On finding how much they were mistaken in their
calculations, they resolved on leaving the country to its fate, and
withdrawing, with what valuables they could remove, to the region lying
beyond the Firth.
But, in order to carry their plan into execution, the Scots felt that
it was necessary to gain time, and with this view they resorted to a
device which did them little credit. In fact, they deliberately sent
ambassadors to the king at Roxburgh, with proposals from Lord Douglas
and other nobles to treat about submitting to his authority; and,
having by this trick obtained a respite of hostilities, they employed
the time in laying waste the country, and in accomplishing their
removal to what was a place of comparative safety. Having done so, they
were mad enough to exasperate the king by sending him a defiance.
It was rashly done, as the event proved too clearly. No sooner did
Edward discover the trick that had been played upon him than he
expressed the utmost indignation; and, when he received the message of
defiance, his anger was fierce. Arraying his army in three divisions,
the king left Roxburgh, with the banner of Scotland displayed before
him, and a determination to make the country which had defied his
power feel the weight of his hand. Advancing as far as Edinburgh, he
there halted, and, indulging in the expectation that the guardian and
Scottish nobles would pluck up courage to give him battle, awaited
their coming; but those patriotic magnates, having exposed their
countrymen to the utmost peril, thought only of their own safety, and
left others to suffer, as they best could, all the horrors of war.
Meanwhile, the plight of Edward was not enviable. No provisions were
to be had for love or money, and the fighting men of England, who when
at home never drank water save by way of penance, had no other drink
for fifteen days. Still, the king had the prospect of supplies; for his
fleet, laden with provisions and necessaries, was expected to arrive in
the Firth. But the elements proved hostile to the invaders. A violent
storm arose, and the wind, blowing from the north, drove back and
dispersed the ships so effectually, that the English lost all hope of
being relieved by sea, and indicated a decided wish to turn their faces
towards Berwick.
By this time, indeed, matters had reached such a stage that Edward had
no alternative; and he gave orders for a retreat. Accordingly the army
began its march southward, and the Scots had every prospect of getting
rid of the invaders on cheap terms. But they had not learned to leave
well alone. Day by day, and night by night, the retreating army was
harassed by small parties; and so dexterous were the Scots in this
kind of warfare, that not an Englishman could straggle from the ranks
without the certainty of being cut off.
The king, whose blood now boiled with rage, expressed the utmost
resentment; and, no longer making any effort to keep his temper, he
discharged his wrath on the country through which he passed. Every town
that lay in his way, whether great or small, was given to the flames;
every village was reduced to ashes; and, for about twenty miles from
the sea-coast, the country for a long period bore such traces of the
conflagration, that the Scots have continued to describe the February
of that season as Burnt Candlemas, in memory of the devastation which
the English then wrought, while departing in anger from a land which
they could not conquer.
For a time the Scots appeared bent on retaliation; and during the
winter, notwithstanding Copeland's vigilance, they set many a
Northumbrian village in a blaze. But the year was fruitful of events of
which they little dreamt when, at the instance of John of Valois, they
mounted their horses, fought at Nisbet Moor, and seized upon Berwick.
Ere Candlemas again came round great changes had occurred, and the
continental ally to whom they had been so servile was too poor to
bribe, and too powerless to succour. It was now February, and before
October a great battle had been fought, and a great victory had been
won, which prostrated the energies of France, daunted the ferocious
spirit of Scotland, and rendered England even more celebrated than
before, not only throughout Christendom, but among the Saracens and
the nations of the East, as the cradle of heroes and the nursery of
conquerors.
And there arose circumstances in considering which the Scots deemed
it prudent to refrain from inroads, and Edward, even if he had felt a
wish, had no occasion to chastise their audacity. Never, indeed, after
the spring of 1356, did the king engage in war with that obstinate
and refractory nation. It is possible that, even at that period, and
while pursuing the enterprise, he was tired of struggles which could
not be brought to a satisfactory issue; and that he was in reality
bidding "Farewell to Scotland" when he left them to celebrate a "Burnt
Candlemas."