The English fleet was brought up to second the efforts of the stormers, but John Crab had so many cranes and springals in position, and hurled his huge copper-winged darts, heavy iron chains, and grappling hooks, and bundles of ignited tow, saturated with pitch, with such unfailing precision that the commanders were fairly daunted, and, fearing to involve the fleet in utter destruction, drew off, and the Scots, thus opportunely relieved, directed their undivided attention to the repeated assaults of the enemy.
During those hours of murderous strife the grand steward was passing from point to point with a reserve of 100 men, and wherever he found the garrison hardly pressed he succoured them with a few men, and animated them by his example and exhortations; and where the slaughter had been especially heavy he made good the loss from his fast diminishing reserves. The conflict was at its height, and the steward had done all that he could to strengthen the sorely-pressed garrison, only one soldier remaining in attendance upon him, when the startling news was brought that Edward’s warriors had destroyed the barriers at St. Mary’s gate, which they were endeavouring to burn down.
Hastily collecting a band of warriors, he pressed forward to the threatened point, passing numbers of young lads and fearless women busily engaged in collecting the missiles thrown over the walls by the enemy, and on approaching the scene of peril, he commanded the gate to be thrown open, and charging through the flame and smoke at the head of his brave followers he fell upon the assailants, sword in hand, and after a fierce conflict drove them off, restored the defences, and made fast the door again. The conflict ended in the utter repulse of the English forces, nevertheless the garrison was sorely thinned and exhausted, so that unless it was augmented by reinforcements, or some diversion was made in its favour, but little prospect of maintaining the fortress remained.
It was the policy of Robert Bruce never to risk a battle with his powerful enemies, and although sorely tried by the dangerous state to which Berwick was reduced, he maintained his resolution, but attempted a diversion by despatching Douglas and Randolph with 15,000 men to make a raid upon the northern shires of England, and, if possible, to fall upon York, and carry off Queen Isabella, who there awaited the issue of the campaign, imagining that she was secured from all peril by her distance from the theatre of war and by the strong walls of the city.
The Scots were not slow in carrying out the instructions of King Robert, but crossed the Solway, and made a rapid march upon York, only to find that their project had been discovered, and the Queen’s escape secured. It appears that a Scottish spy had fallen into the hands of the English, and confessed, “how our enemy, James Douglas, with a chosen band of men, would come to these parts in order to carry off the Queen, and those whom he should find resisting should be killed at the same time.” The danger of Queen Isabella, whose character was then unimpeached, aroused all the loyal energies of the Archbishop and Mayor of York, and hastily collecting a body of armed men, they made a rapid march to secure her majesty’s safety, and caused her to be conveyed by water to Nottingham.
The attempt to draw Edward from the siege of Berwick by threatening the safety of his queen having failed, the Scottish captains proceeded to carry out the second part of their programme with the utmost energy, and giving loose to their wild passion for burning and plundering, they wrought terrible mischief upon the northern towns and villages, as though determined to extort from King Edward the heaviest price for the fortress of Berwick, should he decide to maintain the siege, in spite of every obstacle, until it fell into his hands.
Deeply touched by the distress of the peasantry, the Archbishop of York, William de Melton, and the Mayor, Nicholas Fleming, attempted to organise an army, and check the depredations of the Scots, who had carried their wild riders to the gates of York, and set the suburbs on fire.
Perhaps history can furnish no more rash undertaking than this: Randolph and Douglas were cool and experienced captains, and ferocious soldiers; the troops they commanded were veterans, accustomed to victory, and experienced in the hardships and toils of the field; men who could only be approached by tried and steady soldiers, and who were not likely to yield the palm to the flower of the English army. To meet these, the Archbishop had to rely upon burghers and peasants, men little accustomed to the use of arms, and entirely deficient in military training, and for whom no competent leaders could be found. No lack of energy was shown by the Archbishop and Mayor, and the hasty and untried levies responded to their exhortations with equal zeal. There was no time to prepare the volunteers for the ordeal, no opportunities for testing their courage in skirmishes, for training them to advance upon such dangerous enemies as the Scots, or to retire before them in good order if they found them too strongly posted to be attacked with any prospect of success.
As though to compensate all physical defects by an extraordinary weight of spiritual influence, the numbers of the army were augmented by many priests, who are supposed to have been brought together at York for the celebration of the feast of St. Matthew.
Ten thousand men were all that the Archbishop could bring into the field, and with these he marched after the Scots, who prepared to receive his attack at “Myton Meadow, near the Swale water,” supposed to be a large field, at that time unenclosed, and situate some three miles east of Boroughbridge, just above the confluence of the rivers Ure and Swale, and in the immediate locality of the obscure village of Myton.