The retreat was more disastrous to the English than the battle. The bare-legged, bare-headed, bare-armed Scotch, with their long knives, drove their enemies in large numbers into the river Forth; and Barbour says the Bannock creek was so choked up that one might walk dry-shod from bank to bank on the drowned horses and men. The English loss was ten thousand; among them twenty-seven nobles, two hundred knights and seven hundred esquires, while twenty-two nobles and sixty knights were made prisoners. The pursuit continued for miles, every step marked by blood and booty. Those old knights went soldiering in great style; their military establishments were enormous and rich. The English camp was taken, with great booty in treasure, jewels, rich robes, fine horses, herds of cattle, droves of sheep and hogs (great eaters, those old English!), machines for the siege of towns, wagon loads of grain and portable mills; the train of wagons which carried the treasure into Scotland was sixty miles long. The king’s tent and treasure were captured, including the royal signet-ring. One prisoner was a talented Carmelite friar whom Edward had brought along to celebrate his anticipated victory in verse; but Bruce compelled him to buy his own release by writing a poem glorifying the Scotch victory instead.
But a greater spoil than all this was found in the ransom of captive knights and nobles. While the common soldiers were ruthlessly put to death, the wealthy were carefully spared and well treated. This was not done so much from the spirit of chivalry as from a spirit of speculation; wealthy prisoners were the prize for which many great battles were fought. An explanation of the large number of prisoners of this class is found in this fact, and in the additional one that a heavily-armored knight, if once dismounted, could not run away; if once thrown to the ground he was about as helpless as a turtle turned on his back. If a poor Scotchman stumbled over one of these dismounted ironclads his fortune was made—provided the prisoner or his friends had one. All to do was to cut the strings of his helmet, set your knife against his throat, and make a good bargain for taking it away again.
The victory of Bannockburn, besides enriching Scotland, forever secured her independence. It confirmed the fighting qualities of the Scots, in pitched battle, before the world. It got them the permanent alliance of France against England, out of which grew those long double wars which cost England so dearly, and prevented her finally conquering either country. Ever England was in the situation of the bear which, when she attacks the French hunter, finds his Scotch mastiff on her haunches. It gave Scotchmen a new respect among the English, and it no longer was said an English yeoman carried twelve Scots under his green jacket; so that to war on Scotland became less a pastime with English soldiers. For three hundred years, under the influence of the independence thus sturdily maintained, Scotch character grew as strong and self-respecting as that of England, so that the union between the two countries finally took place as a partnership of equals, rather than upon the conditions under which the lion and lamb are sometimes said to lie down together—the lamb inside the lion. A different relation existed between England and Ireland, with all the consequences of shame to one and suffering to the other that the world has for centuries seen.
Bannockburn was one of the most decisive battles of the world.
[To be continued.]
[SUNDAY READINGS.]
SELECTED BY THE REV. J. H. VINCENT, D. D.