The battles of the world

by J. Douglas Borthwick

STANDARD, BATTLE OF THE.—Fought A.D. 1135. The following graphic account gives the reason why the engagement was so called:

“King David at once marched into England to strike for the rights of his niece. Twice he ravaged Northumberland with merciless barbarity. In a third invasion he penetrated into Yorkshire. Stephen was in the south, hard pressed by the partisans of Matilda, and was obliged to leave the northern part of his kingdom to look to its own defence. There was a man in those parts who knew what to do. This was the aged Thurstan, Archbishop of York. He assembled the Barons at York, held a solemn fast, gave them absolution and his blessing, and delivered into their hands his crozier and the holy banner of St. Peter of York. He ordered processions of the priests with crosses, banners, and relics in every parish. He enjoined all men capable of bearing arms to rise “for the defence of the Church against the barbarians.” To all who should die in battle he promised salvation. He sent forth the priests to lead their parishioners to battle. Sickness alone prevented him, aged as he was, from putting on his own coat of mail.

The English standard was erected on Cutton Moor, near Northallerton. The mast of a ship was set up on a high four-wheeled car. At the top of the mast was a large cross; in the centre of the cross a silver box containing the consecrated wafer. Below the cross floated the banners of three Saints, St. Peter of York, St. John of Beverley, and St. Wilfred of Ripon. The idea of this car seems to have been taken from the great standard car which was used by the people of Lombardy.

The Scottish army was 26,000 strong. Men from the Lowlands of Scotland were there armed with cuirasses and long spears; archers from the southland “dales,” or valleys of the rivers that run into Tweed and Solway; troopers from the Border mountains, who rode small, but strong and active horses; the fierce men of Galloway, who carried long pikes and wore no defensive armour; clansmen from the Highlands with the small round target and claymore; men of the isles, who wielded a long-handled battle-axe. A strong body of knights and men-at-arms, sheathed in complete mail, rode around the King.

The English placed their standard in their centre. Their steel-clad knights dismounted, sent their horses to the rear, and formed in a compact mass round the standard car. The Scots came on, shouting their war cry, “Alban! Alban!” Their fierce charge drove in the English infantry, but they could not break through the dense array of mailed warriors who surrounded the standard, and received them on the points of their levelled lances. The long pikes of the Galloway men were shivered against the strong plate-armour of the knights. In vain the Highlanders tried to hew their way with the claymore into the mass of iron-cased chivalry. The archers of Yorkshire, Nottingham, and Lincolnshire, with their great bows, and arrows of three feet in length, ranged themselves on both flanks of the Scots, and kept up from either side a constant flight of their deadly shafts. On many another bloody day the Scots were destined to know right cruelly the fatal force of the cloth-yard arrow!

For full two hours the attack was maintained. At length the Scots began to recoil. An English soldier, cutting off the head of one of the slain, raised it aloft, and cried, “The head of the King of Scots.” The report that their King was killed flew through the Scottish army and filled them with dismay. They broke and fled. The King, tearing off his helmet to show his face, kept together a small body of troops around himself, and was able in some degree to check the pursuit. On that bloody moor he left 12,000 dead.”

STIRLING, BATTLE OF.—Fought, A.D. 1297.

“Wallace was engaged in the siege of Dundee when tidings were brought him that an army, fifty thousand strong, was on the march from England to put the Scots down. They were holding their course towards Stirling. Wallace immediately left Dundee and advanced to meet them. If he could reach the river Forth before the English, he meant to make them pay for their passage. He marched swiftly, talking over and arranging his plans with the good Sir John the Graham as they rode. When they reached the hill above Cambuskenneth, two miles east from Stirling, no English were in sight. It was not long, however, till their banners were seen approaching. The chief of their host was the Earl of Surrey. But he was old and in broken health, and the man who really took the command was Sir Hugh Cressingham, Edward’s Lord Treasurer of Scotland. Cressingham was a priest, haughty and insolent, who loved the corslet better than the cassock.

The English, three times more in number than the Scots, advanced and took up their position on the banks of the Forth. Wallace occupied the high ground to the north. The river, spanned by a long and narrow wooden bridge, flowed between the armies. The towers of Cambuskenneth Abbey threw their shadows slant and long as the September sun sank behind Ben Lomond. The glow of the watchfires lighted up the deep and sluggish waters of the Forth, as the two armies lay under the silent night, waiting for day, and what fortune God might send.

Morning came, but Surrey was in no haste to begin. The bridge was so narrow that only two men-at-arms could pass it abreast. The attempt to cross a deep river in the face of an enemy, by one narrow passage, was so dangerous that the English general hesitated to risk it. But the rash and scornful churchman, Cressingham, would try it. He insisted on instantly attacking the Scots with the division under his command. Surrey gave way to the taunts of the headstrong priest, and ordered the attack.