by Alan Young
Caerlaverock Castle. A castle impressive in both strength and style, Caerlaverock with its distinctive red sandstone was at the centre of the Anglo-Scottish war in the early fourteenth century.
Edward I’s anger can well be believed and, no doubt, there was real fear among Englishmen that, in Edward’s absence, Wallace would make deep inroads into England. By the fifteenth century, however, Scottish tradition was elaborating on this rumour and in Blind Harry’s work Wallace’s invasion of England reached St Albans. The reality was that, after the plunder raid on Northumberland, William Wallace’s priority was defence against an English counter-attack. An English force under Warenne did, in fact, re-take Berwick and relieve the siege at Roxburgh Castle in early 1298. The Lanercost Chronicle gives a good impression of Wallace’s strategy at this time, of making supplies for English forces very scarce in southern Scotland:
. . . after the earls had left Roxburgh, the Scots came by night and burnt the town, and so they did to the town of Haddington, as well as to nearly all the chief towns on this side of the Scottish sea [Firth of Forth], so that the English should find no place of refuge in Scotland. Thus the army of England was soon compelled to return to England through lack of provender.
Perhaps, the plunder raids on Northumberland and Cumberland of October–November 1297 served a dual purpose – the Scots increased their own supplies and, at the same time, deprived any English army approaching Scotland. It was, in effect, a ‘scorched-earth’ policy, which made it difficult for the English in northern England as well as southern Scotland to obtain provisions.
It was not, however, only a lack of rations that halted English military operations in early 1298. Edward I, in fact, ordered these to cease until he could, personally, take charge of them. The King did not arrive in England until 14 March. He ordered a council, or special conference, to take place in April at York where the campaign would be discussed. The movement of the exchequer from London to York indicated that York would be his military and political headquarters for the Scottish campaign. Edward’s summons to the council included the Scottish lords – if they did not appear, they would be considered enemies. Edward himself set off for York in late April, visiting shrines of saints on the way. He was at Ely from 6–7 May, at Bury St Edmunds from 9–10 May and proceeded to Walsingham, Lincoln and Beverley, finally reaching York on 24 May. His army was ordered to muster at Roxburgh, his knights on 23 June and the infantry on 25 June.
Solway Firth, near Caerlaverock.
YORK AS A WAR CAPITAL
Blind Harry’s The Wallace, followed by the film Braveheart, falsely claimed that William Wallace penetrated Yorkshire and even captured York. It is true, however, that Wallace had a dramatic and significant long-term influence on York. Edward I reacted to Wallace’s victory at Stirling Bridge on 11 September 1297 by establishing York as his war capital in the summer of 1298. Despite his victory at Falkirk in July 1298, the English King was unable to consolidate control within Scotland and York therefore remained his military and administrative capital between 1298 and 1305, with the Exchequer, Chancery and the main judicial benches being based there. The resulting influx of officials, lawyers and suitors at the various courts, as well as soldiers, greatly increased the prosperity of the city. The catering profession certainly flourished, as did the trades associated with warfare, such as sword-makers, fletchers, armourers, bowyers and saddlers. However, there were also problems caused by local tradesmen and landlords giving in to the temptations of profiteering. As a result, in 1301, a series of ordinances were produced: ‘No bread over six days is to be sold’, ‘Taverners, wine sellers and sauce-makers shall not keep bad or putrid wine or vinegar in their houses’, ‘No doctor is to exercise his profession unless he has been instructed in the art of surgery’, ‘No-one shall keep pigs which go in the streets by day and night, nor shall any prostitute stay in the city’, ‘No-one is to put out excrement or other filth or animal manure in the city’. Being a war capital created problems as well as benefits. What is not usually appreciated is how far William Wallace was the catalyst for York’s development as a war capital in the Middle Ages.
The city wall of York. The late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries saw the city defences (a circuit of 2 miles) strengthened with stone walls and numerous towers.
Walmgate Bar. The outer defences, the barbican, still remain at Walmgate, though they are no longer to be seen at York’s other medieval gateways. The barbicans reflect the ever-growing need for fortifications at York in the century after the Battle of Stirling Bridge.
St Mary’s Abbey. When York became a war capital for the English government in 1298 York’s finest medieval buildings, such as St Mary’s Abbey and Clifford’s Tower, were used to house the royal household and government departments. The abbey became home to the Chancery.
The Undercroft at St Leonard’s Hospital. The ruins in the Museum Gardens, York, are few but the Undercroft does give a clue that St Leonard’s Hospital was one of the largest and finest buildings in medieval York and the largest medieval hospital in England.
The cessation of hostilities in the English campaign in early 1298 did, of course, give Wallace a useful and unexpected respite in which to prepare more fully for Edward’s army. According to the Lanercost Chronicle the Scots:
. . . set themselves down before the castles of Scotland which were held by the English, to besiege them with all their force, and through famine in the castles they obtained possession of them all, except Roxburgh, Edinburgh, Stirling and Berwick, and a few others; and when they had promised to the English conditions of life and limb and safe conduct to their own land on surrendering the castles, William Wallace did not keep faith with them.
Airth Castle, Falkirk. According to Blind Harry, Wallace’s uncle from Dunipace had been captured during the warfare and imprisoned at Airth before being rescued by Wallace. The historical Wallace and his army did not have the expertise to storm castles.
This extract again hints that Wallace did not fight by the normal rules of chivalry. However, there is little contemporary administrative record to show how Wallace prepared his forces. On 29 March, at Torphichen (West Lothian) Wallace granted to Alexander Scrymgeour (in the Charter of William Wallace to Alexander Scrymgeour, 29 March 1298)
. . . six marks of land in the territory of Dundee . . . and also the constabulary of the castle of Dundee . . . for faithful service and succour given to the said kingdom, in carrying the royal banner in the army of Scotland . . .
This indicates that he was certainly making military appointments. John of Fordun, the most contemporary Scottish source, unfortunately says little about Wallace’s organisation of his army but does emphasise his forcefulness in asserting his authority over both the nobility and the burgesses of Dundee. The Scotichronicon of Walter Bower and Chronicle of Pluscarden, however, have lengthy passages on Wallace’s marshalling of the infantry:
The church at Airth, now in a severe state of decay, would have been in existence in William Wallace’s time but only Blind Harry connects Wallace with this place.
. . . he encouraged his comrades in arms towards the achievement of whatever plan he had in hand to approach battle for the liberty of their homeland with one mind. And as regards the whole multitude of his followers he decreed on pain of death that once the lesser men among the middling people (or in practice those who were less robust) had been assembled before him, one man was always to be chosen out of five from all the groups of five to be over the other four and called a quaternion; his commands were to be obeyed by them in all matters, and whoever did not obey was to be killed. In a similar manner also on moving up to the men who were more robust and effective there was always to be a tenth man [called a decurion] over each nine, and a twentieth over each nineteen, and so on moving up to each thousand [called a chiliarch] and beyond else to the top . . . With everyone harmoniously approving this law (or substitute for law) they chose him as their captain.
The Chronicle of Pluscarden a
dded that this was the advice given to Moses by Jethro. These chroniclers’ descriptions of Wallace’s fearsome discipline may not be exaggerated but the military system they outline seems to be derived from classical literature rather than William Wallace’s own military handbook of 1297. Walter Bower further reports in the Scotichronicon how:
. . . from every sheriffdom and shire, barony and lordship, town and village and country estate he had special lists drawn up containing the names of the men between sixteen and sixty who were fit for warfare. So that not one man could be absent unnoticed from a stated time and place without his knowledge, he laid it down as a fundamental law that not only in every barony but also in every sizeable township a gallows was to be erected on which were to be hanged all those inventing excuses to avoid the army when summoned without reasonable cause.
This is, perhaps, more in keeping with the planning Wallace could implement as he waited for Edward I’s army.
There was, already, in operation a method of summoning the common army of Scotland. This had been used in 1244 when Alexander II’s army briefly confronted Henry III at the border, in 1263 when the Norwegian threat was met at Largs, in 1286 when the Guardians of Scotland were concerned by the threat of civil war and in 1296 when Scotland tried to defeat Edward I’s army at Dunbar. Wallace undoubtedly employed this system in his own inimitable and uncompromising way. He could use Parliament to strengthen his military powers – at his trial in 1305 he was accused, among other charges, of convening Scottish parliaments – and, it seems, he had already, before Stirling Bridge, established (with Moray) control over the local administrative structure that was responsible for levying local men for militia duties. With his own undoubted powers of persuasion, William Wallace could ensure that a full complement of the ‘common army’ would be mustered and, as far as time allowed, trained. The evidence from the Battle of Falkirk was that the Scottish militia was well disciplined and trained.
William Wallace’s relationship with the Scottish nobility, and therefore his control over the cavalry element in the Scottish army, has been a controversial question among historians. Scottish nationalist writers of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries blamed the nobles, and the Comyns in particular, for betraying Wallace at Falkirk. The issue is argued most forcibly by Walter Bower, in the Scotichronicon, in the mid-fifteenth century. To him, Scotland under Wallace ‘was making a surprising, in fact a successful recovery’ until:
. . . the magnates and powerful men of the kingdom, intoxicated by a stream of envy, seditiously entered a secret plot against the guardian under the guise of expressions of virgin-innocence but with their tails tied together. Hence some who had been restored to their fortresses and domains by him after they had been completely excluded by the same English, muttered with proud hearts and rancorous minds, saying to one another: ‘We do not want this man to reign over us.’ But the ordinary folk and populace, along with more of the nobles whose attitude was sounder and leaned more towards the public interest, praised the Lord on account of the fact that they themselves, saved from the daring attacks of rivals with the help of such a champion, were able to have the comfort of their own homes. What stubborn folly of fools! Wallace did not force himself into rulership, but by the choice of the estates he was raised up to be ruler after the previously-nominated guardians had been removed. And when you, Scotland, had been headless and unable to defend yourself, Wallace had appeared as a mighty arm and a salvation in time of trouble.
This view and the additional notion, found in John of Fordun, Walter Bower and Wallace’s biographer, Blind Harry, that the Comyns were the chief betrayers needs to be set against the background of Scottish nationalist writings of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. This context was of political instability, the renewed threat of English interference and loss of Scottish independence. Therefore, these writers’ review of thirteenth-century politics strongly emphasised the risk posed to the monarchy by faction and lawlessness of the nobility, which in turn threatened Scottish independence. The Comyns were a particular target for blame. It was the politically correct way, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, to paint the Comyns in as black a light as possible in their dealings with Scotland’s two nationalist heroes, Wallace and Bruce. Comparisons can be made with the Tudor ‘myth’ of the Yorkist King Richard III, painted by Shakespeare and others as a crook-backed tyrant. Both ‘myths’ have been powerful and long lasting.
EDWARD I
Edward I was approaching fifty-seven years of age when William Wallace began his rebellion against English officials in Scotland in the early summer of 1297. Edward had been King of England since 1272, and was not only a very experienced international statesman but still an imposing figure of a man, able to inspire his troops with his stature and physical presence. When his tomb in Westminster Abbey was opened in 1774, his body was seen to be 6 ft 2 in in length, well above average for the time. Edward I was an active international diplomat and mediator in the 1270s and 1280s, keen to use marriage treaties to pursue alliances with the Aragon, the Habsburgs (of Germany) and the Brabant dynasties.
Edward I as a young man and certainly seeming to live up to his nickname ‘Longshanks’. (Reproduced by permission of the British Library [Royal MS 2A XX11 f. 219v].)
Holm Cultram Abbey, Cumbria. After Edward I’s death at Burgh-on-Sands on 7 July 1307, his body was taken to be buried at Westminster Abbey. However, before the long journey south, Edward’s entrails were removed and buried at the Cistercian abbey of Holm Cultram. The English King’s chief enemy in 1307, Robert Bruce, also had a connection with the abbey as his father was buried there.
Contrary to the image of Edward I as ‘Hammer of the Scots’ (a phrase to be found on his tomb), his policy towards Scotland was, at first, based on diplomacy. No doubt he gained an insight into Scottish affairs following the marriage of his sister, Margaret, to Alexander III of Scotland at York in 1251. In view of the good social relationships between the royal families of England and Scotland from the 1250s to the 1280s, it was natural, following Alexander III’s sudden death in 1286, for Edward to propose a marriage alliance between the very young heiress of Scotland, Margaret, the ‘Maid of Norway’, and his son, Edward. It was only after 1289 that Edward I took an increasingly interventionist line and seriously underestimated the strength of nationalist feeling in Scotland.
Burgh-on-Sands, where Edward I died. He had already spent some time at Lanercost Priory, having been taken gravely ill as he advanced north to launch a campaign against Robert Bruce. Edward’s death is marked by a monument surrounded by iron railings.
Edward I’s Seal, the Great Seal for the Government of Scotland. Reverse: a heater-shaped shield bearing arms, three leopards passant guardant in pale (England). (By permission of the Court of the Lord Lyon.)
Historical reality is more complex. The Comyns were officially recognised by Edward I as having returned to the Scottish patriot side by about November/December 1297, though there had been suspicions that they were not working in Edward’s interest in August. It is unlikely that they did not support their kinsman, Andrew Moray, as he built up his forces in northern Scotland in the summer of 1297. Noble families such as the Morays, Stewarts, Bruces and the Earl of Lennox took part, with varying degrees of credit, in Scottish resistance in 1297. Stewart and Malcolm, Earl of Lennox, had been involved in the Battle of Stirling Bridge – but only after it had actually been won.
The participation of the nobility in Scottish military resistance is a complicated issue. The patriotic credentials of few – most obviously the Bruces, Patrick, Earl of Dunbar and Gilbert Umphraville, Earl of Angus – could be questioned when hostilities commenced in 1296. It was a war led by the Comyn-dominated aristocratic governing community in the name of King John Balliol fighting for the principles that they had written into the Treaty of Birgham (1290). Yet the nobility did little actual fighting before submitting in 1296 at Dunbar or in 1297 at Irvine, and contributed little to the victory at Stirling Bridge. Their a
ctions suggest that they wanted to use a show of force as a political weapon in negotiations with Edward, knowing that his priority was war against France and hoping that he would prefer a political solution in Scotland, which would with luck preserve their own power and landowning status in the country. Comyns, Stewarts and Bruces all played this diplomatic game of chivalric ‘cat-and-mouse’.
On the Scottish side, too, there seemed to be an inbuilt acceptance of the superiority of English military forces, especially the cavalry. Most of the Scottish nobility had social ties with English noble families because of their landholding in England. While this did not make their patriotism any less genuine when peace turned to war, it certainly gave them an understanding of the strengths of English troops. They may well have agreed with the sentiments expressed in the verses of the Song on the Scottish Wars written shortly after the Battle of Falkirk:
‘Do not be troubled,’ said they [the English knights to Edward I] ‘if the Scottish thieves sharpen axes for their own heads; one Englishman will slay very many Scots’ . . . the English like angels are always conquerors, they are more excellent than the Scotch and Welsh . . .
The Scottish nobility would have been aware that the proportion of knights, i.e. mounted soldiers, to foot soldiers in Scotland was much lower than in England. Matthew Paris, describing the Scottish confrontation with Henry III in 1244, noted that the Scottish had inferior horses to the English. The Lanercost Chronicle probably records correctly the relative strengths of the Scottish and English forces at the Battle of Falkirk:
. . . the Scots gave him battle with all their forces at Falkirk, William Wallace aforesaid being their commander, putting their chief trust, as was the custom, in their foot pikemen, whom they placed in the frontline. But the armoured cavalry of England, which formed the greater part of the army . . .