Stirling Castle, its place in Scottish history

by Eric Stair-Kerr

When Edward I. agreed to act as arbiter in the case of the Scottish succession he startled the competitors by demanding their acknowledgment of his claim to be Lord Paramount of Scotland. The selfish disputants, each anxious to obtain the prize of even a vassal kingdom, and not being stirred with the patriotism which was to be born of the coming struggle, reluctantly consented to admit the English King’s pretension, while the guardians of the realm apparently saw no way of avoiding civil war except by concurring in this base arrangement. It was agreed, therefore, in 1291, that Edward should have seisine of Scotland and its royal castles until two months after the award of his arbitrament; and in accordance with this compact a southerner, named Norman Darcy, was placed in command of Stirling Castle.

In November, 1292, judgment was given in favour of the feeble John Balliol, who almost immediately swore fealty to the English King and who was crowned soon afterwards at Scone. Weak though he was, however, the new King of Scots could not endure the oppressive exactions of his overlord. At first he obeyed when his suzerain summoned him to court, but soon he renounced his allegiance and opened negotiations with France, thus forming a friendship that developed into a close alliance to last till the reign of Queen Mary. Edward invaded Scotland with a powerful army to punish his perfidious vassal. The town of Berwick was mercilessly sacked, the Scots were defeated by Surrey at Dunbar, and the English monarch made a triumphal procession through Scotland, arriving at Stirling in the middle of June, 1296. So dispirited had John Balliol’s subjects become that the castle garrison fled at the approach of the invading host, leaving only the porter to deliver the keys of the fortress to the English King.[12]

THE ABBEY CRAIG AND RIVER FORTH.

The rise of Wallace inspired the Scots with courage. They required a man of might to lead them and not a “Toom Tabard,” or empty jacket, as they called their English-made King. It was a fearless band of patriots that was posted on the Abbey Craig on an autumn day of 1297, waiting to swoop down on the troops of Warenne and Cressingham. The English commanders made the mistake of attempting to cross the Forth by Stirling Bridge, thus playing into the hands of Wallace, whose spearmen rushed from the steep hillside and caught their foes in a trap. A great many of the garrison, including the constable, were slain or were drowned in this valley of death hardly more than half a mile from their fortress.[13]

After the defeat, Sir Marmaduke de Twenge endeavoured to hold Stirling Castle for King Edward, but, receiving no succour from the south, he was soon obliged to retire from his dangerous seat, leaving it to Wallace and the Scots. Falkirk, in the following year, avenged the battle of the bridge. Wallace, with a number of fugitives, fled to Stirling Castle, but realising the impossibility of holding the fortress against the English army, he dismantled it and withdrew. Edward pushed on to Stirling, where he rested for some days to recover from a kick from his horse, his men being employed in rebuilding the castle as a station for another English garrison.

Little more than a year elapsed, however, before the Scots laid siege to the fortress. The defenders appealed to their King for aid; but the winter had set in, and Edward could not induce his barons to advance into the heart of Scotland. The only course open to him, therefore, was to authorise the governor, John Sampson, to surrender. The garrison, accordingly, some ninety in number, delivered up the stronghold to the patriots, whose commander’s name of Gilbert Malerbe seems unsuited to a leader of a band of Scots.[14] This same Gilbert proved faithless to the Scottish cause, and years afterwards he was hanged at Perth for treachery to King Robert the Bruce.

The custody of the perilous castle of Stirling was entrusted to the chivalrous knight, Sir William Oliphant. He must have almost daily expected his hour of trial to be at hand; but not until 1304 was the stronghold besieged by King Edward, for on two previous occasions when he journeyed past Stirling, the King was not prepared to attack the strongest castle in Scotland. In that year, however, every effort was made to secure the fortress for England. Oliphant informed the King that he held the castle for Sir John de Soulis, one of the Scottish guardians, who was at this time resident in France, and that if Edward would grant him a truce to enable him to go abroad, he would bring back word from his superior.

But the King, furious at the stubborn opposition of the Scots, replied: “To no such terms will I agree; if he will not surrender the castle let him keep it against us at his peril.” On receiving this answer the garrison felt that their only course of action was to hold out to the last extremity. The siege began on the 22nd of April, and for three months the gallant defenders withstood the attack of the most formidable artillery which the English King could command. Edward had written to the Prince of Wales urging him to strip the lead from the churches of Perth, Dunblane and other places—leaving only the altars covered—in order to provide weights for the military engines.[15] He commanded also the Sheriff of York to dispatch forty cross-bowmen and forty carpenters to Stirling,[16] while the governor of the Tower of London was required to send north all the ammunition that was under his care in that arsenal.[17] So anxious indeed was the King to secure the assistance of his most experienced soldiers, that he forbade his knights to participate in tournaments without his special permission.[18]

While the English battered the walls of the castle with stones and leaden balls, and threw the combustible known as Greek Fire to damage the engines and injure the men, the defenders kept up a constant shower of javelins and other missiles. The King himself was struck by a weapon that lodged in a joint of his armour, and once a large stone fell so near his horse that the animal took fright and fell with his royal master. At last the stronghold was rendered untenable, for the walls were broken down in many places and the food supply was exhausted; but before the starving survivors of the garrison were allowed to issue forth, Edward experimented on the long-suffering fort with his most formidable engine, the War-Wolf. The Queen and her ladies viewed this assault from an oriel window constructed for the purpose.[19]