Chapter 8
The Battle of Bannockburn has figured so much in legend and story that it is difficult to disentangle what actually took place; still more difficult to discover is where it took place. Many antiquarians have lost their tempers over its true acreage, but the actual site seems to have been within the angle of Bannockburn and the river Forth, just to the south-east of Stirling, in the parish of St. Ninians. The details of this – ’the most lamentable defeat which an English army ever suffered’ – are similarly blurred, but out of the confusion arises the claim that it is … ‘the only pitched battle in recorded mediaeval history in which infantry totally and overwhelmingly defeated cavalry’.
In the summer of 1314 King Edward II – the vacillating son of an inspiring father – invaded Scotland. Robert Bruce withdrew to the Forth, knowing that Edward would tire his troops and strain his commissariat in crossing the wasted lands to the south. Stirling Castle, commanding the only bridge over the river, was being besieged by the Scots and Edward was determined to relieve it. He had to move quickly because, by an arrangement common in mediaeval warfare, the defenders had agreed to surrender if no relief arrived by midsummer’s day.
Bruce gave a lot of thought to his selection of a position on which to give battle to the numerically superior English. He had to bear in mind his great deficiency of cavalry, those few he had, both in numbers and accoutrements, being totally unfitted to cope with the English men-at-arms. Both from his own experience and that of Wallace, he was aware that a body of Scots infantry, when armed with their lengthy pikes and judiciously posted, could effectively resist all charges of cavalry. The piece of ground that Bruce selected was then known as the New Park, partly open and partly encumbered with trees; on one side it was protected by a morass, the Newmiln Bog, the passage of which he knew to be difficult and dangerous. In his rear lay a little valley above which rose a long green ridge, now known as the Gillies Hill, for thereupon were all his camp-followers and baggage.
Bruce received tidings on the 22nd of June 1314 that the English were advancing from Edinburgh. He immediately marched his men, about 8,000 in all, from the Torwood to the positions that he had assigned to them less than two days before. He formed them in four columns of divisions, apart from each other yet near enough to keep in touch. The right column was commanded by his brother Edward; the left by Douglas and the young Steward of Scotland; the centre by Thomas Randolph, the veteran Earl of Moray; and the reserve or fourth column was commanded by Bruce himself. He had a small body of cavalry, under Sir Robert Keith, the Mareschal of Scotland; to them he assigned the important and specific duty of attacking and, if possible, dispersing the English archers.
The Scots dispositions had been made to meet an attack along the old Roman road which ran from Falkirk to Stirling; this meant that Bruce’s three columns were facing south-east, the direction by which he expected the English to approach. The Scots were in a line extending from the brook, or ‘burn’, called the Bannock, to the village of St. Ninian. The right wing was protected by means of pits dug where the ground was firm, about three feet deep with a stake in each, lightly covered with sods and branches. Iron calthrops – triangular metal pieces constructed in such a manner that a point sticks threateningly upwards whilst the other points rest on the ground – were strewn over areas where cavalry might be expected to charge, so that their horses would be lamed by the sharp points.
Edward’s army moved throughout the morning and early afternoon of 23rd June, being already weary when they came into the Scots’ sight as they debouched from the vast wood which then stretched away towards Falkirk. The June sunshine fell brightly on their burnished arms, innumerable white banners were fluttering in the slight breeze and the particoloured pennons of the knights floated above the glittering columns like a vivid sea. Edward obviously considered that his first objective was to contact Stirling Castle in force, so that he could release its commander, Sir Robert Mowbray, from his promise of surrender. That done, the garrison could then, without dishonour, make a sortie on the Scottish left wing. To accomplish the task, Edward sent forward a force of about 500 cavalry under Sir Robert Clifford; they made a great circuit by the low grounds bordering on the Forth and had actually passed the Scots’ left before Bruce detected the glitter of their spears and armour arising through the long line of dust that rolled northward in the direction of Stirling. It is not clear whether the English force came up against the Scots defences or whether Bruce sent out a strong party to counter them; but it does seem apparent that the cavalry were repelled by the Scottish spearmen and sent reeling back in complete disorder, horses galloping in all directions with empty saddles.
Whilst this affair took place, the English vanguard were still steadily advancing, but yet so distant that Bruce, who had not mounted his battle-charger, was still riding along his line mounted on a small hackney, to see that all were in their places. He carried a battleaxe in his hand, and wore a golden crown upon his helmet thus showing to all that he was the King. From the English vanguard there came galloping ‘a wycht knicht and hardy’ named Sir Henry de Bohun, who bravely conceived the idea of terminating the strife at once and covering himself with honour. Couching his lance, he rode furiously at the King.
Armed at all points and more heavily mounted, the encounter was most unequal but Bruce did not decline it, and rode forward to meet him in full career. Just as they were about to close he swerved his hackney round, and as de Bohun’s lance passed harmlessly, he clove his head and helmet in twain with one blow of his battle-axe, and laid him dead at his feet. The weapon was shivered by the violence of the stroke; and to those who blamed him for his temerity, Bruce replied simply:
‘I have broken my good battle-axe.’
Easily discouraged, Edward now decided to try to outflank the Scots, turning their position under cover of darkness. So the English spent the night of 23rd/24th June following the course of the little river Bannock, which joins the Forth a few miles below Stirling, and crossing it in the marsh flats between Bannockburn village and Crookbridge. In the fourteenth century this area was extremely wet and marshy, making it a very difficult passage for heavy cavalry; the 20,000 heavily armed men of Edward’s army spent all night laboriously crossing the stream. The sun rises early on midsummer day in Scotland and daybreak found the English host a disorganised mass milling about on the marshy flats below St. Ninian’s Church. The main English body was across the stream but not yet formed up for battle; only the vanguard under the Duke of Gloucester had managed to get into any sort of order.
They were given no time to organise; Bruce saw that this was the one occasion in a thousand when his pikemen could, in attack, be more than a match for Edward’s cavalry. Rapidly facing his army to the new front, he launched them down the slight slope in echelon of schiltrons. In the white light of the early morning the still floundering English cavalry suddenly became aware of the phalanxes of pikes threateningly in motion and bearing down upon them. Before they could gather themselves, the footmen crashed heavily into the wallowing mass of men and horses; the great clash of men and arms at the first shock was said to have been heard over some distance. The attack had a devastating effect, many of the cavalry were immediately unhorsed to roll helplessly on the ground, while their horses, stabbed and maddened with wounds, plunged, reared and bolted, to spread confusion to the rear.
Warned by the noise, some of the English archers nimbly ran forward to a position on the right flank of the affray, getting their unarmoured persons out of trouble and also causing casualties in the massed Scots ranks. For a short time they fired unchecked, their arrows carving the usual deadly gaps in the hitherto steady Scots ranks. Sad experience had already warned the Scots that this might occur; the mounted force under Sir Robert Keith, that had been reserved for this very purpose by Bruce, came swiftly round the fringes of the morass and thundered into the lightly clad archers. Lacking spears or other long weapons and without any heavy support, the archers were immediately overthrown as they huddled together; soon they had been cut down or dispersed in all directions, further adding to the disorder that was now turning the English army into an undisciplined rabble. Seeing what had happened, other English archers feared to move to the flanks and tried to make their presence felt by firing from the rear, but their flights of arrows, discharged over the heads of their own troops against targets out of their sight, did little damage to the Scots and probably far more to the struggling English cavalry.
Battle of Bannockburn 24th June 1314
The battle developed into a confused mêlée between Bruce’s spearmen and the English men-at-arms; the huge masses of horse and foot stood locked together. The English cavalry tried desperately to extricate themselves but were quite unable to find sufficient space to draw out and charge back in. Fresh knights coming up from Edward’s main body could only make partial and ineffective charges in small bodies, efforts which failed utterly to break down the line of pikes, which caused dreadful casualties to the cavalry. The air was filled with the din of war, the clang of arms, the shouting of warcries; horses ran masterless, banners alternately rose and sank while the ground ran with blood amid the shreds of armour, broken spears, pennons and rich trappings torn and soiled with blood and muddy clay.
The Scots were pressing hard on the wavering masses of the English, whose rear ranks found it impossible to get up and into the fray; they stood helpless whilst their comrades were mown down. Then the English line began to give way, to falter; the gaps became larger as the exhausted and dispirited men looked wildly about them and wavered. Suddenly, like a dam before a tidal wave, it broke completely. The men who had not fallen on the pikes turned and fled in disorder. The panic was contagious, affecting those behind them who had not even had the opportunity of lifting their arm to make a warlike stroke; they stared hopelessly at the fleeing front ranks and then turned to fly with them, running for their lives until the defeat became a rout. Behind them lay the marshy banks of the Bannockburn and the broad reaches of the river Forth – they had no easy road to freedom. Soon, the narrow ravine of the burn was literally choked and bridged over by the slain; they piled up at the obstacle it presented until, coupled with the difficult nature of the ground, which held up the fugitive horsemen, the Scottish spearmen were upon them. Many, in terror, dashed their mounts into the river Forth where they drowned miserably.
Leaving the remnants of his army to their fate, Edward eluded capture by taking a circuitous route which led him past Stirling Castle; here he asked for shelter, but the Governor refused to admit him and shortly afterwards surrendered the castle as he had promised. The defeated King struggled on until he reached the castle of Dunbar, where he was hospitably received by the Earl of March. Compared with the slight losses of the Scots, the English army had lost an enormous number of men. The lesson standing out for all to learn was that cavalry, no matter how brave or determined, cannot defeat steady pikemen, unless the horsemen are supported by archers, who, in their turn, are worthless without the backing of heavy troops. Bannockburn was an exceptional reverse to the usual and fast developing successful methods of the English, but it was a battle lost by unskilful, almost insane, generalship rather than by failing to use the tactics that had brought victory at Falkirk.