Northward, past the extremity of the Cheviots, flows the Tweed, and one
of its tributaries on the English side is the Till, which drains the
bases of those sharp hills, that rise nearly twenty-seven hundred feet.
Here was Ford Castle, and here was fought the terrible Border battle of
Flodden in 1513. Ford Castle dated from the time of Edward I., and its
proximity to the Border made it the object of many assaults. In the
fifteenth century it was held by Sir William Heron, and a few days
before the battle of Flodden the Scots, under James IV., during Sir
William's captivity in Scotland, stormed and destroyed Ford, taking
captive Lady Heron, who had endeavored to defend it. In the last century
Ford was restored by the Marquis of Waterford, to whom it had descended,
so that it now appears as a fine baronial mansion, surmounted by towers
and battlements, and standing in a commanding situation overlooking the
valley of the Till, with the lofty Cheviots closing the view a few miles
to the south-west, their peaks affording ever-varying scenes as the
season changes.
[Illustration: FORD TOWER, OVERLOOKING FLODDEN.]
[Illustration: THE CHEVIOTS, FROM FORD CASTLE.]
[Illustration: FLODDEN, FROM THE KING'S BEDCHAMBER, FORD CASTLE.]
The great attraction of the view, however, is the famous hill of
Flodden, about a mile to the westward, crowned by a plantation of dark
fir trees, and presenting, with the different aspects of the weather,
ever-changeful scenery, recalling now the "dark Flodden" and anon the
"red Flodden" of the balladists. Across the valley from Ford Castle, and
at the foot of this fir-crowned hill, was fought one of the bitterest
contests of the Border. Now, the famous battlefield is a
highly-cultivated farm and sheep-pasture. James IV. of Scotland had
unjustly determined to make war upon England, and he set out upon it in
opposition to the real desire of his countrymen, and even against the
omens of Heaven, as the people believed. A few days before he departed
for his army the king attended St. Michael's Church, adjacent to his
stately palace at Linlithgow, when a venerable stranger entered the
aisle where the king knelt. The hair from his uncovered head flowed down
over his shoulders, and his blue robe was confined by a linen girdle.
With an air of majesty he walked up to the kneeling king, and said,
"Sire, I am sent to warn thee not to proceed in thy present undertaking,
for if thou dost it shall not fare well either with thyself or those who
go with thee." He vanished then in the awe-stricken crowd. But this was
not the only warning. At midnight, prior to the departure of the troops
for the south, it is related that a voice not mortal proclaimed a
summons from the market cross, where proclamations were usually read,
calling upon all who should march against the English to appear within
the space of forty days before the court of the Evil One. Sir Walter
Scott says that this summons, like the apparition at Linlithgow, was
probably an attempt by those averse to the war to impose upon the
superstitious temper of James IV. But the king started at the head of
the finest army, and supported by the strongest artillery-train, that
had down to that time been brought into the field by any Scottish
monarch. He entered England August 22d. without having formed any
definite plan of action. He wasted two days on the Till, besieged Norham
for a week, when it surrendered, and then besieged Ford. These delays
gave the English time to assemble. King James, as above related,
captured Lady Heron at Ford. She was beautiful and deceitful, and soon
enthralled the gay king in her spells, while all the time she was in
communication with the English. Thus James wasted his time in dalliance,
and, as Scott tells us,
"The monarch o'er the siren hung,
And beat the measure as she sung,
And, pressing closer and more near,
He whispered praises in her ear."
All the time the energetic Earl of Surrey was marshalling the English
hosts, and, marching with twenty-six thousand men northward through
Durham, received there the sacred banner of St. Cuthbert. On September
4th. Surrey challenged James to battle, which the king accepted against
the advice of his best councillors. The Scots had become restive under
the king's do-nothing policy, and many of them left the camp and
returned home with the booty already acquired. James selected a strong
position on Flodden Hill, with both flanks protected and having the
deep and sluggish waters of the Till flowing in front. Surrey advanced
and reconnoitred, and then sent the king a herald requesting him to
descend into the plain, as he acted ungallantly in thus practically
shutting himself up in a fortress. The king would not admit the herald.
Surrey then attempted a stratagem. Crossing the Till on the 8th, he
encamped at Barmoor Wood, about two miles from the Scottish position,
concealing his movement from the enemy. On the 9th he marched down the
Till to near its confluence with the Tweed, and recrossed to the eastern
bank. This, too, was uninterrupted by the Scots, who remained strangely
inactive, though it is recorded that the chief Scottish nobles implored
the king to attack the English. The aged Earl Angus begged him either to
assault the English or retreat. "If you are afraid, Angus," replied the
king, "you can go home." The master of artillery implored the king to
allow him to bring his guns to bear upon the English, but James returned
the reply that he would meet his antagonist on equal terms in a fair
field, and scorned to take an advantage. Then Surrey drew up his line
between James and the Border, and advanced up the valley of the Till
towards the Scots. The king set fire to the temporary huts on the
hillside where he had been encamped, and descended to the valley, the
smoke concealing the movements of each army from the other; but Surrey's
stratagem was thus successful in drawing him from his strong position.
The English van was led by Lord Thomas Howard, Surrey commanding the
main body, Sir Edward Stanley the rear, and Lord Dacre the reserves. The
Scottish advance was led by the Earls of Home and Huntley, the king
leading the centre, the Earls of Lennox and Argyle the rear, and the
reserves, consisting of the flower of the Lothians, were under the Earl
of Bothwell. The battle began at four in the afternoon, when the
Scottish advance charged upon the right wing of the English advance and
routed it. Dacre promptly galloped forward with his reserves, and
restored the fortunes of the day for the English right. The main bodies
in the mean time became engaged in a desperate contest. The Scottish
king in his ardor forgot that the duties of a commander were distinct
from the indiscriminate valor of a knight, and placed himself in front
of his spearmen, surrounded by his nobles, who, while they deplored the
gallant weakness of such conduct, disdained to leave their sovereign
unprotected. Dacre and Howard, having defeated the Scottish wing in
front of them, at this time turned their full strength against the flank
of the Scottish centre. It was a terrific combat, the Scots fighting
desperately in an unbroken ring around their king. The battle lasted
till night, and almost annihilated the Scottish forces. Of all the
splendid host, embracing the flower of the nobility and chivalry of the
kingdom, only a few haggard and wounded stragglers returned to tell the
tale. The English victors lost five thousand slain, and the Scots more
than twice that number, and among them the greatest men of the land.
They left on the field their king, two bishops, two mitred abbots,
twenty-seven peers and their sons, and there was scarcely a family of
any position in Scotland that did not lose a relative there. The young
Earl of Caithness and his entire band of three hundred followers
perished on the field. The body of the dead king, afterwards found by
Dacre, was taken to Berwick and presented to his commander, who had it
embalmed and conveyed to the monastery of Sheyne in Surrey. The poetic
instincts of the Scots were deeply moved by the woes of the fatal field
of Flodden, and innumerable poems and ballads record the sad story, the
crowning work of all being Scott's _Marmion_.
[Illustration: THE CRYPT, FORD CASTLE.]