A ragged cheer went up from chewing men.
“So this day we teach the English their lesson. A teaching that they have earned, my God! But we do it as an ordered host, not a rabble, see you. We divide. I take two thousand, and make for Alnwick, the Percy’s town, a dozen miles on. The rest, under my Lord Fleming, will harry this countryside. As the English harried ours. Their towns and villages, farms and homesteads, you will destroy. Their hay you will burn, their cattle slay. Do not burden yourselves with beasts or gear or women — that cost the English dear at Redheugh. Do not, indeed, make war against women and bairns — that is not for men who wear my Red Heart of Douglas. I charge you — mind it! And do not harry the Church. I am scant churchman, but this I command. There is plenty without these, plenty for your swords and torches. You understand? And do not spread too wide and far. Keep touch with the rest. So that you remain a force. We assemble here again, tonight.”
None found fault with that programme.
So, with Jamie and Johnnie, with Cavers, as lieutenants, Will took the best two-thirds of his array and headed south-east, down Breamish, fast, through still unroused and unsuspecting country. They wasted no time on pillage and rapine, purposeful, controlled.
In little over an hour they were nearing the Aln valley. The walled town of Alnwick, clustering round the great Percy castle, lay in the valley-floor and climbed the southern bank. Within two or three miles of the place, John and his advance-party were sent on ahead at full gallop. Cavers had been here before, and declared that the northern gate in the walls, captured and held, would not only allow free access to the town but could deny aid coming to the people from the castle, which lay to that side. That the said gate would not be strongly guarded, this breezy May morning, was their hope; this had been the main objective behind Will’s prohibition of sack and ravage, hitherto, and consequent delay, which could have allowed the alarm to reach Alnwick.
In consequence, when the main body of the Scots came trotting down the long north slope of the valley, in orderly fashion, to Alnwick Bridge, beneath the dreaded Douglas Red Heart banner, a mile-long column, three abreast, it was to find the town gate standing wide, Johnnie’s men in tight control and the cowering townsfolk watching in silent alarm from a discreet distance. There was no move, as yet, from the castle.
The sack of Alnwick, thereafter, proved to be an inglorious, businesslike, almost humdrum affair, thorough, methodical and carefully controlled. There was little or no organised resistance, and only sporadic and short-lived bouts of fighting, where groups of individuals more or less instinctively sought to protect their property. The fact was that a good proportion of the younger and able-bodied men of the town were up at Berwick with their masters, and the remaining citizenry were not sufficiently foolish as to consider that there was any sense in contesting and further infuriating such a powerful attacking host, especially one led by the Black Douglas in person. That they got no lead or help from the castle undoubtedly affected their attitude. Yet for the keeper thereof to have acted otherwise than he did, was scarcely conceivable, with both Northumberland and his son absent, and most of the garrison with them, and the enemy in overwhelming strength in the town. He could hold the castle itself, and that was all.
So Will, after closing and manning all gates, took up his stance at the market cross, and directed the burning of Alnwick almost as though it had been one of his games tournaments. First, all the townspeople, or nearly all, were rounded up and herded into churchyards and other open spaces, and kept under guard. Then, street by street, squads of men were sent through the houses, to collect easily transportable valuables of small bulk. All else was to be left. Thereafter, with due reference to wind direction, the buildings were methodically fired. Most were made of timber and thatched, huddled together in narrow lanes and alleys, and they blazed like tinder. More trouble had to be taken with stone-built constructions, but these were comparatively few.
In a remarkably short time Alnwick was an inferno — though a well-regulated and directed inferno, the noise of weeping, wailing, cursing townsfolk and yelling children, drowned in the roar and crackle of the flames and the crisp barking orders of Douglas commanders. It would be an exaggeration to say that there was no slaughter, rape or savagery; but such was kept to a minimum, by stern orders, strict supervision and the very tempo of the operation. Will and his brothers were everywhere, co-ordinating, exhorting, watching, restraining, Will grim and vehement, relentless, Jamie hating it all, and Johnnie revelling in every moment.
Presently, with a vast billowing column of black smoke rising hundreds of feet above the town and darkening all the forenoon, they had to drive the frightened, frantic townsfolk out through one of the gates, beyond the walls, where already the invaders’ horses had been taken, as all the open spaces became ringed round and engulfed, and showering sparks and embers rained down. There, will took the mayor of the place, himself a Percy by-blow, and wrapping him in a Douglas banner, trussed him up securely and hanged him from the castle’s own tall dule-tree, in full view of the garrison — not by the neck, but by his bonds, leaving the man to swing there, and birl, beseeching and imprecating in turns.
Satisfied, Will had his trumpeter assemble his men. He addressed them there, on Percy’s green moot-hill before the castle, such as could hear him, with the smoke being carried away in the other direction by the easterly breeze.
“It is well done,” he shouted, against the noise of the flames. “The Percy will not forget, for long. But you have kept the name of Douglas bright, as well as feared. You have my thanks. Aye — but there is more to be done. We go back to Breamish. But on the way, we show this fair English country that it is unwise to go north and burn and slay in Scotland. We will spread wide and cut a swathe through this Northumberland that men will point at for many a day! A hundred score of us should cut a fair swathe! We will work in line, myself at the right. Keep you that line.”
They left the pyre that was Alnwick, and once out of the trough of the valley, spread out laterally, mainly in little groups of ten or half a dozen, to form a front, facing north by west, with gaps between of up to quarter or even half a mile, depending on the terrain. This took a considerable time to organise, but when at last it began to move forward, the Scots line stretched for some seven miles, and would widen as it went. Thereafter, in a band that wide, devastation complete and terrible was spread across the fair face of Northumberland, with a thoroughness and method that seemed to make the destruction almost the more dire for its very cold disciplined progress.
On the extreme right, nearest the sea, Will established his controlling position, not in the centre. This was because any attack was likely to come from that direction. No local bands, hurriedly assembled, were going to interfere with such a host as this; but Berwick would not long remain ignorant of what was taking place, and the Percys could be expected to mount some sort of counter-action. Will had sufficiently grim example of what could happen when an invading army, which did not know the terrain intimately, relaxed its vigilance in seeming cowed and prostrate country. He had a screen of fully a hundred scouts out, far in advance, and maintained control and contact personally.
They began to run into already devastated territory before they reached the Breamish in the evening, and ahead of them, as well as behind, all was rolling smoke-clouds. Fleming and Cavers had been busy. In the green dale, gradually the smoke-blackened, hoarse-voiced men assembled, coming in in small groups and large, not a few the worse for liquor, many with more booty than their commands had stipulated. Will was well aware that maintaining a strict discipline in an irregular force such as this, engaged in so heady and scattered a task, was all but impossible; yet he was determined that, as far as was humanly possible, he should remain in effective control. As a consequence, when during one of his many patrols of the camp area in the valley-floor, he distinctly heard a woman’s bitten-off scream, he was swift to investigate. Swift also to act thereafter, when he discovered two girls, naked but trusse
d up and hidden under blankets, amongst the horse-lines of a group of Morton Douglases. Without delay or compunction, he hanged the bonnet-laird in charge and one of his men who protested, as warning to all others who chose to flout the Black Douglas’s commands, and took the young women away, giving them clothing and money as some compensation, and sending them under escort to the Vicar of Berwick near by.
That night the sky was vivid red over a great part of Northumbria. Berwick could not fail to see it.
But still no attack developed, the scouts sent no word of approaching forces.
Dawn saw the Scots up and on their stern way, still north by west, their left spreading right to the Cheviot foothills now. There was no opposition, but the land was deserted in their path, flocks driven off and valuables hidden. Undoubtedly many had spent a busy night. Fairly early, word reached Will that a large body of men had left Berwick; but later reports made it clear that this was in fact heading due south at speed, with no diversions right or left — almost certainly Percy and his father making direct for Alnwick. If that was so, it seemed unlikely that there would be any attack mounted for some time; there was plenty to keep the Percys busy in Alnwick.
So the work went on, purposeful but somewhat wearisome now, though with never a moment’s relaxation in Will’s watchfulness. Jamie and Johnnie he kept riding up and down the long front, seeking to control, to keep it approximately in line, to whip in stragglers, to discourage delaying searches for loot.
Noontide saw Wooler ablaze, and mid-afternoon Doddington, Milfield, Branxton and Etal. They left the castle there unassaulted, like those of Ford, Duddo and Heaten, islands in the blackened sea.
By evening, everywhere the line of the silver Tweed was before them again, and Will at least knew a great relief. Safely across the river, he could base himself securely in a strong defensive position, where he could contest the Tweed crossings, against the inevitable repercussions and reprisals, keep an eye on Berwick, and seek contact with Hugh’s force in the West.
The main body crossed again at Norham, leaving some hundreds on the south bank to watch approaches to the various fords. Will, for one, slept the more soundly that night for being on Scottish soil once more.
He was wakened when couriers from Hugh found them. Hugh’s news was that he was continuing to harass and dog Salisbury’s army, but it was a much larger force than had been reported, and he was not strong enough to challenge it openly. Estimates now put the English in the West at about seven thousand. They were not behaving as Percy had done in the East, but sitting tight in Dumfries and sending out strong raiding columns from there. One of these Hugh had managed to intercept and cut up, but only one. He needed more men.
Will was put in something of a quandary. The obvious course would be, of course, to hurry across to the West with all his strength, and take over from Hugh. But he was quite certain that Northumberland would not lie down under what had been done to him and his, and would strike back in increased fury, with all the force he could muster. And this East March was infinitely more vulnerable than the West, more dangerous for Scotland’s safety. Already Percy had been within twenty-five miles of Edinburgh. Will dared not leave this side of the Border.
He had to compromise again, sending a thousand men, under Johnnie, and urging Hugh to make a large-scale feint, possibly across Eskdale to the English side of the Border, burning Long-town or Kirlinton, to entice Salisbury out of Dumfries and into country where he would be disadvantaged. Will would have liked to send Rob Fleming, an older and more experienced man, to take charge — but young Hugh, Earl of Ormond, would take that badly. He sent an urgent courier north to Stirling, however, to demand haste in the national mobilisation, and to suggest that Sir William Hay himself should lead the first contingent down to the Solway. Hugh would hardly feel it contrary to his dignity to serve under the High Constable. Only a little less urgent were Will’s requests for reinforcements for himself, in the East.
So, with only moderate patience and good humour, the Lieutenant of the Realm settled down to an unlikely waiting and watching role along Tweed, with his two thousand men — something for him quite out of character when livelier action was building up elsewhere — even though he, like his men, was tired and much in need of a rest. He did find something more active to do than just wait, however. His detachment on the south side of the river reported that they had been shot at from Wark Castle. Wark lay a few miles to the west, across the river not far from Coldstream. Next to Berwick it was the strongest of the Tweed castles. While they waited for Percy, at least they could besiege this. They had no artillery, but mining and sapping were possible. It would keep the men occupied and in trim.
Two days passed. Wark scowled defiance, Berwick made no move, and there was no sign of Percy coming north again from Alnwick. A small reinforcement reached Will from Teviotdale.
Then the expected news arrived from deep in Northumberland. The Percys had ridden out of Alnwick in force, heading north by west. Numbers were uncertain but believed to be between three and five thousand.
Will waited, in all preparedness, for further news, so that he might gauge, if possible, where the enemy proposed to cross Tweed. For most of its length the river was impassable, and after Berwick itself there was not another bridge until Peebles, seventy miles up. But there were three or four fords, after the river ceased to be tidal some ten miles up, where pebble-banks and shoals allowed mounted men to cross, stirrup-high, when the river was not in spate. These fords Will was guarding.
The next news was also as anticipated. A force had emerged from Berwick, said to be under the command of its fiery governor, Sir Magnus Redmayne, and was proceeding westwards along the north bank of the river. It appeared to fore-shadow the traditional pincers-movement. Sitting astride the river at Fishwick, Norham, Dreeper Island and Coldstream, Will dared not concentrate his force until he had some indication as to Percy’s objective.
Evening reports put the principal enemy at Wooler, and Redmayne only five or six miles east of Fishwick ford, at Gainslaw.
The Scots stood guard all that night — and waited in vain for reinforcements.
Daylight brought totally unexpected tidings, Redmayne had turned back, during the night, crossed Tweed at West Ord, partly by boats and partly by a little used low-tide ford, and was now heading across open country almost due south. It looked indeed as though he was heading in the Wooler direction, for a link-up with Percy — strange move as this was.
Will puzzled at this. That it had been done under cover of darkness added to the mystery. It seemed like throwing away a good tactical advantage. He could make no sense of it.
All through another day, into June now, they waited, without development of the situation. And through another short night they stood at arms at the fords, anticipating a thrust rorth in the dark. But nothing eventuated. Dawn found the Scots Jaded and more perplexed than ever.
Then, in early forenoon, scouts from the south sent the word. The English had gone, during the night. Burned Wooler was abandoned again. The Percys and Redmayne both, had vanished.
Furiously Will questioned the messengers. But they could tell him little more. Only that signs, tracks and horse-droppings indicated that the united host had moved off south-westwards towards the Cheviots. Men were trailing them, and word would be sent.
Where were they going? It they were heading west into the hills, they must be intending to emerge again somewhere in surprise. To avoid these river crossings, perhaps, outflank them, and drive in behind? Move into Scotland by College, Curr and Kale Waters, it might be? And so into Teviotdale.
In some agitation Will debated. It might all be a ruse. He couldn’t make any moves, in reaction, until he was better informed. It would be crazy to leave his present strong positions meantime.
That day, Wark Castle fell, mined from beneath into the inner bailey. They used its own gunpowder to blow up the keep, and set the rest on fire.
Fretting. Will awaited news from his forward scouts. It did
not come until nightfall. Percy was now deep in the Cheviots, and still heading westwards, last reported position about the head of Jedwater — actually over into Scotland — and still heading west. A suspicion began to form itself in Will’s mind.
By noonday following, the suspicion was confirmed, the verification however having to be brought over fifty miles to him — for now his scouts were working far away indeed. The English had crossed the watershed into upper Liddesdale, not turned north for the Teviot. They were still moving down Liddesdale, south-west. They were going to join Salisbury on the Solway.
Will fretted and delayed no longer. Whatever Percy’s reasons for this major cross-country move, it spelt enormous menace to the West, where a united army of over ten thousand could be let loose. He gathered in his companies from all the fords, leaving only small numbers of Teviotdale men to watch them, and with the rest set off for the West with all speed. He sent ahead his swiftest couriers to try to warn Hugh — but feared that it would be too late.
As he pounded up the wide Tweed plain towards Kelso, he cursed himself for not having thought of it earlier. In a way, this was logical. The great Douglas lands all lay in the south-west of Scotland. Percy, hot with rage at what had been done to his capital of Alnwick, was now less concerned with any successful invasion of Scotland than with direst vengeance on Douglas. That was the magnet that drew him to Salisbury’s side — hate. Will would wager that his prime objective was Douglasdale. And he had at least a seventy-mile start.
If the Douglases had ridden hard and fast eastwards from Lincluden, they rode now still harder and faster westwards back towards Nithsdale. From Kelso, up Teviotdale they galloped the long, long valley, crossing the breadth of Scotland. Night found them near Hawick, but there was no let up. Stragglers dropped behind and were left, until even Douglas-driven horse-flesh failed them, and they were forced to halt, high amongst the quiet shadowy hills where Teviot was born, and the burns began to flow westwards. They were but half-way to Solway, little more.
Black Douglas (Coronet Books) Page 30
