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The Price of the King's Peace bt-3

Page 38

by Nigel Tranter


  hastily-raised light cavalry force of about 8,000, raced south by

  west.

  West indeed they had raced, in a fashion never before attempted, Bruce using knowledge gained as a youth in wild fowling expeditions on the Solway marshes and coasts. At low tide, the great shallow West Coast estuaries, in North England as well as South Scotland, all but dried out; and the King now risked a great series of gamble with sea and tides. Avoiding all the normal and necessarily slow routes by the Border passes and the Cumberland mountains, he had led his galloping horsemen splashing across the successive daunting shallows of the Solway estuary, then south round the West Cumberland coastline by Silloth, Workington and Whitehaven, across the estuarine sands of the Esk, at Ravenglass, and the Duddon at Millom, into Fumess. Then on over the levels of Leven-mouth near Ulverston and so into Cartmel, finally thundering over the Kent-bank sands of wide Morecambe Bay and down upon Lancaster itself. By taking enormous risks with racing tides, quicksands and mud-banks, and the fording of innumerable channels, by the most skilful calculations of tidal-timing, the Scots force had descended, totally without warning and at an almost unbelievable speed, upon an area in the heart of England thought to be entirely immune, more than one hundred miles south of Car’ lisle-and, at Preston, slightly south even of York. All this in the course of a few hectic days.

  So now Preston burned and Robert Bruce watched it, sitting like a hunched eagle in his saddle. He hoped that he had come as far as need be, that Edward would take fright at this brazen intrusion on his right flank, and would call off the declared invasion of Scotland.

  With any true soldier and sound commander, he could have wagered on it; but this Edward Plantagenet was none such, an unpredictable law unto himself. Before the Scots the land lay soft, green and open to the Mersey -the late Lancaster’s territories, lord less now and in confusion. There was nothing to stop Bruce between here and Wales. But he had not come south for such conquest. He awaited couriers from Douglas. He had indeed been waiting for three days, since Lancaster burned. Preston was as much a filling in of time as added warning for King Edward.

  “There are rich towns on the Mersey, Sire,” Sir Alexander Fraser, his sister Mary’s husband, suggested hopefully.

  The King said nothing.

  “Give me but a thousand men and I will burn them all for you, my liege!” That was Sir Andrew Moray, his sister Christian’s latest spouse, fiercer fire-eater than his father.

  “No.”

  His third brother-in-law, Sir Hugh Ross, Matilda’s husband, was more diplomatic.

  “If we turned east here, Sire, and made for the passes between Ribble and Aire, and so into mid-Yorkshire, we would meet Douglas’s messengers, and also save our time.”

  “To no advantage,” the King replied.

  “Our purpose is to make Edward of Carnarvon call off his plans to invade Scotland. That only. We shall do it better by remaining a threat of unknown strength here in his West. The nearer we move to him, the more like he is to learn our true numbers. He has ten times our forces, man. We wait here until we hear from Douglas. The further south we drive, the greater danger of being cut off. Remember that we are dealing with Harcla now-a shrewd and able captain. If Edward heeds Harcla, we must needs watch our every step.”

  “An up sprung Cumberland squire!” the Chamberlain snorted.

  “I do not see the Despensers touching their caps to him!”

  “He fought Boroughbridge as I fought Bannockburn -and won.

  With like tactics. The Despensers lost their battle. Even Edward Plantagenet must heed Harcla now. As I do. We wait.”

  They had to wait until early evening of that day, in fact, before the

  looked-for couriers arrived, exhausted, on foundered horses, having had

  to ride half as far again as contemplated. This was because Douglas,

  Moray and the Steward were now far further north than Cleveland, they

  explained. They were retiring steadily towards Scotland. For King

  Edward was not to be distracted.

  Against Harcla’s advice, it was said-against even the Despensers’ advice-he was determined on his invasion of Scotland, the more so in that the rebel Bruce was not there to stop him. He and his main force were marching north with all speed, by the east route, Douglas retiring before him, as commanded.

  “And Harcla?” Bruce demanded.

  “What of Harcla?”

  “Harcla is sent, with 20,000 men, back to the West, Sire.

  Through the dales and the passes, by Wensley and Dee. To ensure that Your Grace does not get back to Scotland.”

  “So-0-0!” The King beat a mailed fist on his saddle.

  “The fool-the purblind fool!” he exclaimed.

  “And myself as great a fool! To have believed that Edward of England would ever act as a man with wits in his head! I have wasted my time and strength on a royal dolt! You-how far north was King Edward when you left Douglas?”

  “Near Darlington, Sire …”

  “Then he is sixty or seventy miles nearer Berwickon-Tweed than am I! With Harcla between us. See you how a misjudgement of one man’s temper may endanger an entire kingdom!” That was thrown at his companions. But Bruce’s glance was not on them. It was turned westwards towards the sunset and the sea.

  “How far ebbed is yonder tide?” he demanded, in a different voice.

  “You mean … you mean…?” Ross asked.

  “I mean, Hugh, that we go now. Go as we came. But faster.

  Much faster!”

  “But… the ships, Sire? MacDonald’s ships…?”

  “We cannot load 8,000 men and their horses on Angus’s galleys, man. And I shall need every man and every horse, in Scotland. I mean to meet Edward Plantagenet when he crosses my march! So we ride. Day and night. Across the sands again. Even if we must swim for it! Sound the trumpets, I say…!”

  Time may indeed be made to seem to wait for a sufficiently determined man; but the tides will do so for none, even kings-as another had found out before Bruce. The Scots did indeed cross the Border slightly before King Edward did, having avoided Harcla by keeping to the sea, practically in the sea, all the way. But they crossed Solway, whereas Edward crossed Tweed, the one a hard day’s riding southwest of the other, and some eighty miles apart.

  In consequence, although Douglas and the others gallantly sought to delay the English host all through the Merse, they could do little against twenty times their number. It was only some slight delay that they achieved, before the Lammermuir Hills passes, where a comparative few could hold up a legion. This Douglas did, Moray and the Steward hurrying on ahead to try to raise a defensive army at Stirling. But such delay could be only brief, inevitably.

  Numbers told, and Douglas had to fall back amongst the round green hills, to burn Lothian before the invaders, buying time for his monarch and friend.

  Bruce and his desperately weary host-or most of it-arrived at Stirling two days after Moray and the Steward. Drawn and gaunt with fatigue as he was, the King was by no means exhausted, nevertheless; indeed he seemed able now to draw on some hidden and scarcely believable fund of nervous energy, setting an almost impossible example to his lieutenants. Gulping down food and wine as he questioned Moray and others in Stirling Castle, he was rapping out orders the moment the tactical position began to become clear.

  The situation he uncovered was thus: Lothian was ablaze, and much of Edinburgh with it-this at Scots hands. Already the English advance-parties were in the city, with the main body pushing forward in the Haddington-Gladsmuir-Tranent area, a vast horde of over 100,000. A large English fleet had sailed up the Forth, and was now at Leith, the port of Edinburgh. Douglas, who had contested every pass of the Lammermuirs , had now fallen back, via the Moorfoot and Pentland Hills, organising the burning of all grain, food and forage stocks in the low ground as he went, and the fouling of wells. King Edward had travelled far and fast-for so huge a force-and therefore had far outdistanced his heavy baggage-trains.

  Food for man and beast was now h
is great, his only problem.

  “Scarcely his only problem, Thomas,” Bruce said.

  “He has still to cross Forth. It has stopped better soldiers than

  he!”

  “Those ships, Sire. At Leith. The word is that they are transports.

  Not food ships. Little food is being landed from them-desperately as it is needed. It seems that they have been sent to ferry the army across the estuary. The English will not be coming up here, to cross Stirling Bridge. Or not all of them. Two prongs, it may be. One on either side of Forth.”

  “Then we must prepare to receive them. In life, and here. How many men have you gathered?”

  “All too few, as yet, Sire. A general muster is ordered-but it will

  take time. There are some 5,000 here. Lennox has 2,000 on the way

  Sinclair, Bishop of Dunkeld is raising Stratheam. Menteith is marching. MacGregor and the nearer Highland clans are coming.

  And no doubt Bishop Lamberton is raising life-since its Earl is not like to!”

  “Aye. Then you will command here, Thomas. Hold Stirling and the bridge. I will take life. You will send on to me the forces as they come in. We do not know where Edward will choose to land, if he crosses Forth. But I cannot think that he will use wide crossings, with so many to transport. Moreover he will wish to take my seat of Dunfermline -that you may be sure. He will not cross east of Aberdour, I think. I will base myself midway between there and Stirling. At the port of Culross -that would be best. From there I could quickly come to your aid, if need be. Or strike east along the life coast Or even cross to the south shore, in small boats, to get in the English rear, should there be opportunity. And it is but a few miles from Dunfermline. Keep your 5,000 here, and have all other sent there.”

  “How long, think you, have we?”

  “Not long-if it was I who commanded. Only days. But with Edward of Carnarvon—who knows? Th English must be desperate for food. Because of the speed of their advance, and the land burned before them. Waiting in Edinburgh will serve them nothing. Unless they have more ships coming north, with provision and fodder. Their strategy is to attack us quickly, while they are strong and we are not. So we must use what forces we have-and thank God for every day He grants us for more aid to come up. I sent commands to Galloway, Annandale and Carrick, to muster, as we came up. Many thousands will come from these-but not within a week.”

  “Walter Stewart has ridden on, Sire. To Dunfermline. To be with the Queen and the Court. To have all ready to flee northwards.

  We did not know how long Your Grace would be …”

  “That is well. But we will not have them to flee yet awhile, let us hope. This English army is great in numbers. But I cannot think that it is great in much else! It has been too swiftly put together.

  Insufficiently ordered. And I cannot believe it better led than that which failed at Bannockburn -for it has even less able commanders.

  Edward and young Despenser are babes in warfare! Had Harcla been in command, I would have been more fearful.”

  “The Despensers do not love Harcla, it is said. And King Edward does not trust him.”

  “For that the good Lord be praised! But-enough of this. I ride for Culross. My lord Chamberlain-I want messengers sent to every life burgh and provost, every village in South and East life.

  All shipping, boats and fishing-craft to be sent up-Forth to Culross.

  And fires to be lit everywhere along the shore. Inland also. Great fires, with much smoke. Burn straw, thatch, brushwood-what they will. So that from Edinburgh and the Lothian coast it will seem as though all life is being burned, as Lothian has been. That there will be no food for the hungry English there! It may discourage Edward from his sailing. Aye-but tell the Fifers to be ready to fire the food and forage in truth, if and when the enemy sails. But meantime, let the smoke serve …”

  August 1322 was wet and cold and windy. In it, East Scotland smoked, while still King Edward sat in Holyrood Abbey, at Edinburgh, and did not move. Every chill, rain-soaked day of it the Scots forces grew in numbers and preparedness, at Stirling and Culross. Probing English sallies were made south and west, into Ettrick Forest’s outskirts and North Clydesdale, in especial-but these were in search of cattle, sheep, even deer, and grain and hay, sustenance for 100,000 hungry men, and rather fewer hungry horses, since the latter were now being eaten. The Scots’ grim joke was that the invaders were settled down to wait for this year’s harvest.

  It was no secret in Edinburgh-and therefore to Bruce’s innumerable spies therein-that Edward was in fact waiting for a provisioning fleet to sail up from the Humber. A wiser commander would surely have organised this somewhat earlier.

  When Bruce heard the reason for the English delay, he sent immediate word to his Lord High Admiral, Angus Og, now recruiting legions of Islesmen, amongst the Hebrides, to send to the aid of his friend. The King’s request-he never sent commands to the Lord of the Isles-was that he cease these activities forthwith, and drive with his galleys, with all their famed speed, up and round the north coasts of Scotland, through the Pentland Firth, and so down the eastern seaboard, to intercept Edward’s victualling fleet if at all possible. How many days it would take these wolves of the sea to make the difficult 500-mile circuit depended on the winds and tides, as well as on strong men’s sinews. But the MacGregor himself an expert on galleys, come limping from Loch Lomondside with his Children of the Mist, declared that he could do it in five days and nights of even winter seas. Though MacDonalds, of course, were not MacGregors …!”

  Be that as it may, on the 10th of August a single long, low galley

  came racing up Forth from the open sea, its great square sail painted with the black Galley of the Isles, its double-banked oars raising a curtain of spray on either side. On board was young John of Islay, Angus’s son and heir, little more than a boy, but splendid in antique Viking-style winged-helm and golden chain-mail. He announced that his father’s full strength, in ships, now lay in the Tay estuary, hidden, with scouting craft as far south as Berwick and the Fames. There had been no sign of any English fleet-save what they had glimpsed, in passing, in Leith harbour. Did the Lord Robert want that routed out, and sunk?

  Laughing, in his relief and satisfaction, Bruce declined this particular service meantime, and knighted the young man there and then.

  By the third week in August there was still no sign of the victualling fleet. The cold, wet and unseasonable northerly winds continued, and the Islesmen’s protracted vigil must have been a sore one.

  Presumably it was the said contrary winds which delayed the English ships-or else treachery at home, from whence rumours of new revolts of rebellious barons came daily. King Edward ventured neither upon the Forth nor along its Lothian shores, westwards.

  The tales from famine-stricken Edinburgh were harrowing.

  Bruce had now some 25,000 men assembled, the majority at Culross, some 8,000 at Stirling. He had even sent a couple of thousand Highlanders south to reinforce Douglas in the Forest, from which that stalwart was assailing the English lines of communication and preventing food-trains and cattle-herds from winning northwards through the hills.

  On the 2nd of September, Holyrood Abbey went up in flames, and a valedictory slaughter took place in unhappy Edinburgh. It was the equally unhappy Plantagenet’s leave-taking. He turned his petulant and haggard face to the south, and led-if that is the word-his now semi-mutinous host homewards. Knowing too well the burned and smoking desert of East Lothian and the Merse, they took the hill road this time, by Soutra and Lauderdale and the eastern skirts of the Forestbut found neither food nor comfort there, for now Douglas gave them no rest. Out-of-hand, unruly, the English were easy prey for that hardened scourge of their kind. He and his slew and slew, but seemed to make only little impact on the vast, sprawling, starving thousands. There was nothing like a battle, nor even a standing fight. The nearest to anything of the sort was when Douglas came rushing to the rescue of Melrose Abbey, that lovely fane where Leader joined Tweedbut not before mos
t of the rose-red buildings were ablaze and Abbot William Peebles and many of his monks crucified or otherwise shamefully slaughtered.

  It was a disorganised and demoralised rabble, of barely half the numbers that had gone north, which crossed the Border on the 5th and 6th of September, the King and the Despensers spurring far ahead. Northumberland thereafter wilted and cringed under the infamous influx.

  Douglas followed on, direly busy.

  It did not seem so long since Elizabeth de Burgh had been concocting activities to keep her husband’s mind off himself. Now, despite her pleas that he hold back, rest awhile, himself was not to be considered. The words sickness and leprosy had not passed his lips in months. He saw opportunity wide before him, and was not the man to fail to take it. He had an un blooded army standing impatient, and an enemy in hopeless rout and confusion, their land defenceless. He sent some mounted reinforcements for the busy Douglas; besought Angus Og to continue down the English east coast with his ships; and, saying good-bye to his protesting Queen, left Lamberton, Lennox and Abbot Bernard in charge of his kingdom and set off with Moray and Walter Stewart for England once more, with a picked force of 20,000 light cavalry and Highlanders.

  The iron was hot, he said. He would forge a lasting peace out of it, for Scotland, if it was the last thing he did.

  It was early October before Bruce and Douglas joined forces.

  They met deep in the North Riding of Yorkshire, indeed just three miles

  from Northallerton, on the same hill where, nearly two centuries

  earlier, the King’s ancestor, David the First, had suffered resounding

  defeat at the Battle of the Standard. Bruce had come, more slowly this

  time-for now his host was an army, even though a small one, and no

  mere swift raiding force-once more by the tidal sand of Solway and

  Cumberland, since he had no wish, at this stage, to try conclusions

  with Harcla, sulking at Carlisle. Then, hearing that King Edward was

 

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