very strong, Edward was hopeful of bringing the expedition to a
successful termination. No measure was omitted for the securing of the
object in view, and a powerful fleet from the Cinque ports followed
the army with supplies of stores and warlike material. The walls of
the fortress being so low that the warriors at the base could exchange
stroke of lance with the defenders of the ramparts, Edward prepared to
carry the place by assault, no doubt remembering the feat of his great
sire in 1296, when he rode his good steed Bayard over ditch and wall,
and commenced the work of pitiless slaughter with his own strong right
hand.
Bruce, equally determined to retain the place, had appointed his
gallant son-in-law, Walter, the high-steward of Scotland, to the
command of the town and castle. The garrison was reinforced by 500
volunteers, all gentlemen, friends and relations of the steward.
Provisions to serve for a year having been laid up, the gallant Scots
awaited the course of events.
However sanguine Edward of Cærnarvon may have been, he certainly
exhibited all reasonable prudence before Berwick, and, before
commencing active operations, caused his camp to be strongly
fortified. When the hour of attack arrived, the valiant Scots who
manned the walls of Berwick found they had a double danger to meet, as
the English mariners were bringing up one of their largest ships,
which was crowded with soldiers, who clung to the masts, rigging, and
spars, ready to leap upon the ramparts, as soon as the sailors brought
up alongside the walls, and got the vessel in position with their
grappling irons. As the vessel drew near, gleaming with steel, and
presenting a most formidable appearance, she suddenly took the ground,
and in a moment all was confusion, the mariners straining every nerve
to get her off into deep water again. All these attempts proving in
vain, and as the vessel lay stranded at ebb-tide, she was set on fire
by the Scots, and consumed, to the great elation of the garrison, and
equally to the disgust of the English.
While this exciting incident was being enacted, Edward was furiously
assaulting the town from the land, sending his fierce stormers, who
were abundantly supplied with scaling ladders, to the attack by
thousands, and covering their advance by the incessant discharge of
his archers, whose long and deadly shafts swept the ramparts like a
hail-storm. But the Scots met the storm with indomitable bravery,
fringing their walls with glittering pikes, hurling down showers of
missiles upon the enemy, casting down their ladders, and sending their
heavy axes through the iron skull-caps of the stormers before they
could make good their foot-hold upon the ramparts. After long hours of
stubborn and sanguinary toil, Edward withdrew his troops to the
shelter of their entrenchments, and both parties rested after their
severe and exhausting toil: but at the base of the walls, and upon the
bloody ramparts many brave men slept their long death-sleep.
Untamed by their repulse, the English soldiers prepared to renew their
efforts, and set to work upon the construction of a huge military
machine called a "Sow": this was framed of solid timber, and moved
upon heavy rollers, the roof sloping and affording an efficient
protection to the soldiers who toiled with pick and spade beneath its
cover, intent upon undermining the walls of the beleaguered hold. The
"Sow" was especially dangerous to the Scots in the present case, for
the whole length of the walls being exposed to repeated assaults, they
were so completely outnumbered that they were unable to spare any
considerable number of men to guard against its action, and should
once a breach be effected in the walls it would be impossible to
arrest the pressure of Edward's stormers, who kept the hardy Scots
fully employed even while their ramparts were intact.
When the English engineers levelled the ground, and wheeled the heavy
machine against the walls, and the miners were waiting, pick in hand,
to fall to work, the contending warriors awaited the result with equal
anxiety and interest. Berwick was indebted for its safety to the
labours of a Flemish engineer named John Crab, who had prepared a huge
catapult for the purpose of hurling heavy missiles against the
terrible "Sow," and, as it approached the wall, he discharged a huge
mass of rock against it. The flight of the missile was regarded with
the utmost interest by both parties, but it failed to strike the
machine, and a second discharge was equally inoperative, and the "Sow"
now drew near the walls, amid the exulting shouts of the besiegers;
but Crab had now obtained a better idea of the power of his catapult,
and, calculating the distance to a nicety, sent a large piece of rock
upon the mid-roof of the doomed "Sow." The massive stone went
thundering and crashing through the solid timber, and, as cries of
rage and dismay burst from the English troops, the miners came rushing
wildly from the ruined machine, and sought to gain the trenches, while
the Scots sent their arrows and missiles after them, exclaiming, in
grim mockery and exultation, "Behold, the English sow has farrowed!"
The Scots were inspired by their success, the English aggravated by
repeated disappointments and repulses, and the conflict necessarily
waxed fiercer, Crab working his military engines with great vigour,
hurling showers of missiles upon the assailants, and giving the
unlucky "Sow" its _coup de grace_ in the form of a quantity of blazing
and highly inflammable material, which quickly set it on fire. Amid
the tumult of the assault it continued to burn, sending up showers of
sparks and dense volumes of smoke, until it was reduced to ashes.
The English fleet was brought up to second the efforts of the
stormers, but John Crab had so many cranes and springals in position,
and hurled his huge copper-winged darts, heavy iron chains, and
grappling hooks, and bundles of ignited tow, saturated with pitch,
with such unfailing precision that the commanders were fairly daunted,
and, fearing to involve the fleet in utter destruction, drew off, and
the Scots, thus opportunely relieved, directed their undivided
attention to the repeated assaults of the enemy.
During those hours of murderous strife the grand steward was passing
from point to point with a reserve of 100 men, and wherever he found
the garrison hardly pressed he succoured them with a few men, and
animated them by his example and exhortations; and where the slaughter
had been especially heavy he made good the loss from his fast
diminishing reserves. The conflict was at its height, and the steward
had done all that he could to strengthen the sorely-pressed garrison,
only one soldier remaining in attendance upon him, when the startling
news was brought that Edward's warriors had destroyed the barriers at
St. Mary's gate, which they were endeavouring to burn down.
Hastily collecting a band of warriors, he pressed forward to the
threatened point, passing numbers of young lads and fearless women
busily engaged in collecting the missiles thrown over the walls by the
enemy, and on approaching the scene of peril, he commanded the gate to
be thrown open, and charging through the flame and smoke at the head
of his brave followers he fell upon the assailants, sword in hand, and
after a fierce conflict drove them off, restored the defences, and
made fast the door again. The conflict ended in the utter repulse of
the English forces, nevertheless the garrison was sorely thinned and
exhausted, so that unless it was augmented by reinforcements, or some
diversion was made in its favour, but little prospect of maintaining
the fortress remained.
It was the policy of Robert Bruce never to risk a battle with his
powerful enemies, and although sorely tried by the dangerous state to
which Berwick was reduced, he maintained his resolution, but attempted
a diversion by despatching Douglas and Randolph with 15,000 men to
make a raid upon the northern shires of England, and, if possible, to
fall upon York, and carry off Queen Isabella, who there awaited the
issue of the campaign, imagining that she was secured from all peril
by her distance from the theatre of war and by the strong walls of the
city.
The Scots were not slow in carrying out the instructions of King
Robert, but crossed the Solway, and made a rapid march upon York, only
to find that their project had been discovered, and the Queen's escape
secured. It appears that a Scottish spy had fallen into the hands of
the English, and confessed,
"how our enemy, James Douglas, with a chosen band of men, would
come to these parts in order to carry off the Queen, and those
whom he should find resisting should be killed at the same
time."
The danger of Queen Isabella, whose character was then
unimpeached, aroused all the loyal energies of the Archbishop and
Mayor of York, and hastily collecting a body of armed men, they made a
rapid march to secure her majesty's safety, and caused her to be
conveyed by water to Nottingham.
The attempt to draw Edward from the siege of Berwick by threatening
the safety of his queen having failed, the Scottish captains
proceeded to carry out the second part of their programme with the
utmost energy, and giving loose to their wild passion for burning and
plundering, they wrought terrible mischief upon the northern towns and
villages, as though determined to extort from King Edward the heaviest
price for the fortress of Berwick, should he decide to maintain the
siege, in spite of every obstacle, until it fell into his hands.
Deeply touched by the distress of the peasantry, the Archbishop of
York, William de Melton, and the Mayor, Nicholas Fleming, attempted to
organise an army, and check the depredations of the Scots, who had
carried their wild riders to the gates of York, and set the suburbs on
fire.
Perhaps history can furnish no more rash undertaking than this:
Randolph and Douglas were cool and experienced captains, and ferocious
soldiers; the troops they commanded were veterans, accustomed to
victory, and experienced in the hardships and toils of the field; men
who could only be approached by tried and steady soldiers, and who
were not likely to yield the palm to the flower of the English army.
To meet these, the Archbishop had to rely upon burghers and peasants,
men little accustomed to the use of arms, and entirely deficient in
military training, and for whom no competent leaders could be found.
No lack of energy was shown by the Archbishop and Mayor, and the hasty
and untried levies responded to their exhortations with equal zeal.
There was no time to prepare the volunteers for the ordeal, no
opportunities for testing their courage in skirmishes, for training
them to advance upon such dangerous enemies as the Scots, or to retire
before them in good order if they found them too strongly posted to be
attacked with any prospect of success.
As though to compensate all physical defects by an extraordinary
weight of spiritual influence, the numbers of the army were augmented
by many priests, who are supposed to have been brought together at
York for the celebration of the feast of St. Matthew.
Ten thousand men were all that the Archbishop could bring into the
field, and with these he marched after the Scots, who prepared to
receive his attack at "Myton Meadow, near the Swale water," supposed
to be a large field, at that time unenclosed, and situate some three
miles east of Boroughbridge, just above the confluence of the rivers
Ure and Swale, and in the immediate locality of the obscure village of
Myton.
Half the army of Douglas and Randolph would probably have sufficed to
worst the English in fair and open field, but the Scots commanders had
been long accustomed to foil the English by ambuscades and surprises,
the fatal English archers, and their usual superiority in numbers,
necessitating the utmost caution on the part of the Scots when
engaging with their formidable Southern foes; and on this unfortunate
day the Scots prepared an ambush, which was certain to foil the onset
of the English, and to cast them into that confusion which ends in
panic where undisciplined troops are concerned.
On the English approaching the bridge across the Swale, the Scots, or
more probably an advanced division of them, feigned a retreat, drawing
the Englishmen within the toils of an ambush, that was prepared for
their destruction. To ensure their more complete defeat, they were
permitted to cross the bridge, and while pushing on, no doubt in some
uncertainty, they were suddenly involved in dense clouds of smoke,
which, drifting before the wind, veiled the movements of the enemy.
The Scots had fired three haystacks, and were coming furiously down
upon their enemies under cover of the smoke, having concentrated their
forces "after the manner of a shield." Before the onset was delivered,
the Scottish army separated into two divisions, and uttering their
dreadful battle-cry, one division threw itself between the English and
the bridge, cutting off every prospect of retreat, while the other
charged full upon the Archbishop's troops.
Confused by the drifting smoke, the dreadful war-cries of Douglas and
Randolph, the English troops were so completely taken by surprise that
they were half-beaten before a blow was struck. With no regular troops
to maintain the van and rear, and give them steadiness by example, and
without leaders to form them in the best way to meet the charging
enemy into whose hand they were so rashly delivered, the confused mass
of Englishmen were held at utter disadvantage. With steady charge the
Scottish spearmen bore down upon them, the billmen and swordmen rushed
upon their ranks like a tempest, and the men-at-arms taking them in
the rear, a bloody massacre ensued. Utterly unable to maintain their
ranks, hurled upon each other by the furious charges of the enemy,
smitten, broken, trampled under foot, the English, after a vain
attempt at defence, broke, and sought to secure their safety by a
headlong flight. Beset on every side, followed close by the victors,
cut off from the bridge, the wretched troops lost all heart, and,
seized with panic, thought not of attempting to make a stand against
their enemies, but turned all their energies to secure their escape. A
scene of dreadful carnage followed: the Scots were pitiless in their
triumph, and cut down the fugitives with remorseless activity. The
English vainly attempted to cross the Swale, and dreadful and tragic
scenes took place on the bank and in the waters of the river. The
fugitives who hesitated to cast themselves into the water fell by the
sword of the pursuer, and of those who attempted to pass the river
about a thousand were drowned. The approach of night alone saved the
army from utter destruction, and the total loss was computed at nearly
4,000 men, of whom 300 were priests, arrayed in full canonicals, but
who were put to the sword with merciless severity by the Scots, who
lost few men themselves, and treating the slaughter of the churchmen
as a pleasant joke referred to the battle as the Chapter of Mitton. It
was fought on the 13th, September, 1319.
Sir Nicholas Fleming, who was serving as Mayor of York for the seventh
year, was slain on the field. The pursuit was close, but the
Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Ely, although hardly pushed,
succeeded in effecting their escape. The Archbishop's cross was among
the missing, however, the cross-bearer having secreted it in the hope
of preserving it from the Scots; but a peasant finding it by chance
was tempted to conceal it in his hut for some days, when the pricking
of his conscience becoming too severe he penitently restored it to the
rightful owner.
The loss of the Scots was insignificant, but the churchyard of Myton
received a huge and ghastly burthen of slain Yorkshiremen. The corpse
of Sir Nicholas Fleming was tenderly cared for, and buried in the
church of St. Wilfred, York, the citizens deeply lamenting the loss of
their patriotic mayor, for the repose of whose soul special provisions
were made by the Archbishop.
From the bloody field of Myton the hardy Scots pursued their way
triumphantly to Castleford, where they crossed the river Aire, and
proceeding through Airedale, Wharfedale, and Craven, bore off many
captives and much plunder, entering Scotland in safety.
VII.--BATTLE OF BOROUGHBRIDGE.
A.D. 1321.
On the 1st of July, 1312, a dark and tragic deed was enacted on the
gentle eminence of Blacklow, where the Avon winds through a calm and
peaceful scene. The sun shone brightly on the flashing waters of the
river, on the summer foliage of wood and grove, and on the polished
steel mail of armed men, for the English barons, Arundel, Lancaster,
and Hereford, were actors in the tragedy, and their banners waved from
the ranks of numerous men-at-arms, pikemen, and archers, for at
length, by mingled violence and guile, they had won into their own
hands the life of the King's favourite, and him they now called upon
to conclude the drama of life with what spirit and courage he could
command for so trying an occasion. Then stood forward the handsome and
talented young knight, the favourite of his unhappy monarch, hurried
by rough hands to the fatal block, and the grim headsman performed
his unholy office, striking off the head of Piers Gaveston, sometime
Earl of Cornwall, and--with all his faults--an accomplished knight,
deserving of a better fate.
Chief of the self-constituted judges who thus presumed to rid
themselves of a personal enemy, was Thomas Earl of Lancaster, the
grandson of Henry the Third, and the most potent noble in the whole
realm of England. To this exalted person, a prince of many virtues,
Gaveston had humbled himself, and pleaded, but vainly pleaded, for
mercy. Lancaster could not forgive the gibes of his fallen enemy. The
"stage-player" and "old hog" now held the life of the offender in his
hands; his proud heart indignantly remembered the shame and
mortification of that day when, in the lists of the tournament, his
haughty crest was abased to the very dust, as the lance of the upstart
Gaveston hurled him from his saddle. So Lancaster avenged himself for
defeat and unmerited insult, and the rude barons declared that he had
done well.
But Edward of Cærnarvon remembered the deed of shame, and waited, as
weak and gentle-minded men will sometimes wait, until circumstances
should enable him to demand of Lancaster a full reckoning for the
blood that had been shed. In the first bitterness of his wrath he
attempted to meet the barons in the field, but they were too powerful
for so unwarlike a monarch as Edward to contend with, and being averse
to endanger the peace of the Kingdom by attacking the King in his own
person, they submitted to his clemency, and were restored to favour.
Persuaded to pardon the crime Edward would not legalize it by
declaring Piers Gaveston a traitor, although importuned to take this
step by the most powerful of the barons.
Time passed, and all men forgot the Gascon knight Piers Gaveston, or
only remembered him to blame his follies and exult in the sharp and
sudden punishment that overtook him.
After the triumphs achieved by Edward the I. in his attempts to
subjugate Scotland, and destroy its national life by ruthlessly
slaying her patriots with the soldier's sword or the headsman's axe,
it was with extreme bitterness that the English endured the
humiliation of defeated armies and invaded provinces. They had taken
to the sword, and when that sword fell from the hands of Edward at
Burgh-on-Sands it was seized by Randolph and Douglas, and mercilessly
it was used, until in the invaded, blood-stained Northern provinces
of England the fear and hatred of the Scots became a passion, and he
was indeed a bold or foolish man who presumed to enter into
negotiations with the national enemy.
Naturally King Edward's hold upon the loyalty of his subjects was
weakened by the Northern troubles, for the stubborn English mind
regarded the red-handed crimes of the father as the virtuous
enterprise of a great monarch, and contrasted with his success the
feeble efforts of his son: it was the glory of Berwick and Falkirk
contrasted with the disasters of Bannockburn and Berwick: it was the
ravaged, outraged Scotland of the first Edward contrasted with the
wasted and blood-stained Northumbria of the second Edward.
So troubles thickened around the life-path of Edward of Cærnarvon. His
authority was subverted, and so low had he descended in the estimation
of his feudatories, that Queen Isabella was denied admission into the
King's Castle of Leeds, in Kent, then held by the Lord of Badlesmere,
under his majesty's authority, and for his majesty's use. The Queen's
attendants naturally insisted upon being admitted, and endeavoured to
force their way into the castle, when the garrison proceeded to
extremities, and several of her majesty's suite were slain. This
high-handed proceeding of Badlesmere caused a revulsion of feeling in
favour of the King, and availing himself of the transient emotion, he
gathered together a powerful army. For once his actions were
energetic, and his blows fell heavily. He took Badlesmere prisoner,
and loaded him with chains, at the same time inflicting a heavy and
well-merited punishment upon his lawless vassals. He made an
unexpected visit to the Lords of the Marches, and captured and hanged
twelve knights. Like all weak-minded men he knew no moderation in the
hour of success, and presumed more upon a transient advantage than a
great monarch would have done if successful in the utter destruction
of a hostile party.
This sudden change in the royal fortunes alarmed the barons, and many
made submission; but Edward cast them into prison, and seized their
castles. Great Lancaster was now sorely discomposed, and learned, too
late, to fear the monarch whose authority he had so openly slighted.
It had been long suspected that this potent noble had entered into a
confederacy with the Scots, to avert the doom which would probably
overtake him if deserted by the English barons, or defeated by the
royal forces. The time had now arrived when it was necessary to call
in the national enemy to his rescue; and in this crisis of his
fortunes he openly avowed his unpatriotic measures, took up arms, and
urgently appealed to the King of Scotland for assistance. Before those
redoubtable warriors, Moray and Douglas, assembled their men-at-arms
and pikemen, the promptitude of Edward had prevailed.
Finding that he could not maintain himself against King Edward until
succoured by the Scottish reinforcements, Lancaster marched northward,
and was joined by the Earl of Hereford. This accession of strength did
not, however, enable him to assume the offensive, although it
encouraged him to make a stand at Burton-upon-Trent, where he took up
a position that commanded the bridge, in the vain hope of holding the
royal forces at bay, and of receiving reinforcements from the
disaffected barons.