The Follies of the King Read online

  Therefore he sent his brother Edward Bruce to besiege the castle; Edward harried its occupants in every way and the Governor, Sir Philip Mowbray, was unable to procure the supplies he needed. Edward Bruce however lacked astuteness of his brother and was beguiled by Sir Philip into conferring with him. To take the castle would be expensive for the Scots in men and arms; moreover there was a possibility that the operation might not be successful.

  ‘Edward’s armies are on the way to defend Stirling,’ was Sir Philip’s argument. ‘I can hold out until they arrive. This could spell a defeat for you which could be disastrous to the Scottish cause.’

  Edward Bruce replied that all knew the nature of the King of England. He was not like his father. It seemed like he had no intention of bringing an army to Scotland. In which case in due time the Scots would have Stirling as they had Edinburgh, Linlithgow and the rest.

  ‘That is true,’ replied Mowbray. ‘So I will make a truce with you. If the English army is not within three leagues of this castle by the Feast of St John the Baptist, I will surrender to you without the loss of one life on either side.’

  Edward Bruce agreed. When his brother Robert heard what he had done he was greatly displeased but, determined to make the best of the situation, he began to see that the arrangement would give him a chance to gather together an army to stand against the English should they come.

  * * *

  Pembroke came in haste to Edward. ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘you will see the urgency of this matter. Mowbray must be relieved at Stirling and we have little time in which to do it.’

  Edward sighed. ‘These tiresome Scots.’

  Pembroke went on a trifle impatiently: ‘Mowbray is a gallant soldier and a faithful servant. He needs assistance and he must have it.’

  ‘Then, let us send it.’

  ‘My lord, that is not enough. Since your father’s death we have lost a great deal of that which he gained. One by one the garrison towns are slipping away from us. We must stop this and the only way to do it is to amass an army and march on Scotland.’

  ‘The barons―’

  ‘It is an opportunity to unite them in a single cause. No matter what their quarrels with each other, their duty to the Crown remains. I am ready to forget my differences with Warwick until this matter is resolved and so must they.’

  ‘I see this could be so,’ said Edward.

  ‘There must be a full scale invasion from sea and land. The Scots have a great leader in the Bruce. Never have they been so united― even under Wallace.

  Now is the time, my lord. If we allow Stirling to fall into the hands of the Scots it will be a disaster. We owe it to Mowbray to send relief as soon as it is possible.’

  ‘It shall be done,’ cried Edward. He felt a sudden enthusiasm for the fight.

  ‘It was true that it would bind the barons together and he was tired— and a little afraid— of their continual bickering. It would help him to forget Gaveston.

  People were always comparing him with his father, now they should see that he could be warlike too. He would teach the Scots a lesson.’

  ‘We should summon the earls and barons without fail,’ said Pembroke ‘Let it be done,’ answered Edward.

  Within a few days the commands were issued to eight earls― among them Lancaster— and eighty-seven barons.

  They were to meet at Berwick by the tenth day of June.

  * * *

  Preparations went on apace. Edward ordered that a fleet of twenty-three vessels be assembled at the Cinque ports and their purpose was to invade Scotland.

  In all this Pembroke was beside the King. He tried to instill into Edward a respect for his opponent. It would not be the first time Pembroke had faced Bruce. He had been victorious against him at Methven and beaten by him at Loudoun Hill and he knew him for a formidable foe. Edward laughed aside his warnings. Bruce was a man to be reckoned with, yes, he accepted that. But such an army would come against him that his would be completely outnumbered.

  ‘Even my father could not have withstood such an army had he been on the opposing side,’ said Edward.

  ‘ ‘Tis so, my lord,’ replied Pembroke. ‘But we must not make the mistake of expecting easy victory.’

  Pembroke was a master at the art of war. He made sure that the army should have the necessary provisions; he set up men whose efficiency he could rely on to take care of the stores. They must have in their train smiths, carpenters, masons, and armourers, wagons to carry the tents and pavilions and all that was necessary to warfare. Many a battle he reminded the King had been lost through neglect of such details.

  Nor must the King neglect to ask the help of God and it would be a good gesture for him to make a pilgrimage with the Queen, and his young son to St Albans.

  Isabella was nothing loath. She enjoyed displaying herself to the people, and that she should show off her son delighted her.

  Along the roads people came out to give loyal greetings as they passed. It was like the old days when Great Edward went to war, they said. There was the King with his Queen and his son, the heir to the throne. The Gaveston period was over. That man had been evil. He was the son of a witch and temporarily had cast a spell on the King. All Edward needed now was victory in Scotland and the people would be certain that the old days were back again.

  Alas, it was not going to be so easy, as he found when he arrived at Berwick.

  It was Pembroke who brought the news to him. ‘Lancaster, Arundel, Surrey and Warwick will not come in person,’ he told the King.

  Edward was filled with sudden rage. ‘Why not? How dare they? Have I not summoned them?’

  ‘Aye, my lord, and they have sent token troops in accordance with their feudal vows to the Crown. They say that they should have been consulted before you took up arms.’

  ‘Traitors!’ cried the King.

  ‘We cannot say that, my lord. They have fulfilled their commitments though in the minimum degree it is true and we shall not have the force we expected from them.’

  ‘I thought at a time like this they would have considered their duty to their country.’

  ‘They consider only gain to themselves, my lord. And they have performed what was required of them at this time. We have the service of good men. Many have seen service in Scotland before this and Wales too. Their services will be of the greatest value to us.’

  The King agreed and he glowed with pride and optimism when he surveyed his army. There must be some forty thousand men, a band of which even his father would have been proud.

  Edward was going to show the Scots that his father’s spirit going to make them lived on. He was going to make them eat their words. This was going to be as great a victory as had ever glorified his father’s name.

  He with his men marched on to Edinburgh.

  * * *

  Robert the Bruce, aware of the advancing English, should have been filled with apprehension. He was, and yet there was in him a surging hope, for he believed that it was his destiny to drive the English out of Scotland and when Edward the First had died and he had begun to realize the nature of his successor he had been certain that he was going to succeed.

  There had been so much failure; the Scots could not hope to raise an army which could compare with that of Edward’s in training; in equipment they were vastly inferior; yet the spirit was there. Men who were defending their homeland always had the advantage over the invader. If they had an inspired leader, they could work miracles. Bruce was inspired. He has suffered many defeats but he knew he was going to win in the end. he liked to tell the tale of the spider which had somehow caught his imagination and that of his followers.

  He would sit by the light of the camp fire and talk to them of the time when he had been lonely, depressed and defeated, when he had been routed and had barely managed to save his life. He would tell how he had lain in his bed and watched a spider try six times to attach its thread to a balk and each time fail.

  The spider went on trying until on the se
venth attempt when he was successful.

  This seemed significant to Bruce because six times he had raised armies and attempted to defeat the English and each time he had been defeated.

  ‘Now shall this spider teach me what I am to do,’ he said. ‘Even as the creature failed so did I; and even as he succeeded in the end, I shall also. He has taught me a lesson which I will never forget and that is never to accept defeat. If I fail yet will I try again and go on trying until defeat turns into victory.’

  It was spoken of often in his camps. They knew that their King would never harm a spider, and nor would they, for it had become a superstition that ill luck would follow any who did.

  It had helped him, that spider, because the legend which had grown up round it was that one day Robert would succeed even as the spider had. He was going to turn the English out of Scotland.

  This might be the time. It must be the time, for the King himself was in Scotland with a mighty army and the battle which would inevitably follow could be a decisive one. True, Great Edward was no more, but the army was there and how could the Scottish army one third the size stand up to it?

  Robert the Bruce had mustered his men at Torwood close by Stirling where he reviewed his chances. With a army he must rely on his own generalship, his men’s determination and his knowledge of the ground on which the battle would take place. He must manoeuvre so that he should choose the spot and as he had few cavalry men and the English were well equipped in this field, he decided that must be fought on foot. He himself chose the battleground. It was to be New Park between the village of St. Ninian and the little stream of the Bannock which was known in the district as Bannockburn. Here by the water, the land was marshy and this would provide a danger for the English horses.

  He called together the principal generals of the Scottish army. There was his brother Sir Edward Bruce, Sir James Douglas, Randolph Earl of Moray and Walter, the High Steward of Scotland.

  He was very sober as he addressed them. ‘We are out-numbered three-to- one, but do not let the men know this. I have carefully examined the ground and I want the right wing of the army to rest on the banks of the burn. There we can be sure of not being outflanked. The front of the army shall extend to St. Ninian village.’

  “The left will be less protected than the rest of the army,’ pointed out Moray.

  ‘You speak truth. It will be exposed to the garrison of Stirling Castle. That is why I have ordered that pits be dug in that area and in these shall be placed iron spikes.’

  ‘ ‘Tis a grand idea,’ cried Douglas.

  ‘And the hollows will be filled with brushwood,’ went on Bruce.

  ‘No horse will be able to pass over that ground,’ commented the Steward.

  ‘That was the intention,’ smiled Bruce. ‘Now, let us go forward with a quiet confidence. The odds are against us but we can succeed.’

  ‘We must succeed,’ said Randolph.

  ‘I thank God that it is not the English King’s father who comes against us,’

  murmured Bruce.

  ‘Doubtless, they will carry his bones before the army,’ said the Steward, who was not a veteran of battle as the others were.

  Bruce smiled at his smooth young face.

  ‘We learn to believe only in those omens which bring good to us,’ he said ‘But if they are good or evil―’ began the young man.

  ‘Evil― good― either is born in the mind. And so are victory and defeat. My friends, let us say together, “This day we shall succeed.” Come, I will speak to the men. I want every man who fights under my banner this day to be there because he wishes to see Scotland free. I want no reluctant men in my army.’

  He rode forward on his small grey mare, an unimpressive animal but surefooted and chosen for this reason. He was clad on his helmet he wore a circlet of gold that all might recognize him as the King, and in spite of his somewhat unkingly mount there was that about him which inspired men and never had it been more apparent than at that moment.

  He spoke in clear ringing tones. The enemy was close. Many of the men here this day would remember the bloody battles between Scotland and the late King. That King was dead now and he believed they had little to fear from his son.

  ‘If there is a man among you who is not fully resolved to win this field or die with honor, let him throw down his arms and go. I want no such man in my army. I would rather have but half the men who stand before me now and they good brave men, loyal to Scotland, than double the present numbers with traitors or reluctant men among you. Now is your chance. Speak now if you will. I offer you liberty to go or stay.’

  There was a deep silence. Bruce’s heart was beating uncertainly. What if there cowardly men among them? What if they, sensing death close by― for assuredly it would come to some this day— grew faint-hearted and thought with longing of their bairns and their firesides away in some remote comer of Scotland far from St Ninian’s and Bannockburn?

  Not a movement in the ranks. Not a sound to be heard but the ripple of the burn.

  Then a great shout went up. ‘Victory for the Bruce and Scotland forever.’

  I have good and faithful men to serve me, thought Bruce. That augurs well for Scotland.

  * * *

  Edward’s great desire was to get the battle over. He had no doubt of the outcome. He had a fine army. If his father were looking down on him now he would be pleased with him. The Scots could not stand out against him. He had been angry because of those barons who had refused to join him but now he laughed to think how sorry they would be when he returned victorious to England.

  The first thing to do was relieve Mowbray at Stirling Castle. That would be a fine gesture. He sent for Sir Robert Clifford and ordered that he take an advance party of eight hundred cavalry and capture the castle.

  Sir Robert rode off. It was certain that the Scots would be expecting this move. Stirling Castle was a strategic point and it was to relieve the governor that the English army had come to Scotland. He must therefore be wary. He knew where the enemy army was situated and instead of taking direct route which could have resulted in his being seen, he with his men rode quietly round the village of St Ninian’s taking care to keep themselves out of sight as much as possible. Thus Randolph Earl of Moray whom Bruce had commanded to be watchful of just such a move did not see what was happening and it was Robert the Bruce himself who caught sight of Sir Robert and his band making their way cautiously to the castle.

  The Bruce rode hastily to Randolph and demanded to know what this meant.

  ‘You have thought too lightly of the charge I gave you. A rose has fallen from your chaplet this day, nephew.’

  Overcome with horror Randolph rode off immediately in pursuit of Clifford who hearing the approach, gave the order to his men to wheel round and attack.

  Randolph had only five hundred men and he was out-numbered but he formed his troops into a square with spears held before them. The English rode forward but they could not break through the Scottish spears and Clifford gave the order to surround the Scots. The English cavalry was heavily armed and the Scottish weapons were only their long spears, short knives and battle-axes. The Scots put up a magnificent fight but they were against the heavy arms of the English cavalry and surrounded as they were, it seemed inevitable that they must be defeated although they might inflict heavy casualties upon their opponents.

  Bruce was watching the affray from some distance, Sir James Douglas beside him.

  ‘By God, my lord,’ said Douglas, ‘this will be the end of Randolph. I must go to his aid.’

  ‘Nay,’ said Bruce. ‘To do so would mean a change of our plans. Randolph should have stopped them before they got so Let him fight his way out of this.’

  ‘It will be death for him. They will be wiped out― the whole force.’

  While the conflict between Randolph and Clifford was in progress the English army had been brought to a halt while it was considered whether to begin battle that day or wait until the next. Both men
and horses were tired from the long march and it was finally decided that the following day would be more appropriate.

  Robert the Bruce was of the same mind regarding the time to begin the fight.

  The possible loss of Randolph had meant that he must make certain adjustments to his plans, and he was riding along the line of his army, seated not on a warhorse but on his small grey mare, carrying as his only weapon his steel battle-axe when he was seen by one of the knights who was suddenly filled with a desire to win glory for himself.

  The de Bohuns belonged to one of the leading families of the nobility and their prestige had been greatly enhanced when Humphrey the fourth Earl of Hereford and third Earl of Essex had married Elizabeth, the daughter of Edward I after she had been widowed by the Earl of Holland. It was true that the King might not have chosen this match for his daughter but Elizabeth had taken a fancy to Humphrey de Bohun and declared that as she had married once for state reasons she should be allowed the second time to marry as she wished.

  Such a connection was highly desirable and Humphrey’s young nephew, had the sudden wild urge to bring greater glory not only to the family but on himself and so win the admiration of his influential uncle.

  There was Robert the Bruce, the King of the Scots, already a legend, and de Bohun remembered the old and honoured custom that battles could often be settled by single combat and that if the leader of an army could be thus slain, the battle all but won.

  What honour would befall the de Bohun family and in particular, Sir Henry if he called out the mighty Bruce and slew him? And there he was seated on a small grey mare― with nothing but a battle-axe in his hand and the only reason he could be seen to be the King was due to the golden circlet he wore over his helmet.

  Young Sir Henry rode forward.

  Robert the Bruce was taken momentarily by surprise. He glanced at the young rider magnificently equipped on a fine warhorse, armed for battle. It was madness to answer the challenge. He was seated on his steady grey mare. She was agile and surefooted in marshy land but how could she stand up to this mighty armoured figure?