At the very moment when the hostile armies were closing in stern conflict, says the Monk of Malmesbury, Gloucester and Hereford were in hot wrangle over the question of precedence; and Gloucester sprang forward, 'inordinately bent on carrying off a triumph at the first onset.' His heavy cavalry, though hampered for space and disconcerted by the treacherous pits, went forward gallantly, under the cover of a strong force of archers, who severely galled the Scots, and even drove back their bowmen. They crashed against Sir Edward Bruce's division, which received them 'like a dense hedge' or 'wood.' The great horses with their eager riders dashed themselves in vain against the solid and impenetrable schiltron. Those behind pressed forward, only to bite the dust, like their comrades, under the spears and axes of the Scots. 'There,' says the Monk of Malmesbury, 'the horrible crash of splintered spears, the terrible clangour of swords quivering on helmets, the insupportable force of the Scottish axes, the fearsome cloud of arrows and darts discharged on both sides, might have shaken the courage of the very stoutest heart. The redoubling of blow on blow, the vociferation of encouragements, the din of universal shouting, and the groans of the dying, could be heard farther than may be said.' The Lanercost writer goes near to justifying Scott's remarkable expression, 'steeds that shriek in agony.' Seldom in history has there been so fierce a turmoil of battle.
According to Barbour, Randolph, noting the strain upon the first division, bore down to Sir Edward's support and drew an equally heavy attack upon himself. Steadily the second division won ground, though they seemed lost in the swarms of the enemy, 'as they were plunged in the sea.' But not yet did victory incline to either side. Then Bruce threw into the scale the weight of the third division, the Steward and Douglas ranging themselves 'beside the Earl a little by.' With splendid tenacity, the English grappled with the newcomers in stubborn conflict, till, Barbour says, 'the blood stood in pools' on the field.
The engagement was now as general as the nature of the position allowed. Both sides settled down to steady hard pounding, and it remained to be seen which would pound the hardest and the longest.
The English were at enormous disadvantage in being unable to bring into action their whole force together. They could, indeed, supply the gaps in the narrow front with sheer weight of pressure from the rear, and they took bold risks on parts of the softer ground, especially along the north bank of the Bannock; but, even so, the fighting line was grievously hampered for space, and the wild career of wounded steeds defied the most strenuous efforts to preserve order. The archers, however, worked round to the right of Sir Edward's division, plying their bows with such energy and discrimination as greatly to disconcert Sir Edward's men. The moment had come for King Robert to order into action the marshal, Sir Robert de Keith, with his handful of 500 horsemen 'armed in steel.' Keith dashed upon the archers in flank, and scattered them in flight. This successful operation gave the Scots archers the opportunity to retaliate with effect, while it relieved the foremost division to reconcentrate their energies on the heavy cavalry steadily thundering on their front. But more English cavalry pressed to occupy the ground abandoned by the English archers. And now Bruce appears to have brought his rear division into action upon the English flank. It was his last resource. The Scots, says Barbour, 'fought as they were in a rage; they laid on as men out of wit.' But still the English disputed every inch of ground with indomitable resolution.
It was probably about this time that the gallant young Gloucester fell. After brilliant efforts to penetrate the impenetrable wedge of Scots, he had his charger slain under him, and was thrown to the ground. The mishap is said to have dazed his men, who 'stood as if astonied,' instead of aiding him to rise, burdened as he was with the weight of his armour, and possibly trammelled by his horse. He was thus slain in the midst of the 500 armed followers he had led into the front of the battle. The Monk of Malmesbury raises a loud lament over Gloucester's luckless fate: 'Devil take soldiery,' he exclaims in pious energy, 'whose courage oozes out at the critical moment of need.' It may be, however, that others are right in stating that Gloucester was slain in consequence of his rash and headlong advance at the very first onset.
The prolonged and doubtful struggle naturally wearied out the patience of the non-combatants behind Gillies Hill. Choosing a captain, says Barbour, they marshalled themselves—15,000 to 20,000 in number—improvised banners by fastening sheets on boughs and spears, and advanced over the brow of the hill in view of the battle raging below. The English, it is said, believing them to be a fresh army, were struck with panic. Bruce marking the effect shouted his war-cry and urged his men to their utmost efforts. The English van at last yielded ground, though not at all points. The Scots, however, seized their advantage, and pressed with all their might. The English line broke, falling back on the Bannock. Confusion increased at every step. Horsemen and foot, gentle and simple, were driven pell-mell into the Bannock, and but few of them were lucky enough to gain the south bank; the burn, Barbour says, was 'so full of horses and men that one might pass over it dry-shod.' The panic ran through the whole English army. The day was lost and won.
King Edward refused to believe the evidence of his senses, and obstinately refused to quit the field. But it is the merest bravado—though countenanced by Scott—when Trokelowe relates how the King, in the bitterness and fury of his wrath, 'rushed truculently upon the enemy like a lion robbed of whelps,' copiously shed their blood, and was with difficulty withdrawn from the orgy of massacre. Unquestionably he stood aloof from the battle, watching its progress at a safe distance. When the English gave way in hopeless rout, Valence and Argentine seized his rein and hurried him off the field in spite of all remonstrance. It was not a moment too soon, for already, says Gray, Scots knights 'hung with their hands on the trappings of the King's destrier' in a determined attempt to capture him, and were disengaged only by the King's desperate wielding of a mace. They had even ripped up his destrier, so that presently he had to mount another. Once the King was clear of immediate pursuers, Argentine directed him to Stirling Castle and bade him farewell. 'I have not hitherto been accustomed to flee,' he said, 'nor will I flee now. I commend you to God.' And striking spurs to his steed he charged furiously upon Sir Edward Bruce's division, but was quickly borne down and slain.
The turning of the King's rein was the signal for the general dispersal of the army in flight.
King Edward, attended by Valence, Despenser, Beaumont, Sir John de Cromwell, and some 500 men-at-arms, made for Stirling Castle. Mowbray, with the plainest commonsense—the suggestion of treachery is preposterous—begged him not to stay, for the castle must be surrendered; in any case, it would be taken. So the King was conducted in all haste round the Park and the Torwood towards Linlithgow; the Lanercost writer assigns as guide 'a certain Scots knight, who knew by what ways they could escape.' But for Bruce's anxious care to keep his men in hand in case of a rally, it seems quite certain that Edward would not have escaped at all. Douglas went in pursuit, but he had only some sixty horsemen. On the borders of the Torwood he met Sir Lawrence de Abernethy, who was coming to assist the English, but at once changed sides on learning the issue of the day, and joined Douglas in pursuit of the fugitive King. At Linlithgow Douglas came within bowshot of the royal party, but, not being strong enough to attack, hung close upon their rear, capturing or killing the stragglers. The pursuit was continued hot-foot through Lothian; Douglas
'was alwais by thame neir;
He leit thame nocht haf sic laseir
As anys wattir for to ma'—