against the crown had operated forcibly upon the reasoning faculties
of Edward's violent and restless barons, and they prudently kept their
steeds in stall, and swords in scabbard, leaving Lancaster and
Hereford, with their band of adherents, to make the best of their
quarrel with the King, alone, and unaided, unless they could succeed
in reaching the Scottish border and forming a junction with the Scots
under Randolph and Douglas. It would have fared ill with the nation if
Lancaster's design had succeeded, for although Robert Bruce was too
wise a monarch to attempt to annex any of the English territory, being
satisfied to strictly maintain the integrity of the Kingdom of
Scotland, yet Lancaster might have involved the nation in the
distractions of a wide-extending civil war, for placed in so desperate
a position he would necessarily have urged the Scots to press any
advantage that their arms might have achieved, and although the
resistance of the English would have been the rising of the nation
against a foreign invader, yet Lancaster might have succeeded in
winning over some of the barons, especially as Edward knew not the art
of attaching them to his interests, but was possessed of an unhappy
facility in disgusting them by his too-obvious lack of the qualities
necessary to a great prince in the middle ages.
Lancaster failed in his proposed operations, and was obliged to beat
a hasty retreat to secure himself from the advancing royalists. On the
16th March he approached Boroughbridge, to find it defended by the
Warden of the Western Marches, Sir Andrew Harcla, and the Sheriff of
Yorkshire, Sir Simon Ward. The crisis had come: but the conflict was
not to win a sceptre, or a protectorship, but to escape from the axe
and block wherewith traitors were requited for their misdeeds in the
days of the Plantagenets.
In happier and more fortunate times Earl Lancaster had bestowed the
accolade of knighthood upon Andrew Harcla, and he now endeavoured to
induce the loyal knight to make common cause with him against King
Edward. Harcla was too prudent a man to take so rash and ruinous a
step, and Lancaster drew up his soldiers to attempt to force the old
wooden bridge, which spanned the river Ure.
The hasty levies which Harcla and Ward had called to arms consisted
largely of northern archers, famous for their skill with the bow, and
they were strongly posted at the head of the bridge. To ford the river
was impossible, it being sixty yards wide at that part; to follow the
course of the river and seek to cross at some other point, with Ward
and Harcla marching _en rapport_ on the opposite side of the river,
and with the royal troops nigh at hand, closing in upon their rear,
was to risk an almost inevitable and irremediable disaster.
Lancaster's one path to freedom was by the storming of the bridge, and
they accordingly prepared for their last passage-at-arms.
The archers were ordered forward to clear the bridge, and a deadly
trial of skill commenced; the long, keenly-barbed shafts sweeping like
a hail of death from end to end of the bridge: in a moment the dead
lay thick at either end, and the brave and determined archers of
either army mutually faced with admirable courage the fierce sleet of
death that smote them down in bloody heaps. It could not last: the
superiority of the northern archers was beyond dispute, and Lancaster
ordered back the remains of his archers to a less exposed position, to
make room for bills and pikes, and the lances of the dismounted
men-at-arms, for the bridge was too old and full of holes to admit of
a charge of horse. A violent conflict ensued, blood was spilled
freely, and the bridge was heaped with the slain, for the old
Northumbrian war-fury rose to the fierce music of clashing steel and
resonant war-cries, and the defensive position of the royal troops, so
deeply massed at the head of the bridge, gave them every advantage
over their assailants, who could only bring a few lances to the front
in the hopeless struggle to beat a bloody pathway for their escape.
The insurgents fought desperately, as men entrapped, fighting for bare
life, or exacting the heaviest price from the slayer. Hereford set a
noble example to the unfortunate soldiers, charging on foot, sword in
hand, the foremost man in the sanguinary toil; but an untoward stroke
mocked his valour, and discouraged the devoted vassals who fought
beneath his flag. Under the rickety old bridge, with its gaping
timbers, lurked a felon Welshman, armed with a long spear, waiting for
some noble victim, whom he could thus slay without risking his own
person. The wished-for opportunity at length occurred, as Hereford
headed the desperate charge of the Lancastrians, and sustained the
fight in the vicinity of his concealed enemy. Suddenly, to the dismay
and horror of his friends, he reeled and fell heavily upon the bridge;
the pallor of death overspread his features, and the blood gushed from
his wounds. The Welshman had gashed his bowels by a murderous stroke
of his lance.
Lancaster now attempted to ford the river with a portion of his
troops, but this proved impossible in face of the deadly superiority
of the opposing archers. Sir Roger Clifford was wounded in the head;
Sir William Sulley and Sir Roger Bernefield were slain outright; the
Earl's army was utterly demoralised, his loss was severe, and
abandoning the last hope of forcing the river, he utterly lost heart,
and retired into the town, taking refuge in a chapel.
De Harcla now ordered the royal troops to advance, and they rushed
furiously over the bridge, bearing down the last feeble defence of the
disheartened Lancastrians, and pursuing the scattered fugitives with a
cruel ardour. Many archers and pikemen fell by sword and bill in that
dark hour, vassals whose only crime was obedience to the lords whose
badge they wore. Many knights and barons surrendered their swords, and
were rudely haled away in bonds, to await the punishment that follows
unsuccessful treason. That day the shadow of death gloomed over many a
brave young soldier, whose valour might have been worthily employed in
defending the northern borders against the incursions of the Scots.
Earl Lancaster was speedily surprised in the chapel where he had
hidden his unhappy head. Exulting in having achieved so notable a
capture, the rough soldiers laid rude hands upon him, whereon he sadly
gazed upon the crucifix, and fervently and pathetically ejaculated,
"Good Lord, I render myself unto Thee, and put me unto Thy mercy!" And
great was his need of the Divine, for of human mercy he was to receive
none. His knightly armour was torn off, never to be resumed, and,
after many insults, he was conveyed to York, to be hailed with
derisive cries of "King Arthur!" by the rude populace, as they cast
the street mud at him. In his famous Castle of Pontefract was a new
dungeon, built by his directions, and to which entrance was obtained
by means of a trap-door in the turret of the tower. To Pontefract the
Earl was carried, and lowered into this gloomy dungeon, so close a
type of the grave to which he was hourly drawing near.
King Edward was not long in reaching Pontefract with his army; when
Lancaster was brought to trial before his majesty and the loyal
barons who marched with him. Among them were the Spencers, around
whom he had hoped to draw the toils, and whom he regarded with
indignation and disgust, as the rapacious, upstart favourites of a
weak and foolish prince. The Spencers looked upon him as their most
dangerous enemy, and Edward was only fierce when defending his
favourites: who should speak of mercy in such an hour as that?
Certainly none of Edward's barons, however deeply they might deplore
the fate of the noble Earl, for their plea for mercy might be regarded
as a proof of disloyalty, and Edward was showing a leven of that
savage spirit which existed so strongly in his father, and was shown
by the butchering of so many noble Scotchmen on the scaffold.
The condemnation and sentence were speedily arrived at. Lancaster was
to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, but being of the royal blood he
was spared the torture which meaner traitors were subjected to, and
the punishment was commuted to decollation.
On the 22nd of March the headsman waited for Lancaster, who was led to
the scaffold, mounted on a miserable hack, insulted and reviled by the
spectators, many of whom pelted him with mud. Calm and dignified, he
implored the grace of heaven to enable him patiently to endure the
sorrow of that bitter hour. The block was placed upon a hill near his
castle, and he knelt with his face to the east, expecting the stroke
of the executioner; but his pitiless enemies ordered him to turn to
the north, from whence he had expected the Scottish succours, and in
this position he received his death-blow.
The rebellion of Lancaster involved many noblemen in his ruin.
Ninety-five knights and barons were cast into prison, and stood their
trial for high treason. Other bloody executions followed with
merciless barbarity. The lords Warren-de-Lisle, William de Fouchet,
Thomas Mandute, Fitz-William, Henry de Bradburne, and William Cheney,
suffered at Pontefract; and Clifford, Mowbray, and Deynville were
decapitated at York. Thus bloodily did King Edward avenge the death of
Gaveston--for there can be little doubt that the blow aimed at the
Spencers, and the recollection of Gaveston's doom, were the motives
that moved him to such a cruel exercise of his power over his revolted
and defeated subjects. Perhaps a more humane and generous policy might
have averted the evil days, when he was left as helpless in the hands
of his enemies as was Lancaster on the day of his defeat and capture.
In reguerdon of his great service to the crown, Sir Andrew Harcla was
exalted to the rank of Earl of Carlisle.
Among the revolted barons who fought with Lancaster and Hereford at
Boroughbridge, was John de Mowbray, lord of the vale of Mowbray, of
Kirby Malzeard, and Thirsk and Upsall Castles. Tradition still retains
his name, and gives a strangely wild and legendary account of his
death; probable enough, but not to be received as authentic history.
In the breaking up of the Lancastrian troops, in the last stormy
passage of the day, John de Mowbray, disengaging himself from the
press, put spurs to his horse, and rode off, in the direction of
Upsall Castle, near Thirsk, where he hoped to secure his safety. The
royalists, however, were soon on his track, pressed him hard, and
reached him as he was making his way through a lane, within sight of
Upsall Castle. In a moment he was seized and unhelmed, and his throat
stretched across the trunk of a fallen tree as one of the King's men
struck off his head. His armour was then stripped off and suspended
from the branches of an oak tree, his body being cast into a way-side
ditch. The tradition is preserved in the name of the lane which is
still called Chop Head Loaning. The Rev. Thomas Parkinson, F.R.H.S.,
gives this tradition at length in his interesting volume, "Yorkshire
Legends and Traditions," and quotes Mrs. Susan K. Phillips' poetical
version of the legend--a poem which would have delighted Sir Walter
Scott.
The blood-stained old wooden bridge across the Ure has long ceased to
bear the traffic of the locality, and a handsome stone erection now
replaces it. Harcla and Ward's old fighting ground, that bristled with
sword and spear and deadly bill on the 16th of March, 1321, is now
more prosaic soil, burdened with houses, timber, and coal-yards; and
is partly cleft by a short canal, the property of the River Ure
Navigation. When the river was embanked in 1792, the excavators at the
Old Banks, below the bridge, discovered some presumed relics of the
battle, consisting of many fragments of arms and armour.
VIII.--BATTLE OF BYLAND ABBEY.
A.D. 1322.
After the tragedy of Earl Lancaster's revolt had been concluded by the
wholesale executions of the barons and knights implicated in that
misguided movement, the Scots, commanded by Randolph, Earl of Moray,
invaded the Western marches, and ravaged the country in their
customary barbarous style, slaying all who attempted resistance, and
driving before them all the flocks and herds that their swift and
well-organised cavalry could collect. What they could not carry away
they burnt, returning to Scotland without having received a check in
the field. Where they had passed, the summer sun gleamed brightly on
ruined cots and devastated fields, and the English peasantry, inured
to toil and suffering, gazed despairingly upon the ruin of the fruit
of the soil, fostered by their hard labour, and by the sun and rain of
the departed months.
While the Scots were acting Edward of Cærnarvon was preparing to take
the field. Referring to the English monarch's victory at
Boroughbridge, Sir Walter Scott makes the following
reflections:--
"This gleam of success on his arms, which had been sorely
tarnished, seems to have filled Edward, who was of a sanguine
and buoyant temperament, with dreams of conquest over all his
enemies. As a king never stands more securely than on the ruins
of a discovered and suppressed conspiracy, he wrote to the pope
to give himself no further solicitude to procure a truce or
peace with the Scots, since he had determined to bring them to
reason by force."
Edward spared no pains to ensure the success of the expedition into
Scotland, and Parliament authorised military levies in the country to
the extent of one man from every English hamlet and village, and a
proportionate number from the towns and cities. Subsidies of money
were largely granted, and enabled Edward to obtain supplies of arms
and provisions from over seas, besides reinforcing his army with
soldiers from Aquitaine.
The Scottish monarch timed his movements, and organised his plans to
check the English advance, with his customary foresight and energy;
and although the cruel slaughter of so many of his nearest relatives
and dearest friends might well have steeled his heart against the
English, we are bound to admit that his repeated devastations of the
Northumbrian provinces were of incalculable service in protecting
Scotland from hostile attacks, although they might and did excite the
English to cross the border in expeditions organised for the purpose
of revenge.
Bruce never wanted for an army to invade England--an army that repaid
its toils by the plunder of the enemy, and this is clearly illustrated
by the campaign that ended with the battle of Byland Abbey; while
Edward was spending months in raising an army, taxing the people, and
making forced levies, drawing supplies of men and munitions from his
continental provinces, Bruce had but to raise his standard, when a
numerous army followed him, to win the reguerdon of their toil with
sword and spear from the fertile English provinces.
King Robert dared not risk the liberties of Scotland by meeting the
powerful hosts of England, with their deadly archers, in the open
field, and his plan of defence was therefore to devastate the English
borders with fire and sword, to the farthest practicable limit, and
to drive all the flocks and herds on the Scottish border far inland,
wasting the country as far as the Firth of Forth.
As soon as Moray had performed his raid on the West marches, he was
instructed to join his forces with those of Douglas, and cross the
borders in a more easterly direction, while King Robert penetrated
into Lancashire through the Western marches. The expedition commenced
on the 1st of July, and was concluded on the 24th, when the Scotch
army re-entered Scotland in triumph, with numerous waggons heavily
laden with the plunder of the English. The vale of Furness had been
the scene of their triumphant march, and they left it utterly
desolated; barns, stacks and ricks, and fields of ripening grain had
been given to the flames, or trampled under foot.
The unhappy peasantry, abandoning their rude cots, sought such refuge
as the woods and wilds afforded, or haply took shelter in the nearest
walled town. Men-at-arms and burghers took spear and bow in hand, made
fast their gates, and kept careful watch lest the enemy should burst
upon them with fire and sword some dreadful night. The wasted country
gleamed with the light of burning villages, and many a rude
border-fortress was taken by assault before King Edward headed his
warriors and marched northward with his mail-clad barons and stout
yeomen.
The wary Scots waited not for the approach of the splendid army that
marched behind the banners of the unfortunate Edward of Cærnarvon;
although the English warriors were animated by an intense desire to
avenge their wrongs, and not a monarch in Christendom but might have
quailed at the prospect of joining battle with them, yet all their
high courage and warlike accomplishments failed to serve them in their
contest with the Bruce.
Pressing onward, rank after rank, squadron after squadron, with the
glitter of thousands of lances, pikes, and bills, and with hundreds of
banners floating on the breeze, the warriors of King Edward found
neither foes to fight nor plunder to repay their toil, but "a land of
desolation, which famine seemed to guard." The transport of stores for
so large an army was attended with extreme toil and difficulty, for
the wasted soil would not even afford forage for the English horses.
The English captains, hoping that by some chance the enemy might be
brought to an engagement, resolutely maintained their advance, and
the patient soldiers held on their way, in spite of increasing
difficulties and dangers. It was the month of August, and the fatigue
of the heavily armed troops must have been excessive. At length the
toil-worn army reached the capital, but without any amelioration of
their condition, or the prospect of an engagement. The sole spoil
between England and Edinburgh was one lame bull. Well might Earl
Warenne declare, "By my faith, I never saw dearer beef." A fleet with
supplies was expected in the firth, but it was detained by adverse
winds, and after vainly waiting for three days, during which the
troops began to experience the pangs of hunger, Edward reluctantly
commanded the retreat to commence. They knew that Bruce had massed his
army at Culross, and was keeping them under observation, but it was
impossible to get within sight of the Scottish army, or to force an
engagement. In their retreat the suffering and enraged soldiery burst
into the convents of Dryburgh and Melrose, from which all but a few
aged and infirm monks had retired: these unfortunates they put to the
sword, defiled the sanctuaries, and carried off the consecrated
vessels.
Bruce was now following hard and fast on the track of the retreating
army, alert to seize every advantage, and anxious to secure the safety
of his kingdom by inflicting a crushing blow upon his enemy. The
English soldiery were harassed by being kept continually on the alert,
and by the scarcity of provisions, but their greatest disaster awaited
them on their native soil. Travel-wasted and famine-stricken they
entered England, and were liberally supplied with food from the
principal magazines in the north. Partaking with the impatient avidity
of starving men, they sickened in great numbers, and in a few days
16,000 were carried off by inflammation of the bowels; and of the sick
who recovered, few were ever again fit for service in the field.
To avert further disasters, and renew the strength and spirit of the
survivors, the King formed a camp at Byland Abbey, some fourteen miles
from York; and there the sorely-tried and weary soldiers found a
temporary rest, and again enjoyed sufficient supplies of wholesome
food.
The position was extremely strong, and under ordinary circumstances
might perhaps have been considered unassailable when held by English
archers and men-at-arms. It was a country of rocks and woods, where
deep ravines cleft the rocks, and formed huge cliffs, easy of defence.
The soldiers were judiciously posted on the elevated ground
surrounding the abbey, a steep ridge very difficult to scale, the pass
to which was narrow and easily defended by veteran soldiers. The exact
ground that was held cannot now be ascertained; it was certainly an
elevated ridge, and very probably that now known as the Old Stead
Bank, at one end of which is a piece of land called "Scot's corner."
If this is the scene of the conflict, it took place about a mile and a
half to the north-west of the abbey. Doubtless the royal troops were
still demoralised by the mortifying results of the campaign,
disheartened by their losses, and weakened and dejected by their
sufferings.
King Robert's troops were largely mounted on small and active ponies,
which enabled them to follow fast upon the tracks of the English.
Crossing the Tweed, he attempted to carry Norham Castle, but failed,
and directed his march towards Byland Abbey, for he had intelligence
that the English army had there formed their camp. By a forced march
he appeared in front of the English, to their great surprise. No
doubt Bruce inferred that the English had lost all heart, for Cressy,
Poictiers, and Agincourt were then unfought, and the world knew little
of what the indomitable British spirit could endure, when great and
esteemed captains animated the warriors to the conflict. Edward II.
was neither great nor fortunate in arms, and was dining in the abbey,
attended by his principal officers, when the Scots appeared and
commenced the attack.
It was the 14th day of October, and the Scots commenced the conflict
by a desperate attempt to carry the pass that was the key to the
English position. Earls Pembroke and Richmond were there, however,
directing the defence, and, although taken by surprise, the English
soldiers made good their position with great courage. The pikemen held
the crest of the rock in solid formation, ready to charge should the
Scots force the pass, and bear them down again: the archers swept the
front of the position with showers of arrows, and huge masses of rock
were hurled upon the advancing enemy. The terrible Scottish infantry
swept on with their long spears and heavy bills and claymores, and a
hot encounter ensued. The Scots were so roughly handled, and the
position was so strong, that Bruce despaired of winning it by
storming the pass. To Douglas was appointed the arduous duty of
continuing the conflict, Randolph, with four squires, fighting under
his command, as volunteers. The English advanced post that defended
the ascent of the cliff was commanded by Sir Thomas Ughtred and Sir
Ralph Cobham--two gallant English knights who acquitted themselves
nobly. There was great bloodshed, and hard fighting for some time.
Bruce, who fully realised the position, headed a chosen band of
Highlanders, active and daring men, and resolved to attempt to take
the English in the rear, for closely engaged with the furious attacks
of Douglas, and probably believing the natural defence sufficient for
their protection, the English had neglected to post their troops in
such a position as would secure them in case of a rear attack being
made. Bruce seems to have realised the necessity of his attack being
too sudden and secret to admit of defensive measures being taken, and,
making a circuit, his Highlanders quickly and noiselessly scaled the
high rocks in flank and rear of the English army. What followed may be
easily imagined. The charge of the Highlanders was resistless, and
being unexpected, a dreadful scene of slaughter and panic ensued.
Vainly the English sought to close in, and meet the foe that burst
upon rear and flank: this diversion naturally distracted the attention
of the troops who supported the attacks of Douglas and Randolph, and
those hardy warriors forcing the pass won the heights, where a
terrible conflict was going on, the English troops breaking away, and
taking to flight whenever the opportunity offered. Good men were
there, although the panic-stricken fled, and many fell on that
corpse-encumbered and blood-stained ridge, fighting at close quarters,
and dying in their tracks. The bravest were cut down, and those that
could escape the toils took to hurried flight. The battle was soon
over; not so the pursuit. Great was the slaughter that ensued, but the
actual loss of life is not chronicled.