‘The King the swift ships with the floodSet out, with the autumn approaching,And sailed from the port, calledHrafnseyri (the raven tongue of land).The boats passed over the broad trackOf the long ships; the sea raging,The roaring tide was furious around the ships’ sides.’”
‘The King the swift ships with the floodSet out, with the autumn approaching,And sailed from the port, calledHrafnseyri (the raven tongue of land).The boats passed over the broad trackOf the long ships; the sea raging,The roaring tide was furious around the ships’ sides.’”
The memory of the Norwegian giant who held the bridge was perpetuated by the people of Stamford, for Drake tells us that they “have a custom, at an annual feast, to make pies in the form of a swill, or swine tub, which tradition says was made use of by the man who struck the Norwegian on the bridge, instead of a boat.”
Harold is accused of having disgusted his army by refusing them a share of the spoil; but this is difficult to reconcile with the known generous character of the man; and no prince could have been more nobly seconded by his troops than was Harold on the field of Senlac.
Brief indeed was the victor’s respite from the dangers of the field; for, as he was presiding at a great feast of his chieftains and officers at York, a messenger entered the hall in haste, anddelivered his ominous message that William of Normandy had disembarked his army at Pevensey, unopposed, on the 29th of September.
The march south was at once commenced; and on the 14th of October a murderous battle was fought at Senlac, raging with unwavering fury from sunrise to sunset. King Harold, his brothers Leofwin and Gurth, fell in the front of battle, with the flower of the army; and from that day the Norman rule commenced in England.
William, Duke of Normandy, landed at Pevensey on the eve of St. Michael, 1066, and cast up fortifications for the protection of his army. Not venturing to penetrate into the country, he awaited the approach of the Saxon army. He had not long to wait. The route from York to Hastings was covered by forced marches, and, with a decimated and wearied army, Harold Godwinson took up his position before the Norman host. His rear was protected by rising ground; his front and flanks by trenches and huge wooden piles. He had especially to fear the Norman cavalry and archers, and took every precaution to defend his troops against them.
On the eve of the battle the Saxons regaled themselves with strong ale, and chanted legendary songs by their bivouac fires; but the Normans occupied themselves in religious services, as befitted hired cut-throats and the “scum of Europe.”
Harold’s banner, embroidered in gold with the figure of a warrior, in battle attitude, was fixed near the “hoar apple tree.” The men of Wessex brought with them their great banner, emblazoned with a golden dragon.
On the 14th October, Harold’s birthday, the battle was fought. The Norman army advanced in three lines: the light infantry and archers under Roger de Montgomerie; the men-at-arms under Martel; and the knights, esquires, and picked men-at-arms under the command of the Duke.
As the Normans advanced they raised the song of Roland, and the minstrel Taillefer claimed first blood, as a sturdy Saxon fell to his sword.
The Norman archers shot their arrows fast and well, point-blank against the Saxons, but the palisades proved a most efficient protection, and from their bows, and slings, and military machines, the Saxons replied, but they were not famous in missile warfare. Then the Norman lines closed on front and flanks, with thrust of lance, and fierce axe-play against the stout wooden piles, and all the while the heavy Saxon twibils rose and fell, crashing through Norman helm and shield, as horse and rider bit the dust, and from the Saxonrear the heavy javelins came whirling through the air. The dead and wounded lay thick on both sides of the palisades, and blood trickled and curdled in the dust. With unflinching courage the conflict was maintained, amid a tumult of discordant sounds: the clash and clatter of steel against steel, the groans of the wounded, and the sudden death-yells of those whose spirits fled as the axes came crashing through helm and brain-pan, or lance was driven sheer through corset and breast: above the heat and roar of themeleepealed the Saxon war-cry: “Christ’s Rood! the Holy Rood!” answered by the sonorous Norman death-cry: “Our lady of help! God be our help!”
The day sped to the heat and languor of the mid October noon, and the Normans toiled before the Saxon front, and belted it with flashing steel.
With painful anxiety Duke William saw his repeated charges spent against the Saxon army, saw his ranks shaken and thinned, without one foot of ground being won. He now bade his archers shoot high in the air, so that their arrows might descend upon the heads of the Saxons. By this the slaughter was dreadfully increased within the Saxon lines, but the warriorswere unshaken in their resolution to maintain their ground.
Along the front the Saxons nobly avenged their slaughtered brethren, and William poured his whole army against them in a murderous charge. Quicker rose and fell the Saxon axes, and, recoiling from the shock, the surging mass of mail-clad warriors rolled down the ravine, between two hills, and many men were trampled to death by the struggling horses. Surely a charge of heavy cavalry would, at this crisis, have secured the throne and crown of Harold. Thrice the stalwart form of Norman William sank amid the surges, as three horses were slain beneath him. A cry arose that the Duke was slain, and panic and defeat appeared inevitable, when William rode, bare-headed, among his warriors, and reformed their ranks.
During the dreadful carnage, Harold maintained the van, fighting with heroic courage, although suffering severely from an arrow-wound which had destroyed one of his eyes. William’s strenuous efforts were nobly seconded by his officers, and especially by his half-brother, Odo, the warlike bishop of Bayeux. Foiled in every attempt to penetrate the Saxon lines, and hopeless ofbeating them out of their defences, William drew the Saxons by a feigned retreat of his cavalry, and on passing the broken ground, turned upon them, and cut them to pieces. Twice was the ruse repeated, and although the Saxons maintained their position with undaunted front, their ranks were terribly thinned and shaken.
The charges were repeated, again and again, and the Normans rolled back in blood. The day waned, but the desperate attacks were foiled. At length a number of palisades were displaced, and the Norman horse bit into the Saxon masses, hewing a bloody pathway, and paying heavily for every foot they won. Twenty knights vowed to take Harold’s banner, and William of Normandy, rendered desperate by his peril, was anxiously seeking the Saxon hero. The conflict inside the palisades was tremendous. Harold’s brothers, Gurth and Leofwin, perished in the van: the King was slain; there was a bloody rally round the royal banner; ten of the Norman knights were hewn down, but the banner was captured, and the Norman flag elevated in its place. Still the Saxons would not fly; the “Golden Dragon” was taken, and they were reduced to a mere mob of struggling warriors. The grey of eveningmerged into the dusk of night before the retreat commenced. In retreat they were almost as dangerous as in battle, and repeatedly turned and drew Norman blood. The Normans were driven back, William advanced to their succour, and while their leader, Eustace of Boulogne, was whispering in the Duke’s ear, he was struck on the back by a heavy Saxon axe, and fell, insensible, from his horse, the blood gushing from his mouth and nostrils.
The Normans, relaxing the pursuit, rode their horses over the slain Saxons, in savage elation, before returning solemn thanks to God for the victory.
Gurtha, the mother of Harold, came to beg the hero’s body, to give it burial; but William is reported to have refused, ordering the corse to be buried on the strand, remarking, with unknightly anger—“He guarded the coast while he was alive, let him thus continue to guard it after death.” The dead King was, however, interred in Waltham Abbey, which he had founded and endowed; or, if Tovi, Canute’s standard-bearer, was the original founder of the abbey, yet Harold was largely its benefactor.
On the field of Senlac King William built thefamous Battle Abbey, that priests might perpetually pray for the souls of the slain, but, as Palgrave remarks:—“All this pomp and solemnity has passed away like a dream. The ‘perpetual prayer’ has ceased for ever—the roll of Battle is rent—the shields of the Norman lieges are trodden in the dust—the Abbey is levelled to the ground—and a dark and reedy pool fills the spot where the foundations of the quire have been uncovered, merely for the gaze of the idle visitor, or the instruction of the moping antiquary.”
Yorkshire endured terrible evils at the hands of the Conqueror, as he penetrated its wilds with his famous bowmen and men-at-arms.
The year 1068 witnessed a Northumbrian revolt, which was easily quelled; but a more determined effort to cast off the Norman yoke was made in the following year. The events are thus recorded in the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle,” and were graphically realized by the acutely sympathetic mind of the Rev. Charles Kingsley in his stirring story of “Hereward, the last of the English.” The accuracy of the latter part of the title of his novel is, however, generally disputed:
“A.D. 1068—This year King William gave the earldom of Northumberland to earl Robert,[43]and the men of that country came against him, and slew him and 900 others with him. And then Edgar etheling marched with all the Northumbrians to York, and the townsmen treated with him; on which King William came from the south with all his troops, and sacked the town, and slew many hundred persons. He also profaned St. Peter’s minster, and all other places, and the etheling went back to Scotland.
“After this came Harold’s sons from Ireland, about Midsummer, with sixty-four ships, and entered the mouth of the Taff, where they incautiously landed. Earl Beorn came upon them unawares with a large army, and slew all their bravest men; the others escaped to their ships, and Harold’s sons went back again to Ireland.
“A.D. 1069—This year died Aldred, Archbishop of York, and he lies buried in his cathedral church. He died on the festival of Protus and Hyacinthus, having held the see with much honour ten years, all but fifteen weeks.
“Soon after this, three of the sons of Sweyne came from Denmark with 240 ships, together with earl Osbern and earl Thorkill, into the Humber, where they were met by child Edgar and earl Waltheof, and Merle-Sweyne, and earl Cospatric[44]with the men of Northumberland and all the landsmen riding and marching joyfully with an immense army; and so they went to York, demolished the castle, and found there large treasures. They also slew many hundred Frenchmen, and carried off many prisoners to their ships; but, before the shipmen came thither, the Frenchmen had burned the city, and plundered and burnt St. Peter’s minister. When the King heard of this, he went northward with all the troops he could collect, and laid waste all the shire; whilst the fleet lay all the winter in the Humber, where the King could not get at them. The King was at York on Midwinter’s day, remaining on land all the winter, and at Easter he came to Winchester.”
It was on the 19th of September that the Danes and Northumbrians entered York, and, amid the flame and smoke of burning houses, stormed the Norman stronghold, and put the garrison to the sword. Egbert, the seventh Archbishop of York, had founded a valuable library in the city, but it was utterly consumed in the flames.
The triumph of King William was not so easily achieved as might be supposed from the accountgiven in the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle;” and had he not succeeded in buying off the Danish fleet, it is quite possible that all the fruit of his great victory at Senlac might have been swallowed up at York. Although the Northumbrians were not strong enough to brave the Normans in open field, they defended York against all the attacks of the King’s troops for a period of six months, and the garrison only surrendered when they were in danger of perishing from starvation.
During the siege Waltheof Siwardsson especially distinguished himself, and on one occasion defended, single-handed, a breach in the city-wall, dashing out the brains of the Normans as they came within the sweep of his axe.
In the first burst of rage on receiving news of the slaughter of the Norman garrison, William vowed to lay the whole of Northumbria in ashes, and he carried out with ruthless severity this rash and cruel resolution. The troops who fought beneath his banner were mercenary cut-throats, the fit agents of his vengeance, and they addressed themselves to the work of destruction with a keen appreciation. The peasantry fell by the edge of the sword, neither age nor sex being respected: the shrieking children were mingled in the commonruin. Cottages were fired, orchards hewn down, the instruments of husbandry destroyed, and every energy was bent to the destruction of human life, and to ensure by starvation the death of those whom the sword failed to reach. For nine years after the storm had passed over the devoted province, the ground remained untilled, and the villages unrestored. The wretched fugitives who hid their heads in forests and caves were driven to feed upon the flesh of unclean cats and dogs, and finally they endeavoured to prolong their miserable lives by the last resort to cannibalism. It is computed that one hundred thousand persons perished in a district of sixty miles in length. The sea-ports were subjected to the same severities, that, in case of further Danish invasions, the ships might be unable to obtain supplies.
York itself was not spared by the ruthless Norman. The prisoners, who had been delivered into William’s hands by the extreme pangs of famine, were put to the sword, and the city was given to the flames.
During his expedition to Northumbria, William narrowly escaped receiving the reward of his demerits, an example of poetic justice that wouldhave been particularly striking to the historian, and useful to the moralist.
While on the march from Hexham to York, he became involved in a wild and unknown country; his horses perished, his soldiers were reduced to the extremes of suffering and privation; and William missed his way, in the obscurity of a night-march, and was reduced to a state of great anxiety, not to say fear, being uncertain of the ground over which he wandered, and equally uncertain of the direction in which his troops were marching.
The North continued to suffer from war and invasion. Malcolm wasted Northumberland,A.D.1079, and his wild Scots invaded the country as far as the Tyne, and re-entered Scotland with much spoil, and many prisoners.
The bishopric of Durham had been bestowed upon Walcher of Lorraine, and as he equally governed by crozier and sword, taxing the people heavily, and allowing his Norman mercenaries to plunder, insult, and slay his flock at their pleasure, he was bitterly hated; and, when his servant Gilbert murdered Liulf, a noble Englishman, who had married Jarl Siward’s widow, the mother of the heroic Waltheof, their rage knew no bounds.Walcher consented to confer with the Northumbrians at Gateshead, and was attended by a large escort. Every Englishman carried a weapon with him, concealed beneath his garment, and the bishop, becoming alarmed for his life, took refuge in the church, which was speedily fired, when the murderer and his accomplice were driven out, and received a summary requital for their crime. Compelled to sally out by flame and smoke, the bishop appeared among the raging multitude, his face wrapped in the skirt of his robe. There was silence, then a voice gave the death-words: “Good rede, short rede! slay ye the bishop!” and the protector of murderers was slain. His escort of a hundred men, Normans and Flemings, died beneath Northumbrian steel in that awful hour, only two of his servants, menials of English birth, being saved.
Vengeance was delegated to Odo of Bayeux, and there was no Hereward, no Waltheof to welcome him with blood-wet steel. He entered Durham unopposed, a Norman army at his back, and slew or maimed all the men that he could find.
Seven years later, and William lay dying in the monastery of St. Gervas, passing to his lastaccount at sunrise on the 9th of September, as the bells of St. Mary tolled the hour of prime. His last words were: “I recommend my soul to my Lady Mary, the holy mother of God.”
Rufus succeeded, and in his reign the King’s army besieged Durham Castle, and received its surrender. This arose from the revolt of Odo of Bayeux, who was captured at Rochester Castle, and sent out of the country, to the sound of Saxon curses and the triumphant strains of Saxon trumpets, for the proud prelate who had cursed England with his presence since the day of Senlac was conquered by Saxon steel at last.
The North was again ravaged by the Scots,A.D.1091, when Rufus marched to protect it, and “Edgar Atheling mediated a peace between the kings.” The following year saw the King again in the North, with a large following, when, “he repaired the city (Carlisle), and built the castle. And he drove out Dolfin, who had before governed that country, and having placed a garrison in that castle he returned into the South, and sent a great number of rustic Englishmen thither, with their wives and cattle, that they might settle there and cultivate the land.”
A.D.1093.—“King Malcolm returned home to Scotland, and as soon as he came thither, he assembled his troops and invaded England, ravaging the country with more fury than behoved him: and Robert, Earl of Northumberland, with his men, lay in wait for him, and slew him unawares. He was killed by Moræl of Bamborough, the earl’s steward, and King Malcolm’s own godfather: his son Edward, who, had he lived, would have been King after his father, was killed with him. When the good Queen Margaret heard that her most beloved lord, and her son, were thus cut off, she was grieved in spirit unto death, and she went with her priest into the church, and having gone through all befitting rites, she prayed of God that she might give up the ghost.”
The Northern province had little rest from marching armies, sieges, and battles. In the Easter of 1095, Robert, Earl of Northumberland, treated with contempt the King’s summons to attend the court at Winchester; whereon the King took an early opportunity of attacking him, seized his principal servants and officers, took Tynemouth Castle, and after vainly besieging Bamborough, built a castle,Malveisin, or “evil neighbour,”over against it, and leaving therein a strong garrison departed. After the King’s departure, the earl sallied out one night, riding towards Tynemouth, when a part of the garrison ofMalveisinpursued after him, carried him off, wounded, and slew or captured his attendants. On this Rufus ordered his captains to carry Northumberland to Bamborough Castle, and summon it to surrender, threatening to put out the earl’s eyes if the castle continued to hold out. The scheme was successful, the countess—a young and beautiful woman, recently married to Northumberland—at once surrendered, when the unhappy earl was condemned to a life-long imprisonment.
The mysterious death of William Rufus, who was found in the New Forest, slain by an arrow, on the 2nd of August,A.D.1100, was followed by the accession of Henry I., when the Northern provinces of the island enjoyed a period of unwonted repose, which was terminated by the usurpation of Stephen of Blois, when the Scottish invasions re-commenced, and the battle of the Standard was fought.
During these years York was steadily rising from its ashes, after the Conqueror’s fiery chastisement, when, on the 4th June, 1137, a fire accidentlybroke out, and the city was again consumed.
Of the patriots who combatted so valiantly against the Conqueror during the invasion of Northumbria, Earl Edwin was slain in 1071, being betrayed to the Normans by three of his servants; Morkar, after joining Hereward in the famous Camp of Refuge, fell into the hands of the King, and was cast into prison, pursuant to a sentence of imprisonment for life, but, when the Conqueror lay on his death-bed, he ordered his release, and William Rufus immediately re-committed him to prison; Earl Cospatrick was banished for the slaughter of the Normans at Durham and York, and received honours and lands from the King of Scotland. Hereward was murdered by the Normans, but exacted an heroic price for his life.
The crown which the Conqueror won at Hastings was fated to pass from the direct male line of succession in the third generation.
Robert, the eldest of King William’s sons, was passed over by his father, who transmitted the crown to Rufus. When that violent, but not wholly ungenerous, prince was slain in the New Forest Prince Henry, the Conqueror’s youngest son, usurped the crown, and ultimately overcame his brother Robert, seized his Duchy of Normandy, and condemned him to a life-long imprisonment.
Each of the brothers had a son bearing the name of his grandsire, and it appeared certain that the feud of the fathers would be perpetuated by the children.
William, son of Robert, had many stout friends, and enjoyed, in a special degree, the protectionof the King of France; hence wars and revolts arose in the King’s usurped Duchy of Normandy, and it seemed probable that when King Henry died the duchy would be re-conquered by Robert’s son. All the energies of King Henry were therefore turned to securing the duchy for his son. In the year 1120 he carried the prince to Normandy, and, by his valour and address in the field, seconded by his crafty policy, he succeeded in restoring peace and order in the duchy, and also in detaching his nephew’s chief supporters from his cause.
When about to sail from Barfleur, he was accosted by an ancient mariner, who claimed that his father had piloted the Conqueror to England in 1066, and besought the honour of now carrying King Henry across the Channel. The King had already made his arrangements, but he entrusted Prince William and his suite to the care of Fitz-Stephen. It was a serene, moonlight night when theBlanche Nefsailed, but the prince had provided too generously for the good cheer of the mariners, and a drunken and careless crew carried him to his fate. TheBlanche Nefstruck on the rocks of the Ras de Catte, and rapidly filled. Prince William was hastily thrust into the ship’sboat, but he insisted upon attempting the rescue of his half-sister, and vainly, but generously, sacrificed his life in the endeavour.
The position of Duke Robert’s son was apparently more hopeful now that he was the only lineal male heir to the throne. King Henry was not, however, the less earnest in his endeavours to transmit all his dignities to his own children. Thus reads the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle,” for 1127:—“This year at Christmas, King Henry held his court at Windsor, and David, King of Scotland, was there, and all the headmen of England, both clergy and laity. And the King caused the archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, and all the thanes who were present, to swear to place England and Normandy, after his death, in the hands of his daughter the princess, who had been the wife of the Emperor of Saxony. And then he sent her to Normandy, accompanied by her brother Robert, Earl of Gloucester, and by Brian, the son of the Earl Alan Fergan; and he caused her to be wedded to the son of the Earl of Anjou, named Geoffrey Martel.”
In the following year the brief, but brilliant, career of Prince William came to an end. After a most honourable campaign, whilst “he wasbesieging Eu against King Henry, and expected on the morrow to receive its surrender, for the enemy was almost worn-out, the young man died of a slight wound in the hand, leaving behind him an endless name.”
Robert of Normandy fulfilled the number of his days in the year 1134. No doubt the statement of Matthew Paris was quite correct:—“When the King heard of his death, he did not grieve much, but commanded the body to be reverently interred in the conventual church of Gloucester.”
King Henry had reigned many years, and committed many crimes to secure his crown, but, such is the irony of fate, he was not permitted to enjoy his triumph long, for, on the 1st of December, he died through over-indulgence in supping on lampreys, and, to use the expressive ambiguity of Carlyle, “went to his own place, wherever that might be.”
Prominent among the nobles of England was Stephen, Count of Blois, the son of the Conqueror’s daughter Adela, and the first peer of the realm—a position which he put to the proof when the oath of allegiance was taken to the ex-Empress Matilda, Robert, Duke of Gloucester, havingvainly claimed precedence, although he could only claim as the natural son of the King.
Stephen was a brave, generous, and popular noble, and both the peers and commons of England would have preferred his rule to that of the King’s daughter; when, therefore, he made claim to the throne no opposition was raised. “For when the nobles of the kingdom were assembled at London, he promised that the laws should be reformed to the satisfaction of every one of them, and William, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was the first of all the nobles to take the oath of fidelity to the Empress as Queen of England, now consecrated Stephen to be King. In fine, all the bishops, earls, and barons who had sworn fealty to the King’s daughter and her heirs gave their adhesion to King Stephen, saying that it would be a shame for so many nobles to submit themselves to a woman.”
Having obtained the crown, Stephen assisted in burying the corpse of his uncle, being one of those who sustained the coffin on their shoulders. How suggestive such a scene must have appeared to many who were present. The dead King had broken the closest ties of relationship and blood in obtaining the crown; the retribution that tookthe shape of his son’s untimely death was to some extent compensated by the death of his nephew; but no sooner is the old King dead than his nephew usurps the crown, maugre his vows of allegiance to Matilda, and piously assists in conveying him to the grave.
For the moment no man seemed disposed to maintain the claims of the ex-Empress: the first to move on her behalf being her uncle David, King of Scotland, a humane and religious prince, who occupied the same relationship to Stephen’s wife that he did to the ex-Empress.
In his first invasion David succeeded in occupying Carlisle and Newcastle, but being confronted by Stephen at the head of a powerful army, a treaty was entered into at Durham, whereby King David engaged to abandon hostilities on certain territorial concessions being made to him. Thrice in one year Northumbria was inundated by the wild Scots, and Stephen, harassed by his treacherous barons, could only avenge his unhappy subjects by laying waste the frontiers of Scotland.
The wildest storm of war swept over Northumbria in the year 1138, the unfortunate inhabitants of that province being mercilessly slaughteredin requital for the sins of their princes and nobles—sins in which they had neither art nor part. David was deeply afflicted by the enormous cruelties which his troops perpetrated, but he was utterly unable to control their passions, and endeavoured to quieten his conscience by condemning the acts of his armies, and by his royal munificence to the church—James the First expressed his appreciation of the liberality of his predecessor by remarking that, “He kythed a sair saint to the crown.”
The tumultuary army which followed him “consisted of Normans, Germans, and English, of Cumbrian Britons, of Northumbrians, of men of Teviotdale and Lothian, of Picts commonly called men of Galloway, and of Scots.”
Barely threescore years and ten had elapsed since William the Norman had carried fire and sword through Northumbria. The charred and blackened ruins of grange and village were not yet entirely hidden by the dense growth of bramble and thorn; and the human bones, that had been gnawed by the wolves in their midnight banquets in the evil days that succeeded the Confessor’s death, had not yet mouldered into their kindred earth.
It was in the wild and stormy season of the opening spring of 1138 that King David commenced his operations.
Shaken to its centre, Northumbria lay at the mercy of the invader: again the sword reaped its bloody harvest, again the torch performed its evil office, and the midnight skies were illumined by the glare of burning homesteads and villages. The highways and byeways were strewn with the dead: with the gashed clay of strong men, of women, and of little children. Age and womanhood lay together in dishonoured death; the white hairs and the flowing tresses trodden in the same bloody mire, and, most cruel spectacle! the little babes, pierced and shattered by spears, lay where they had been cast in fiendish sport by the pitiless barbarians. The blood of the priests reeked upon the altars of the most High God, and the sacred fanes were heaped with the sweltering corruption of slain worshippers. Miserable fugitives turned their faces towards the Humber, striving to escape the hot-footed Scot, who pressed so keen and fast upon their track.
The remnant of the maddened people, desperate in their despair, only required a leader to organise and direct their strength.
Thurstan, the aged Archbishop of York, although bowed down to the verge of the grave by the weight of many years and infirmities, came forward to organise the strength of his afflicted people. Stephen being unable to disengage himself from the toils of his revolted barons, the civil war having already broken out in the south, despatched Bernard de Baliol to the north, at the head of a body of men-at-arms. The real strength of the movement was, however, the combination of those eminent northern barons, William, Earl of Albemarle, Robert de Ferrars, William Percy, Roger de Mowbray, Ilbert de Lacy, and the veteran Walter l’Espec, who, responding with prompt energy to the supplications of Archbishop Thurstan, gathered their vassals together, and prepared to take the field, as soon as all arrangements were completed, and the widely scattered strength of the North was concentrated.
To draw the people to one standard, and to animate them with an unconquerable fortitude, was the peculiar work of the Archbishop; but, being too infirm to take a public part in the exciting scenes which were being enacted, he deputed Ralph Nowel, the titular Bishop of Orkney, tocarry out his plans. This prelate caught the spirit of his superior, and a signal success rewarded his efforts. Processions of the clergy were organised, and the exhibition of crosses, relics, and religious banners, tended to increase the devoted courage of the superstitious peasantry. The whole of the male population was called to arms, and a certain victory was promised, with a quick transition into paradise for those who perished on the field. Thirsk was the rendezvous, and, as the news was carried through the province, men-at-arms and knights came trooping in, attended by the desperate peasantry, whose rude arms, and lack of defensive armour, but ill befitted them for what promised to be so dubious and sanguinary an enterprise.
Three days were occupied in fasting and devotion: the troops then took a common vow of adherence to each other, victory being most emphatically promised them. Nerved by every art of the church, by their own desperate position, and by their thirst for vengeance, they encamped around the grand standard which Thurstan had raised at Elfer-tun, to command their piety and patriotism. It consisted of a lofty spar, or mast, mounted on a huge four-wheeled car, andterminating in a large crucifix, with a silver box attached, containing the sacramental elements of the Romish Church. Around the mast waved the holy banners of the sainted Peter of York, Wilfrid of Ripon, and John of Beverley. Hugo de Sotevagina, Archdeacon of York, inscribed this remarkable rhyme on the foot of the mast:—
“Dicitur a stando standardum quod stitit illicMilitæ probitas vincere sive mori.Standard, from stand, this fight we aptly call:Our men here stood to conquer or to fall.”
“Dicitur a stando standardum quod stitit illicMilitæ probitas vincere sive mori.
Standard, from stand, this fight we aptly call:Our men here stood to conquer or to fall.”
From the turn of the lines we should infer that the inscription was affixed subsequent to the battle.
Norman baron and Saxon peasant had not long to wait the trial of strength. The summer was now far advanced, for David had been detained before the strong fortress of Norham; but that stronghold once in his hands, he marched onward, unopposed, until he approached the neighbourhood of York. His standard was simply a wreath of blooming heather, attached to a long lance. Eustace Fitz-John commanded the guard of completely accoutred knights and men-at-arms which attended Prince Henry, the commander of the first division, comprising Lowlanders, defended by cuirasses, and armed with long pikes;the archers of Teviotdale and Liddesdale; the troopers of Cumberland and Westmoreland, riding small but useful horses; and the fierce Galwegians, destitute of defensive armour, and bearing long and slender pikes. The Highlanders and Islemen followed the first division, and carried target, claymore, and the ancient Danish war-axe. King David followed with a gallant body of Anglo-Norman and English knights, and a mixed corps of warriors, gathered from various parts of the land, brought up the rear.
With King David marched his warlike nephew, William MacDonoquhy, flushed with the memory of his victory at Clitheroe, where, on the 4th of June, he had defeated a strong force of the English, and gained much spoil.
The position of the Anglo-Norman barons was extremely peculiar; not only did King David claim Northumberland, where they held lands, but they acknowledged him for their liege lord, holding from him estates which were situate on the Scottish side of the border. Under these circumstances they prudently despatched Robert Bruce, Earl of Annandale, and Bernard de Baliol, to the Scottish camp, to offer terms to the King. If his Scottish Majesty would withdraw his army,and conclude a permanent peace, they engaged “to procure from Stephen a full grant of the earldom of Northumberland in favour of Prince Henry.”
The King was, however, firm in his resolution to maintain the cause of the ex-Empress; and William MacDonoquhy declared that Bruce was a false traitor. The two noblemen had no alternative but to renounce their allegiance to the Scottish crown, and to beat a hasty retreat to the English army.
The disposition of the Scottish army was then discussed, and David proposed to place his Saxon archers and Norman knights in the van, to commence the attack. Deep was the indignation of Malise, Earl of Strathearn, and bitter his protest against the King’s confidence in Norman mail. Said he, “I wear no armour; but there is not one among them who will advance beyond me this day.”
The Norman, Allan de Piercy, angrily protested that the “rude earl” boasted of that which he had not the courage to perform; whereon David checked the growing quarrel, and pacified Malise by ordering the Galwegians to take the van.
It was the 22nd day of August, the wide moor, gay with blooming heather, was involved in a land-mist, and, as a further cover to their approach, the wild Scots fired some villages. The English were, however, already formed around the standard, expectant of the inevitable conflict, and no doubt experienced neither alarm nor disappointment when Bruce and Baliol came in on the spur, and declared that the enemy was on the march.
Old Walter l’Espec spake a few soldierly words of hopeful exhortation to his warriors, then placed his ungloved hand in that of the Earl of Albemarle, with the dauntless exclamation, “I pledge thee my troth to conquer or to die.” Kindled to enthusiasm by the spirit of the valiant old man, the soldiers gripped each other’s hands, and the vow became general. Archbishop Thurstan’s representative was not slow to seize so favourable a moment for increasing the enthusiastic ardour of the troops, and he uttered a brief, but thrilling, harangue, in which, according to the old chroniclers, he at once flattered and provoked the emulous courage of the Anglo-Norman chivalry, by referring to the achievements of their ancestors; kindled their resentment by pointing them to thedesecrated altars of their churches; assured them of a swift and retributive vengeance; opened paradise to all who should fall sword in hand that day, and encouraged them by reminding them of their superiority over their enemies in respect of their arms and armour. The form of absolution was then read, and answered by the solemn “Amen” of the host. All was ready for the ordeal.
The knights and men-at-arms in both armies were similarly armed. “From the Conquest to the close of the twelfth century but little change had taken place in the armour and weapons of the English; but five distinct varieties of body-armour were worn by them about the time of the Standard—a scaly suit of steel, with achapelle de fer, or iron cap; a hauberk of iron rings; a suit of mascled or quilted armour; another of rings set edgewise; and a fifth of tegulated mail, composed of small square plates of steel lapping over each other like tiles, with a long flowing tunic of cloth below. Gonfarons fluttered from the spear-heads; and knights wore nasal helmets and kite-shaped shields of iron, but their spears were simply pointed goads.”
According to some accounts, the English men-at-arms were drawn up in a dense column, surroundingtheir holy standard; and the archers, consisting of peasants and yeomen from the woods and wolds of Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, and Nottingham, were posted in the van. It is certain that the Norman barons and the men-at-arms dismounted, and sent their horses to the rear, and the probability is that the mailed troops occupied the front of battle, and protected the archers, who were destitute of defensive armour. All the accounts of the battle favour this inference, although it is distinctly stated that the archers were broken, but afterwards rallied—a statement that seems incredible, for the English army being outflanked, the broken archers would have been cut to pieces, it being impossible for the dense column that surrounded the standard to open its ranks to receive the fugitives, while the charging Scots were pressing hot and hard upon their rear, and the action of the spearmen was retarded by the presence of the archers upon their front, as these unfortunates were being massacred by the enemy.
The Galwegians made the first charge, with Ulgrick and Dovenald leading. Their dreadful cries ofAlbanigh, Albanigh!(“We are the men of Albyn!”) rolled like thunder over the field, asthey rushed furiously upon the Norman men-at-arms, threatening to bear down all that withstood them with the forest of their long, thin pikes. The centre of the English army was pierced, but the formation was too dense to be shattered by a charge of pikemen, however furiously made, and the long pikes were broken upon shield and hauberk, or shivered by blow of sword and axe. The Galwegians bit deep, but fell in scores along the front, and as they recoiled from the meeting, the archers let fly a shower of shafts upon them. It was impossible to rally and re-form in the face of that storm of deadly shafts, beating as hard and fast as winter hail upon their naked bodies, and while numbers fell, weltering in their gore, the disordered masses began to retire, probably to the right and left, while the English taunted them with derisive cries of “Eyrych, Eyrych!” (“You are but Irish!”) which, Scott remarks, “must have been true of that part of the Galwegians called the wild Scots of Galloway, who are undoubtedly Scotch-Irish.”
As the men of Galloway staggered back from the storm of arrows, leaving Ulgrick and Dovenald dead upon the field, Prince Henry charged down upon the English with his knights andmen-at-arms upon the spur. With spear, and sword, and axe, he won a bloody pathway sheer through the English centre, and put to flight the servants who were posted in the rear of the army in charge of their masters’ horses. The oft-quoted expression of Alred, that “they broke through the English ranks as if they had been spiders’ webs,” must be regarded as largely figurative, for two reasons. In the first place, the Galwegians were re-forming with the utmost alacrity, and the other lines were bearing down fast and stern, yet the English ranks closed in before they could take advantage of the confusion caused by the cavalry, and presented an impenetrable front to the advancing Scots. In the second place, the prince achieved nothing by his charge, beyond chasing a few grooms from the field. On his return, he found the battle over, and passing undiscovered through the pursuing forces, succeeded, after many perils, in reaching Carlisle on the 28th of August.
There is a curious, but not over-reliable story, that in the perilous moment when the English were re-forming their ranks, and the remains of Prince Henry’s men-at-arms were dashing after the fugitives in the rear, an English soldier, with singular presence of mind, averted the impendingstorm by hewing off a Scotchman’s head, and bearing it, at point of spear, to the front, loudly exclaiming, “Behold the head of the King of the Scots.” Before this ominous spectacle the Galwegians fell back in a sudden panic, arresting the advance of the second line, and causing the third line to beat a hasty retreat without lifting weapon on the field. Bare-headed, King David rode amid the breaking ranks in a gallant effort to rally his soldiers; but all his efforts proving fruitless, he assumed the command of his cavalry, and protected, as far as possible, the retreat of his disorganised army.
There can, however, maugre this oft-told story, be no question that a tremendous battle raged for upwards of two hours. The devoted savages of Galloway rallied, and, supported by the second and third lines of their army, closed in upon the English, “after giving three shouts in the manner of their nation.” Thus the holy standard, and its heroic defenders, was belted with a wide and deep hem of raging enemies, who sought, with sword and axe, to hew a passage through the phalanx of spears that held them back. They combated fiercely together in a mist of dust and heat; blood flowed like water, and thetrampled earth was dreadful with the bodies of the slain; but no despoiling hand reached the standard; a hedge of glittering steel defended it, the Normans fenced it with flashing swords, the serried spears sustained the fierce attack, though indented here and there by the pressure of horse and men. The continuous shower of shafts from the archers sorely distressed and harassed the Scots, and abandoning all hope of breaking or hewing down the valiant enemy, around which they had drawn their triple line of warriors, they broke and fled. First the decimated remnant of the savage heroes of Galloway recoiled, and spread confusion through the second line, and then the outward hem of mixed troops, who had never struck blow, wavered and broke; and the battle of the Standard was lost and won.
David valiantly protected the retreat of his disordered army, leaving some 12,000 upon the field. He halted at Carlisle, in grave distress as to the fate of his son, who rejoined him three days later, as before mentioned. Quarrels took place in his army, and weapons were freely resorted to, and some blood shed.
The 200 mailed knights of King David lost nearly the whole of their horses, and only nineteencarried their harness from the field. The Norman barons were not particularly fortunate in making prisoners, but fifty knights fell to their spear and sword. Of these, William Cumin, the Scotch Chancellor, was detained in prison for a short time by the Bishop of Durham, and, on being liberated, “gave thanks to God,” desiring heartily that he never at any time should again meet with the like experience. His companions in affliction were ransomed about the time of the feast of All-Saints following.
The Scottish army having rallied at Carlisle, continued the war, besieged and reduced, by famine, Wark Castle; and carried away as prisoners a number of English women, who were ultimately restored to their friends through the good offices of Alberic, Bishop of Ostia, who, being seconded by King Stephen’s wife, succeeded in bringing about a peace, which was concluded on the 9th day of April, 1139.
Before the English army disbanded, Eustace Fitz-John, who had garrisoned Malton with Scotch troops, received their attention. In the conflict which ensued the town was stormed and given to the flames.
On this eventful day the English archers wontheir first laurels with the long bow and arrows, two cubits in length; and this sanguinary conflict derives an additional interest from the fact. As brave and experienced warriors, the captains would probably perceive and acknowledge the service performed by the Northumbrian infantry, but not one of them considered the possibility of a day dawning that would see the laurels of war bestowed upon the English archers, while the Anglo-Norman chivalry had to be contented with less honourable trophies of bravery and skill.
The reign of Stephen was cursed by the worst evils of civil war. The King was captured at Lincoln,A.D.1140, being deserted by many of his troops; but was afterwards exchanged for Robert, Earl of Gloucester, who had been taken prisoner by Stephen’s partisans. Ultimately Matilda’s son, Prince Henry, entered England, when it was arranged that he should succeed to the throne on the King’s death.
Under Henry’s rule happier days dawned upon the Kingdom.A.D.1160, a great Council was held at York, said to be the first of such assemblages to which the title of Parliament was applied. The King of Scots attended, with his nobles and clergy, and rendered feudal homage for his province of Lothian. Scott asserts that “homagewas done by the Scottish kings for Lothian, simply because it had been a part, or moiety, of Northumberland, ceded by Eadulf-Cudel, a Saxon Earl of Northumberland, to Malcolm II., on condition of amity and support in war, for which, as feudal institutions gained ground, feudal homage was the natural substitute and emblem.”
Malcolm, being greatly attached to the King of England, yielded to him all his possessions in Cumberland and Northumberland, possessions which Henry would probably have conquered had they not been ceded.
Malcolm was succeeded by his brother William, the declared enemy of England. Invading Northumberland, he was surprised near Alnwick Castle by Bernard de Baliol. Sixty cavaliers escorted him, and he made a desperate charge upon the English, exclaiming, “Now we shall see who are good knights.” He was unhorsed, and carried off to Newcastle on the spur. As the price of his liberty he performed feudal homage at York for the whole of Scotland, placing hostages and certain strongholds in King Henry’s hands.
Henry died, broken-hearted and conquered by the repeated revolts of his sons. On his accession Richard I. annuled the acts of his father,as regarded the independence of Scotland, but homage for Lothian was of course continued.
Early in 1190, a dreadful fire broke out in York, and rapidly spread, being fanned by a strong wind. During the confusion a number of thieves entered the house of a Jewish widow, slew her and her children, and plundered the house. Benedict, the husband of the murdered woman, had fallen in the massacre of Jews during King Richard’s coronation. Jocenus had attended Benedict to London, and had effected his escape with much difficulty. Being very wealthy he feared the fury of the mob, and took refuge in the castle, carrying with him his treasures. His example was largely followed by the Jews. The governor of the castle sallied out, leaving it in the hands of the refugees. On his return he was largely accompanied, and the Jews, in their fear, refused to admit him. He at once raised the country, and besieged the castle. Their offer of ransom being rejected, in their despair the Jews resolved to kill themselves, after destroying their property and setting fire to the fortress. Jocenus cut the throats of his wife and five children, and this dreadful example was largely followed. The less courageous of theJews then appealed to the besiegers, told the story of the tragedy, and, as proof, threw at their feet several mangled corpses. Protection was promised to the survivors, when the gates were thrown open. The besiegers entered, and completed the extermination of the Jews. The cathedral was then visited, and the bonds and securities of the Jews, deposited there for safe keeping, were destroyed.
William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, was deputed to punish the offenders. He appointed Osbert de Longchamp governor of the county; and the sheriff and governor of the castle were deprived of their offices, and cast into prison. Fines were inflicted on many citizens, and a hundred hostages taken.
On Richard’s release from his German captivity, he sold many offices to raise his ransom. For 3,000 marks Geoffrey Plantagenet, Archbishop of York, purchased the office of Sheriff. This rendered him all but an absolute prince of the province.
Early in his reign King John visited York, and held a convention, which was attended by the King of Scotland, and many of his nobles. The citizens abstained from any expression ofwelcome, and the disgusted King consoled himself by exacting a fine of £100. In the last year of the tyrant’s life, York was besieged by the northern barons, who were bought off with 1,000 marks.
Henry III. held a convocation at York in 1220, when his sister Joanna was engaged to King Alexander of Scotland. In the following year his majesty attended the espousals, celebrated in the cathedral church. On this occasion Alexander’s sister, Margaret, bestowed her hand upon Hubert de Burgh, the justiciary.
Henry celebrated his Christmas festivities in York,A.D.1230 and 1252. On the last occasion he bestowed the hand of his daughter Margaret upon Alexander, King of Scotland. Matthew Paris gives a particular and most interesting account of the ceremonies:—
“The Earl-Marshal earnestly demanded that the palfrey of the King of Scotland, which he claimed as his right, should be given to him, with its caparisons—not for its value, or out of any avarice, but according to an ancient custom in such cases—that it might not die away in his time through any neglect of his.”
Alexander “would not submit to such anexaction, because, if he chose, he might obtain these equipments from any Catholic prince, or from some of his own nobles.”
The Archbishop of York nobly performed his part. “In making presents of gold, silver, and silken dresses, he sowed on a barren shore four thousand marks which he never afterwards reaped. But it was necessary for him to do these things for a time, that his good fame might be preserved in its integrity, and that the mouths of evil-speakers might be closed.”
Necessarily Edward I. was many times in Yorkshire during his Scottish wars. In 1291 he treated the citizens to the spectacle of one of his state-butcheries, when Rees-ap-Meredith, a descendant of the ancient royalty of South Wales, was dragged on a hurdle to the gallows, and hanged and quartered. In the year 1298, he obtained sole possession of the port and lands of Wyke, afterwards known as Kingston-upon-Hull. Under his royal patronage, the port speedily rose to a position of great maritime importance. In the same year he twice summoned Parliament to assemble at York, commanding the attendance of the Scotch nobility, and declared the pains and penalties of high treason against all absentees.
Six years later Edward concluded that the conquest of Scotland was achieved, and disbanded his army. In 1307, he died upon the red war-path, commenced in subtlety and falsehood. He drew his last breath at Burgh-on-Sands, in Cumberland, on the 7th of July.
In Yorkshire the Barons ran Piers Gaveston to earth in the days of Edward II. In 1311 they curtailed the royal power, and sentenced Gaveston to perpetual banishment, attaching the death-penalty should he re-enter the Kingdom. Edward commanded Gaveston to return, and restored his honours and possessions. The Barons flew to arms, and marched to York. The King fled to Newcastle, proceeded to Scarborough Castle, where he left Gaveston in command, and vainly endeavoured to raise an army.
Attacked by the Barons, Gaveston surrendered. Pembroke and Lord Henry Percy engaged that he should be imprisoned in Wallingford Castle, and that he should suffer no violence. Nevertheless he was carried to Dedington Castle, near Banbury, when Pembroke departed, and Warwick appeared upon the scene. Threatened with attack, the garrison declined to defend their prisoner, and surrendered him into the handsof Warwick. Gaveston was mounted upon a mule, surrounded by his enemies, and carried to Warwick Castle with extravagant parade, being welcomed with a loud flourish of trumpets. He read his fate in the fierce elation of the Barons, but made a vain appeal for mercy. It was rejected, and he was condemned to death.
After the battle of Bannockburn the whole of Scotland regained its ancient freedom, saving only the border town and fortress of Berwick, the security of which was zealously guarded by the unfortunate son of the terrible “Hammer of Scotland.”
The severe and even harsh discipline to which the burghers were subjected by the commandant of the fortress caused much dissatisfaction, and one of the inhabitants, a burgess named Spalding, proposed, in the bitterness of his heart, to betray the place into the hands of the Scottish monarch. King Robert eagerly entered into negotiations which were placed before him by the Earl of March, and deputed the conducting of the somewhat hazardous enterprise to his favourite captains, Douglas and Randolph. The project was duly carried to a successful termination, a body of troops scaling the walls undercover of a dark night, being materially assisted by Spalding, who went the rounds that night. Some confusion occurred, the governor of the castle made a desperate sally into the town, and bloody fighting followed before Douglas, Randolph, and Sir William Keith of Galston succeeded in forcing the stubborn Southrons back to the shelter of their works. Soon after the King appeared upon the scene, and, further resistance obviously being futile, the castle was surrendered. For Spalding it may be said that his action was probably more patriotic than treacherous, as he was married to a Scottish woman, and was, doubtless, himself of the same nationality.
This loss was severely felt by the English, and was bitterly resented by King Edward. It was followed by a dreadful invasion of the northern provinces of England, when Northallerton, Boroughbridge, and Skipton-in-Craven were committed to the flames, and Ripon only secured immunity from a similar visitation by the payment of a ransom of one thousand marks. The unhappy people were utterly without protection, and the Scots leisurely returned to their own country, driving their miserable captives before them “like flocks of sheep.”
Involved with his barons in those wretched complications which embittered his reign, Edward the II. was so mortified by the loss of Berwick, that he hastily came to an arrangement with the malcontents, and raising his banner prepared to invade Scotland, and attempt the recovery of the town and fortress which had so suddenly passed out of his possession.
The royal army assembled at Newcastle in the month of July, and, being very strong, Edward was hopeful of bringing the expedition to a successful termination. No measure was omitted for the securing of the object in view, and a powerful fleet from the Cinque ports followed the army with supplies of stores and warlike material. The walls of the fortress being so low that the warriors at the base could exchange stroke of lance with the defenders of the ramparts, Edward prepared to carry the place by assault, no doubt remembering the feat of his great sire in 1296, when he rode his good steed Bayard over ditch and wall, and commenced the work of pitiless slaughter with his own strong right hand.
Bruce, equally determined to retain the place, had appointed his gallant son-in-law, Walter, the high-steward of Scotland, to the command of thetown and castle. The garrison was reinforced by 500 volunteers, all gentlemen, friends and relations of the steward. Provisions to serve for a year having been laid up, the gallant Scots awaited the course of events.
However sanguine Edward of Cærnarvon may have been, he certainly exhibited all reasonable prudence before Berwick, and, before commencing active operations, caused his camp to be strongly fortified. When the hour of attack arrived, the valiant Scots who manned the walls of Berwick found they had a double danger to meet, as the English mariners were bringing up one of their largest ships, which was crowded with soldiers, who clung to the masts, rigging, and spars, ready to leap upon the ramparts, as soon as the sailors brought up alongside the walls, and got the vessel in position with their grappling irons. As the vessel drew near, gleaming with steel, and presenting a most formidable appearance, she suddenly took the ground, and in a moment all was confusion, the mariners straining every nerve to get her off into deep water again. All these attempts proving in vain, and as the vessel lay stranded at ebb-tide, she was set on fire by the Scots, and consumed, to the great elation of thegarrison, and equally to the disgust of the English.
While this exciting incident was being enacted, Edward was furiously assaulting the town from the land, sending his fierce stormers, who were abundantly supplied with scaling ladders, to the attack by thousands, and covering their advance by the incessant discharge of his archers, whose long and deadly shafts swept the ramparts like a hail-storm. But the Scots met the storm with indomitable bravery, fringing their walls with glittering pikes, hurling down showers of missiles upon the enemy, casting down their ladders, and sending their heavy axes through the iron skull-caps of the stormers before they could make good their foot-hold upon the ramparts. After long hours of stubborn and sanguinary toil, Edward withdrew his troops to the shelter of their entrenchments, and both parties rested after their severe and exhausting toil: but at the base of the walls, and upon the bloody ramparts many brave men slept their long death-sleep.
Untamed by their repulse, the English soldiers prepared to renew their efforts, and set to work upon the construction of a huge military machine called a “Sow”: this was framed of solid timber,and moved upon heavy rollers, the roof sloping and affording an efficient protection to the soldiers who toiled with pick and spade beneath its cover, intent upon undermining the walls of the beleaguered hold. The “Sow” was especially dangerous to the Scots in the present case, for the whole length of the walls being exposed to repeated assaults, they were so completely outnumbered that they were unable to spare any considerable number of men to guard against its action, and should once a breach be effected in the walls it would be impossible to arrest the pressure of Edward’s stormers, who kept the hardy Scots fully employed even while their ramparts were intact.
When the English engineers levelled the ground, and wheeled the heavy machine against the walls, and the miners were waiting, pick in hand, to fall to work, the contending warriors awaited the result with equal anxiety and interest. Berwick was indebted for its safety to the labours of a Flemish engineer named John Crab, who had prepared a huge catapult for the purpose of hurling heavy missiles against the terrible “Sow,” and, as it approached the wall, he discharged a huge mass of rock against it. The flight of the missile wasregarded with the utmost interest by both parties, but it failed to strike the machine, and a second discharge was equally inoperative, and the “Sow” now drew near the walls, amid the exulting shouts of the besiegers; but Crab had now obtained a better idea of the power of his catapult, and, calculating the distance to a nicety, sent a large piece of rock upon the mid-roof of the doomed “Sow.” The massive stone went thundering and crashing through the solid timber, and, as cries of rage and dismay burst from the English troops, the miners came rushing wildly from the ruined machine, and sought to gain the trenches, while the Scots sent their arrows and missiles after them, exclaiming, in grim mockery and exultation, “Behold, the English sow has farrowed!”
The Scots were inspired by their success, the English aggravated by repeated disappointments and repulses, and the conflict necessarily waxed fiercer, Crab working his military engines with great vigour, hurling showers of missiles upon the assailants, and giving the unlucky “Sow” itscoup de gracein the form of a quantity of blazing and highly inflammable material, which quickly set it on fire. Amid the tumult of the assault it continued to burn, sending up showersof sparks and dense volumes of smoke, until it was reduced to ashes.
The English fleet was brought up to second the efforts of the stormers, but John Crab had so many cranes and springals in position, and hurled his huge copper-winged darts, heavy iron chains, and grappling hooks, and bundles of ignited tow, saturated with pitch, with such unfailing precision that the commanders were fairly daunted, and, fearing to involve the fleet in utter destruction, drew off, and the Scots, thus opportunely relieved, directed their undivided attention to the repeated assaults of the enemy.
During those hours of murderous strife the grand steward was passing from point to point with a reserve of 100 men, and wherever he found the garrison hardly pressed he succoured them with a few men, and animated them by his example and exhortations; and where the slaughter had been especially heavy he made good the loss from his fast diminishing reserves. The conflict was at its height, and the steward had done all that he could to strengthen the sorely-pressed garrison, only one soldier remaining in attendance upon him, when the startling news was brought that Edward’s warriors haddestroyed the barriers at St. Mary’s gate, which they were endeavouring to burn down.
Hastily collecting a band of warriors, he pressed forward to the threatened point, passing numbers of young lads and fearless women busily engaged in collecting the missiles thrown over the walls by the enemy, and on approaching the scene of peril, he commanded the gate to be thrown open, and charging through the flame and smoke at the head of his brave followers he fell upon the assailants, sword in hand, and after a fierce conflict drove them off, restored the defences, and made fast the door again. The conflict ended in the utter repulse of the English forces, nevertheless the garrison was sorely thinned and exhausted, so that unless it was augmented by reinforcements, or some diversion was made in its favour, but little prospect of maintaining the fortress remained.
It was the policy of Robert Bruce never to risk a battle with his powerful enemies, and although sorely tried by the dangerous state to which Berwick was reduced, he maintained his resolution, but attempted a diversion by despatching Douglas and Randolph with 15,000 men to make a raid upon the northern shires of England,and, if possible, to fall upon York, and carry off Queen Isabella, who there awaited the issue of the campaign, imagining that she was secured from all peril by her distance from the theatre of war and by the strong walls of the city.
The Scots were not slow in carrying out the instructions of King Robert, but crossed the Solway, and made a rapid march upon York, only to find that their project had been discovered, and the Queen’s escape secured. It appears that a Scottish spy had fallen into the hands of the English, and confessed, “how our enemy, James Douglas, with a chosen band of men, would come to these parts in order to carry off the Queen, and those whom he should find resisting should be killed at the same time.” The danger of Queen Isabella, whose character was then unimpeached, aroused all the loyal energies of the Archbishop and Mayor of York, and hastily collecting a body of armed men, they made a rapid march to secure her majesty’s safety, and caused her to be conveyed by water to Nottingham.
The attempt to draw Edward from the siege of Berwick by threatening the safety of his queenhaving failed, the Scottish captains proceeded to carry out the second part of their programme with the utmost energy, and giving loose to their wild passion for burning and plundering, they wrought terrible mischief upon the northern towns and villages, as though determined to extort from King Edward the heaviest price for the fortress of Berwick, should he decide to maintain the siege, in spite of every obstacle, until it fell into his hands.