David decided that he had little choice, in the circumstances. He would accept the Archbishop's assurances meantime, and wait for Stephen, sending all but a nucleus of his force home for Yuletide; but they must be prepared to remuster at short notice, if necessary. As usual, many of his nobles and supporters were grievously disappointed and saw this as weakness.
So Thurstan departed southwards and most of the Scots northwards, and Rook's Burgh prepared itself for a more or less normal Yule.
In mid-January, with no word of or from Stephen, David went north himself for a council-meeting at Stirling, in hard frost but calm weather. That council decided, amongst other things, without actually saying so, that the King had misjudged, acted weakly in not taking Northumbria and Cumbria by main force when he had his army assembled. Clearly strategy by gesture, artifice and wits was much less popular than that of honest cold steel.
It was on his way back to Rook's Burgh from this meeting that an urgent messenger from Ranulph de Soulis met the King. Stephen had landed an army unexpectedly at Berwick-on-Tweed, from a great fleet of ships, and was invading the Merse and Lothian, himself leading.
After the first sickening jolt of near-despair at men's deceit and dishonesty, David acted swiftly. He sent back Hervey the Marischal to Stirling with orders for an immediate full-scale muster of the nation's greatest strength; but while this was assembling, he was to send on all available forces immediately.
He sent warning to Lothian and Clydesdale and Galloway. And he raced on for Rook's Burgh with all speed.
There he learned the details. The English had been cunning. Coming in the usual way, by land, the Scots would have had some warning of a large force approaching; by sea, none. After landing at the mouth of Tweed, Stephen had struck inland, up-river, into the Merse. But of course having no horses, his advance was comparatively slow - the disadvantage of any sea-borne invasion. This had given time for de Soulis, left in charge at Rook's Burgh, to fling forward such troops as remained there from the original muster, with what was quickly obtainable locally, to the number of about fifteen hundred, and these were now fighting a delaying action along Tweedside and the South Merse. Young Earl Cospatrick had scraped together about eight hundred of his people, and with these was harrying the enemy flank on the north. Others like Burnet of Fairnington and de Mautelant, Hugo's vassal at Lauder, were out harassing likewise. But it was reckoned that Stephen had landed at least eight thousand, and these would not hold him up for long. Last reports had put him at Lennel, the other side of Coldstream, only a dozen miles away -although part of his force was said to be heading northwards up the coast towards Dunbar.
David had three courses open to him. He could hurry back northwards to meet the forces which Hervey should be sending on — but that might take days, before any effective counter-stroke could be mentioned. And there was always the possibility that Stephen might be expecting reinforcements by land or sea. He might shut himself up here in the March Mount Castle and wait to be besieged — undignified and probably unprofitable, and preventing him from placing himself at the head of his forces when they did arrive. Or he could attempt some small sally, however limited, here and now.
The trouble was that his total available manpower meantime, including the party which had accompanied him from Stirling, less the many sent off as couriers, amounted to no more than two hundred. Not a great deal could be done with two hundred against thousands, however gallant. But there was one point in his favour — being the King's companions and escort they were all superbly mounted, lordlings, knights and chivalry. He could move fast, therefore and make rings around dismounted men.
Hugo, supported by William of Allerdale and others, said that they should go add themselves to the delaying, harassing forces, forming two or three powerful cavalry wedges to bore into and disorganise Stephen's leadership group especially. Who could tell what such determined attacks against a dismounted host might achieve? But David shook his head. Later, perhaps. But first he had another notion. Two hundred men on fast horses should be sufficient . . .
Late February afternoon as it was, with the early dusk settling over the Cheviot foothills, he led this company out and across the Teviot ford, to turn eastwards along the south side of Tweed. Despite the poor light, he maintained a fierce pace, which soon had the two hundred considerably strung out. In only about six miles they were over the unmarked march into Northumbria, at Haddenstank. Fortunately all knew the road well, although it was on the wrong side of the Tweed, a Cheviot drovers' road - otherwise there might have been unfortunate spills. Presently the glow of the hundreds of English camp-fires ahead was lighting up the night sky - but on the other side of the great river. As David had anticipated, they saw no troops on this English side, only the occasional salmon-fishers' hamlet and milling township.
Twenty-five miles, most of it in real darkness, on a frosty night of stars but no moon, will take even expert horsemen almost four hours, so that it was well into the evening before they heard the hollow booming of the Norse Sea breakers before them on the Tweedmouth beach. Slowly now, circumspectly, they rode down to the fishing haven and village. They were directly opposite the defensive town of Berwick-on-Tweed across the half-mile-wide estuary basin. Some lights twinkled from windows there.
Local fishermen, with cold steel held before their eyes, confirmed what David had expected. The English invasion fleet lay out in the sheltered waters of the estuary, at the Berwick side. They were packed tight over there, some seventy vessels all told - although some of the smaller craft used for ferrying men and supplies were lying in at the Hospice haven nearby.
Well enough content, they enquired how many fishing-boats, the typical high-prowed cobles of the Tweed area, were available here, at the boat strand; and were informed just.under a score were there, drawn up on the sand and shingle. That would serve their purpose - say ten men to a boat. Sufficient fishermen were routed out, to row the boats. Leaving the horses under guard, the Scots helped the Tweedmouth men, doubtful as they were, to push the cobles down into the shallows, then piled aboard.
The flotilla pushed off, the creaking of the long sweeps drowned in the steady thunder of the surf on the sand-bar at the estuary mouth. Only one or two faint lights glimmered from what must be the fleet of sea-going ships lying to anchor. Candles and lamp-oil were apt to be too expensive for sailor-men to burn of a night; besides, most of the crews would be ashore in the town's alehouses, the fishermen assured. David and his men anticipated little difficulty.
As the dark hulks of the vessels loomed up, it seemed as though they constituted a solid barrier, so closely were the craft packed, most indeed warped side-by-side. Swiftly the raiders swarmed up from the cobles to the decks of the larger ships, the more agile going first and aiding their companions. David's orders were simple and clear. Every ship was to be set on fire. There was to be no unnecessary- bloodshed. Only if crewmen resisted actively were they to be maltreated - he had no real quarrel with the shipmen. Whenever each ship was sufficiently alight, one or two men were to be left to see that it continued to blaze, was not extinguished, the rest to move on to the next vessel. With nearly twenty teams often the thing should not be too difficult. Tarred timbers should burn well.
The seizing of the dark, silent fleet was indeed not difficult; but tarry timbers and gear or none, the setting of it all alight was less easy. They found few men aboard, none at all on some craft; and of such as were, most were already in their bunks, asleep or drunken. Only one or two actually showed fight, and these were quickly disposed of. The later ships to be attacked, of course, received some warning, and some of their people may have made their escape either in small boats or merely by-jumping overboard. Anyway, resistance was practically non-existent.
But getting major fires started, and then ensuring that these went on to destroy the vessels, was much harder than anticipated, assiduously as all applied flint and tinder. Fires admittedly fairly quickly glowed and flickered all over the fleet; but these seemed
notably slow to run together, coalesce and turn into blazing ships. Being a calm and frosty night there was little wind to fan the flames. Ships timbers seemed grievously slow to catch. Moreover, presently some proportion of the incendiaries had to break off their efforts to repel boarders in the shape of crewmen from ashore at Berwick, who had seen the fires and come rowing out to their vessels. These did not represent any major challenge to the King's company, for they were mere peaceful seafarers not trained fighting-men - and largely drink-taken at that. But they further delayed the arson.
However, the Scots did learn, by trial and error, and by using bedding, clothing, broken bunk timber and the like, aided by lamp-oil and pitch where it could be found. And once these smaller fires, shrewdly positioned, did set alight to the tarry timbers, the latter burned strongly and did not die out until wholly consumed.
At length, reasonably satisfied, David gave orders to return to Tweedmouth beach. Not every ship would be destroyed, but most of those that were not would be unusable for a considerable time. Stephen would not sail back to England in this fleet, that was certain.
The town of Berwick was most evidently awake now and in an uproar, as they rowed back; but that was all to the good and represented no threat. The more panic the better; the more alarming would be the reports hurried along Tweedside to the invading army — which was part of the objective.
Promising the fishermen some silver for their part in the night's activities, David ordered to horse, and led the way back whence they had come, along the south side of the river.
Their night was not yet finished however. At the little-used ford below Twizel, where the Till came in and deposited much silt to shallow the water, some nine miles west, they crossed the river. It was really too deep and swift for use at this time of year, but by holding each other's stirrup-leathers, keeping close to support each other, and gentling their beasts heedfully, they got over without loss.
They were now, of course, behind Stephen's lines, and must be prepared to come across groups of the enemy, camped or otherwise. But they knew that the main force was camped another four miles ahead, in the Coldstream area, facing their own delaying force; so any troops they might run into hereabouts would be apt to.be
supply people, stragglers, second-rate fighters, and as such little trouble to themselves. Indeed, it might be advantageous to encounter some of these, in order to spread rumour and possible panic forward.
In the event they saw nobody, and rode northwards into the dark plain of the Merse. About a mile in, they turned west again, parallel with Tweed. It was now well after midnight. They avoided villages and farmsteads, which might be enemy-occupied.
With the glow of camp-fires ahead, somewhat reduced now-although that was perhaps partly the effect of the much brighter glare coming from behind, to the east, where the shipping burned in the estuary - they halted for a brief hour or so of rest. David explained his new strategy. They would split into groups, or wedges, as Hugo and William had suggested - say four, of fifty men each. But they would not descend upon battle-ready troops but on sleeping men. This might not be accepted warfare, nor yet chivalrous; but it should be effective and ought to produce more alarm. It was the spirit of the enemy he was concerned to assail, rather than their bodies. Four wedges of horsemen crashing down out of the night ought to create a deal of apprehension and despondency.
Groups of fifty under David, de Soulis, Hugo and the Lord William were marshalled into approximate arrowhead formations, and riding thus they spread over a fairly wide area north of the camps. Four or five thousand men sleeping in the open take up a lot of space. There were no tents nor pavilions in this encampment; presumably Stephen and his chief leaders slept in Coldstream cottages. But the fighting-men lay on the frosted ground. Hence the large numbers of fires, hundreds of them, each with its tight circle of sleepers as close around as they dared, the sentinels seeking to keep the embers refuelled. Observing this from as near as they dared advance, quietly, David decided that it was all to the good. The fires could be made to assist them, and the sentinels, being preoccupied with wood-gathering, would be the less effective opponents.
The four groups spaced themselves well apart, perhaps four hundred yards. The King, furthest to the west, had a whin-bush set alight as signal, to blaze furiously. Then all the wedges broke into a trot, a canter and a gallop, to thunder down upon the sleeping encampment area.
There could be no coherent description of what followed, utter chaos and wild surprise and panic on the one hand, disciplined and inexorable manoeuvre and quartering on the other. In formation, looser than had they been in actual battle and daylight, the groups bored headlong into and through the circles of recumbent men around the fires, swords flailing, hooves pounding and trampling, causing bloody ruin, scattering the blazing wood and embers, creating utter confusion, then wheeling on to the next circle and the next. Weaving in roughly figure-of-eight patterns, the attackers turned that sleeping army into a fleeing, yelling, leaderless mob in only minutes, ungovernable, every man for himself. Some groupings amongst those not attacked first did seek to rally and put up some defence; but bemused with sleep, in no formation, surrounded by screaming horror and with no central direction, they were no match for the armoured, mounted knightly wedges.
It was bloody nightmare and disaster.
In the midst of it, David himself was trying to think as a general and not as a captain of cavalry, difficult as this was in the fierce action and heady excitement. As it became evident that the English could not rally and form any coherent opposing force for some time, he wondered whether to break off and make a dash for Coldstream township, where he anticipated that Stephen and the enemy leadership were ensconced, to exploit this unconventional victory to the full. But he could not be sure that they were at Coldstream, however probable. They would be warned by now, surely. Again, he did not know what sort of numbers might be with Stephen and his lords - possibly many times more than two hundred, and his best knights probably. So such an attempt might well be a failure and tend to undo much that had been achieved. His own men were tired and in no state to face fresh and rested knights who had had time to marshal themselves, even though they might be dismounted - and no doubt Stephen would have stolen some horses since his landing. It was not practicable.
When there seemed little more that the wedges could usefully do, he had his horn blown to reassemble his scattered company. Three proved to be missing and eight wounded in some degree - extraordinarily light casualties considering the havoc wrought. Leaving the stricken area, they trotted off westwards. Behind them the entire eastern sky was now red with the false dawn of the burning fleet.
In less than two miles they ran into the aroused vanguard of their own defensive force, in the Birgham area, advancing slowly, in mystification as to what was going on ahead. This force was commanded by the young Earl Cospatrick and Simon Loccard, another of Hugo's vassals, an experienced fighter. These David ordered to marshal their entire force, which had been sleeping after an exhausting day, and at once to advance on the disorganised enemy before these could recover and reform, to keep up the pressure. Then he led his weary ten-score back to the village of Eccles nearby, for desperately needed sleep and rest and feed for the horses.
In the morning they learned that the English were in full and disorderly flight, retiring on Berwick. What they would do then was questionable. But finding their fleet destroyed and probably with a much exaggerated idea as to the numbers arrayed against them, the chances were that they would retreat into Northumbria, and probably keep on retreating. Much would depend on whether reinforcements were on their way; but on the other hand they would realise that, in a hostile invaded country, reinforcements would be apt to reach the defenders more powerfully and effectively.
By mid-afternoon David's scouts sent information that Stephen was indeed in full retreat southwards, by land, leaving his shattered fleet to extricate itself, and the northern detachment which had marched towards Dunbar, as best i
t could. The invasion was over.
David would have followed up his enemy, but just had not the manpower available, as yet. Besides enough was probably enough, meantime.
30
THEREAFTER, OF COURSE, the King was faced with the same problem as heretofore, only more so. A large army descended upon Tweeddale from all quarters, probably one of the largest Scotland had ever assembled - when the urgent need for it had passed. The actuality of invasion had stirred the land as nothing else would, and contingents had come from as far away as the Highlands and Mar. Fergus even brought six thousand from Galloway. David found himself with a host of over fifty thousand - and all Tweedside quickly groaned under their presence, yet had to feed them.
But this time the King was in a different mood. If anything was clear, it was that Stephen and the English required to be taught a lesson. For once he was disinclined to damp down his warlike supporters and talk peace and patience and the benefits of diplomacy over battle. On every count his policies of restraint, bargain and detente had failed or been cynically made a mock of. Now he had no option but to try main force — with mighty main force to hand. Indeed, he could do no other. Had he sought to disperse this vast army a second time, it was highly doubtful whether he could ever have assembled another. Anyway, his lords would probably have revolted.
So, in late March, it was full-scale invasion. They would punish Stephen, take over Northumbria and Cumbria by force and occupation, establish the Scottish border from Tees to Ribble once and for all, and if advisable march on further south. And, to be sure, they would do so against a usurper, claiming Maud as rightful occupant of the English throne.
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