by Alan Young
The question of the loyalty of the Scottish nobility should, therefore, be divided from discussion of the ineffectiveness of the Scottish cavalry.
It is clear that Wallace’s association with the Scottish nobility, too, should be separated from the issue of allegiance to the Scottish patriotic cause. Wallace’s relationship with his formal overlords, the Stewarts, was ambiguous in the period 1296 to 1298. The English chroniclers’ depiction of William Wallace, at the outset, as the frontman of James Stewart and Bishop Wishart and the assumption that Stewart was the mastermind behind Wallace’s actions at Stirling Bridge probably represented how they thought Wallace’s link with Stewart ought to be rather than the actuality. It is likely that Stewart did encourage Wallace before he (Stewart) came out openly in rebellion with his brother John, Wishart and Robert Bruce in July 1297. However, after the nobles’ abject submission, the retainers of most them, including the Stewarts, seem to have accepted Wallace’s leadership over that of their own lords. This was evident at Stirling Bridge and this, rather than Stewart’s apparent controlling tactics, explains the Stewarts’ peripheral role in the battle.
Wallace’s relationship with the Bruces has also been the subject of some debate. The Bruces started the war on the English side but the younger Robert Bruce joined the so-called ‘aristocratic’ revolt in conjunction with his family allies, the Stewarts, and Bishop Wishart. However, it is clear that both as military leader and political leader of Scotland after Stirling Bridge, William Wallace was acting on behalf of King John Balliol. The younger Bruce, and his father, still retained a counter-claim to the Scottish throne and William Wallace must have regarded them with suspicion.
Wallace Cave by the River Avon. Allegedly, it was in this cave that William Wallace and some of his followers hid in the aftermath of the Battle of Falkirk. At least the Comyn family had always been strong supporters of John Balliol who was, in fact, their kinsman and thus there was common ground with Wallace here. However, while the accusations of treachery against the Comyns at Falkirk may be fourteenth- and fifteenth-century propaganda, there is evidence of tension, even personal animosity, between Wallace and the Comyns.
This ill feeling was openly displayed in 1299 – after Falkirk and after Wallace had ceased to be leader of the political community – at a council meeting at Peebles. David Graham, a front-line Comyn adherent, put forward ‘a demand for Sir William Wallace’s lands and goods as he was going abroad without leave’ (J. Bain [ed.], Calendar of Documents Relating to Scotland, II, no. 1978 [Edinburgh, 1881]). Wallace’s brother, Malcolm, objected and during the ensuing argument John Comyn, Earl of Buchan, turned on William Lamberton, Bishop of St Andrews, who was clearly defending the Wallaces. The election of Lamberton to the key political and ecclesiastical office of Bishop of St Andrews, on the instruction of William Wallace on 3 November 1297, was probably the real cause of animosity between the Comyns and Wallace. Comyn domination of Scottish politics in the second half of the thirteenth century had been supported by a long line of pro-Comyn bishops of St Andrews – Gamelin (1255–71) had probably been a member of the Comyn family; William Fraser (1279–97) was from a family of Comyn supporters; and it is clear that Master William Comyn, Provost of St Mary’s of the Rock at St Andrews (1287–1329) and brother of John Comyn, Earl of Buchan, hoped to follow in this line. The sudden death of William Fraser in France in 1297 and the political vacuum caused by the imprisonment in England of the Comyns and their allies in government from 1296, meant that his candidature could not be pursued by the Comyns during Wallace’s political ascendancy. Master William Comyn objected to his exclusion from the election process, Pope Boniface VIII acknowledging that a protest had been made in his letter to William on 7 May 1298. This was, in other words, a ‘live’ issue in the period leading up to the Battle of Falkirk. This family grievance once again became pertinent in 1299 when William Comyn’s brother, John, turned on Lamberton during the baronial council in August 1299. Later, in 1306, it was asserted that William Comyn had, in fact, been elected but superseded by Lamberton.
It was natural for the Comyns, in particular, to feel that their traditional leadership role had been usurped. The Comyns’ absence in England in 1296 was also exploited by Bishop Robert Wishart, ally of James Stewart and Wallace, in 1297 – Mr Robert, John Comyn of Badenoch’s physician, who had been placed in charge of the church of Great Dalton (Dumfriesshire) ‘was unlawfully ousted by the bishop of Glasgow’ (Grant G. Simpson and James D. Galbraith [eds], Calendar of Documents Relating to Scotland, V, no. 169 [Edinburgh, 1986]). Near contemporary Scottish sources do not attempt to hide Wallace’s forthright and uncompromising style and there may have been some truth to a reference in an earlier, more complete text of Walter Bower’s Scotichronicon that Wallace had suppressed the Comyns in Galloway. Not only were the Comyns politically powerless to appoint their candidate to the bishopric of St Andrews, the nobility in general seemed to have lost their traditional military leadership as a result of their poor showing in 1296 and 1297. They had even lost control over their retainers as Wallace and Moray had shown both before the Battle of Stirling Bridge and during it. The English chroniclers’ belief that Wallace was a frontman for James Stewart and Bishop Wishart seems to have less support than John of Fordun’s opinion that Wallace:
. . . in a short time, by force, and by dent of his prowess, brought all the magnates of Scotland under his sway, whether they would or not . . .
The nobility’s loss of its traditional leadership in political and military affairs in 1297, together with the forthright manner of Wallace’s leadership, were the real causes of tension. It is another matter, however, to talk of Wallace’s defeat at Falkirk in terms of betrayal. The battle must be judged on its own merits.
The Upper Tweed valley and Selkirk Forest. Often the route taken by English troops marching on campaign up the east of Scotland, Selkirk Forest was where Wallace acquired a valuable group of archers who fought for him at the Battle of Falkirk.
There is no doubt that Edward I took the Scottish military threat seriously as he joined his army at Roxburgh in early July 1298. His determination had been clear as soon as he heard news of the English defeat at Stirling Bridge. This extract from the Song on the Scottish Wars expresses the tone of his address to his knights: ‘Again you must prepare to fight for your country. I would rather conquer once than be often tormented.’ On his way north, Edward had visited sacred shrines and collected the banners of northern saints, St John of Beverley and St Cuthbert, to fly at the head of his army. His forces were impressive, strong in armoured cavalry (about 2,500), with an infantry totalling up to 25,000 on the eve of battle and many archers (there were over 10,000 infantry, mainly archers, from Wales, as well as crossbowmen from Gascony) and some 4,000 Irish mercenaries. National fervour had been roused in the English and this was reflected in political songs of the time. The following extract is again from the Song on the Scottish Wars:
What does the barbarous brutal and foolish race threaten? Will this perfidy remain unavenged? . . . William Wallace is the leader of these savages . . . ‘Do not be troubled’, said they (the knights) ‘if the Scottish thieves sharpen axes for their own heads; one Englishman will slay many Scots. It is not the part of a man who has a beard to join mice to a little cart’ – Wallace, or Gilmaurus, is scarcely better than a mouse, to whose victory the laurel will never grow; for they want strength and treasure: a bull who has lost his horns is the more eager for the war . . .
Eildon Hills, north-west of Dryburgh, where Edward I marched close by during his 1298 campaign.
The Cheviot Hills from Chillingham. In his 1298 campaign Chillingham was on Edward I’s outward and return routes.
Despite such vehement feelings, there must have been some doubt about the loyalty of the very large Welsh contingent.
The enthusiasm of the English and the allegiance of the Welsh would soon be tested as Edward I’s army marched north through Lauderdale to Braid, just south of Edinburgh, then on to K
irkliston, just west of Edinburgh. The detailed reporting of the Guisborough chronicler, probably based on an eyewitness account, describes the very real problems Edward I’s army faced owing to lack of provisions. Supplies to be brought by ship had been held back by unfavourable winds, and no food could be found in southern Scotland partly because of the famine of the previous year and partly as a result of the deliberate burning and wasting policy of Wallace.
Edward I sent a detachment of troops under Anthony Bek, Bishop of Durham, to try to capture the newly built and Scottish-held Dirleton Castle (with two other neighbouring castles). They had no siege weapons and, as the Guisborough chronicler testified, they were too weak from hunger to fight: ‘they had to subsist on nothing but a few peas and beans dug out of field’. The King was angry that Bek was unable to carry out his mission but the arrival of some food ships, and Edward I’s curt response to Bek’s initial failure, led to renewed English attempts to capture the castles and ultimate success within a few days. In the meantime, hunger among the vast infantry army had reached such an advanced stage that some Welshmen were dying. The arrival of a solitary supply ship, laden with wine rather than corn, made the situation worse. Edward I’s decision to allow the Welsh to be given wine to bolster their morale backfired when the Welsh became drunk and began brawling, which resulted in a number of priests being killed. English knights were ordered to charge them to restore order. However, the decision to have so many Welshmen in the infantry seemed to be unsound as the Welsh withdrew from the fracas, threatening to join the Scots. Edward’s response, ‘Who cares if all our enemies join together? With God’s help we shall then defeat the whole lot of them in one go’, seems to confirm, once more, a dangerous English superiority complex, so often reflected in the popular political songs of the day.
Lammermuir Hills. Edward I’s campaigns in 1298, 1301 and 1303 passed by these hills up the eastern side of Scotland.
Dirleton Castle. Standing on a rock in an attractive village, this thirteenth-century castle (newly built in 1298) was captured by the English prior to the Battle of Falkirk.
It seemed as if Edward had decided to withdraw to Edinburgh to await the arrival of further supplies when the pro-English Patrick, Earl of Dunbar, and Gilbert Umphraville, Earl of Angus, brought him a spy whose report changed the English King’s mind:
‘The Scots army and all your enemies are no more than 18 miles away from here, just outside Falkirk . . . [in Callendar Wood]. They have heard that you intend to retreat to Edinburgh, and they mean to follow you and attack your camp tomorrow night, or at least to fall on your rearguard and plunder your baggage.’ Then the King cried: ‘May God be praised, for He has solved all my problems. The Scots will have no need to follow me, for I will march to meet them at once.’
A hill at Cockleroy overlooking Linlithgow. Traditionally, it is claimed that Wallace watched Edward I’s forces from here as they made camp on their way to meet Wallace’s army at Falkirk. The gap between the two summits of Cockleroy is known as Wallace’s Cradle.
This account indicates that the English, up to that stage, had completely lost contact with the Scots and that Edward, without sufficient rations to feed his vast army, had no other option but to retreat to Edinburgh. This also suggests that Wallace’s tactic of wasting large areas of southern Scotland had succeeded – attacking the rearguard of a demoralised, hungry enemy was preferable, for Wallace, to engaging in a traditional battle, which favoured Edward’s army. Edward, encouraged by the spy’s statement, ordered his troops to arm and march towards Falkirk. They camped just east of Linlithgow. In a campaign that had not, up to this point, run smoothly, a further mishap occurred when the King was injured (some chronicles report that he broke two ribs) by his own charger when the animal kicked him as he slept.
Linlithgow Castle. Edward I’s marches into Scotland (in 1291, 1296, 1298, 1301 and 1303) usually took him to Linlithgow, and just outside here the English army prepared for the Battle of Falkirk.
William Wallace now seems to have decided to fight a pitched battle, clearly not his favourite option, to remove the English from Scotland. Historians, with hindsight, have criticised Wallace for not continuing with a ‘scorched-earth’ policy backed with ambush raids but he could not have known that ultimate victory could be achieved this way. Wallace must have been buoyed up by the success at Stirling Bridge, although this was not a typical engagement (despite the way it was portrayed in the film Braveheart, i.e. without the bridge).
Wallace prepared a defensive formation to try to counter Edward’s massive cavalry superiority. The Guisborough Chronicle gives a very detailed account of Wallace’s grouping. Callendar Wood was at the rear of his forces, the Westquarter Burn running in front and below him. His infantry troops were positioned ‘on hard ground on one side of a hill beside Falkirk’. The English cavalry would be impeded a little by boggy ground before they reached the Scots. Wallace organised his ‘army of Scotland’ into four great schiltroms described by the Guisborough chronicler as being:
. . . made up entirely of spearmen, standing shoulder to shoulder in deep ranks and facing towards the circumference of the circle, with their spears slanting outwards at an oblique angle.
These ‘shield-rings’, bristling with 12-in iron-tipped spears and perhaps comprising between 1,000 and 2,000 men in each schiltrom, must have appeared like huge hedgehogs or porcupines. For further protection, according to the Rishanger Chronicle, there were, around each schiltrom,
. . . a great number of long stakes fixed into the ground and tied together with cords and ropes like a fence so that they would obstruct the passage of the English.
These enclosures must have looked like rings and, before the battle commenced, contemporary English chroniclers recorded Wallace making a typical down-to-earth joke about this: ‘I have browght yowe to the rynge, hoppe yef ye kunne [I have brought you to the ring, now dance if you can]’ (Rishanger Chronicle). Between the schiltroms was Wallace’s small body of archers from Selkirk Forest. These were under the command of John Stewart of Jedburgh, brother of James Stewart. At the rear was a small cavalry force contributed by the Scottish nobility, probably including the Comyns, James Stewart, Macduff of Fife, the earls of Lennox, Atholl, Menteith and Strathearn. It is not known whether Robert Bruce was present. The mounted troops were not apparently within the defensive formation and it had been usual practice for the Scots army to be, in effect, two forces, the cavalry of the nobility separated from the ‘common army’ of infantry, with little coordination between the two as a consequence.
On the morning of 22 July, Edward preferred to pause while his army replenished themselves – most had not eaten for 24 hours – but his main commanders, the earls of Norfolk, Hereford and Lincoln, insisted that a delay would be dangerous because of the closeness of the Scottish forces:
Then at once, the earls who commanded the vanguard led their men forward in line, for they did not realise at first that a peaty bog lay between them and the enemy: but when they saw this, they directed their men round the west of it, and so were a little delayed. Meanwhile, the second division, under Bishop Bek of Durham and thirty six chosen knights, swung round the bog to the east, making as much speed as possible so as to be first into battle . . . they pressed on and attacked the first Scottish schiltrom, while the earls charged with the vanguard on the other side of the field. The Scots cavalry fled without striking a blow the moment our men appeared, though a few of their lords remained to command the spearmen . . . [while Sir John Stewart] dismounted from his horse and stood in the midst of his people until both he and they – men of noble form and great stature – were all cut down.
The grave of John Stewart in Falkirk churchyard. The tomb of John Graham is also to be found here, another Wallace supporter. Both men lost their lives at the Battle of Falkirk.
Scottish sources concentrate on the key moment in the Scottish defeat and emphasise the flight of the Scottish cavalry as betrayal. John of Fordun states:
For o
n account of the ill-will, begotten of the spring of envy, which the Comyns had conceived towards the said William, they, with their accomplices, forsook the field and escaped unhurt.
However, the Scottish horsemen were more suited to harrying, ambushes and skirmishes with foot soldiers and had little chance against a far superior English cavalry force in pitched battle. This had been shown at Dunbar in 1296 and Irvine in 1297. The Scottish cavalry had little role in the victory over the English at Stirling Bridge.
English chroniclers acknowledge that the Scots placed their ‘front pikemen . . . in the first line . . . stood their ground and fought manfully’ (Lanercost Chronicle). The English cavalry had no difficulty mowing down the Scottish archers, no doubt killing their leader, John Stewart, but could not penetrate the tightly packed schiltroms. Although few English knights were killed at Falkirk – the most significant casualty being Brother Brian le Jay, Master of the English Templars – over a hundred horses died. The impasse was broken when the English knights were withdrawn and the large number of archers on the English side were ordered to fire into the isolated ‘shield-rings’ of the Scottish infantry. This was a time when the Scottish cavalry could have given some protection by attacking the archers and thus disrupting the constant flow of arrows. Gradually, the schiltroms, whose spears, according to the Guisborough chronicler, ‘were as impenetrable as the branches of a thick wood’ to English knights, were themselves pierced by an unbroken bombardment of arrows. As soon as large gaps appeared the English horsemen were ordered to charge and the ‘shield-rings’ were broken. John of Fordun describes the key role played by a detachment of cavalry under Anthony Bek, which went