CHAPTER III.
THE ENGLISH ARMY ADVANCE TO LINLITHGOW.—BATTLE OF FALKIRK, FROM THE ACCOUNTS GIVEN BY ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH WRITERS.—MISCELLANEOUS TRANSACTIONS.
Day broke on the army of England moving onward to Linlithgow in one long and variegated column. To those whom sanctity of character, or local situation, enabled to await its approach, the spectacle, which was now at hand, must have been fearfully interesting. Since the days of the Romans, the present army was perhaps the largest that had traversed the plains of Scotland. Many alterations had been introduced about this time into Europe by the crusaders; and Edward, who was no inapt scholar in the military art, had, during his residence in Palestine, and his expeditions to France, availed himself of every invention that came under his observation. His army, therefore, might justly be considered as the most perfect in discipline, equipment, and feudal splendour, that Christendom could boast of at the time. As it approached, it seemed to lengthen,—the interminable array issuing, as it were, from some inexhaustible source on the verge of the horizon: Its glittering mazes occasionally appearing and disappearing among the inequalities of the road, might be aptly compared to the undulating movements of one of those enormous serpents that figure in the pages of romance, some of whose coils are at times seen while its extremities are concealed amid the darkness of the den from whence it is represented as issuing forth. Most of the inhabitants fled before the unwelcome intruders, except a few Carmelite friars, who stopped to gaze on the warlike pageant.
The confused hum of this living mass increased as it advanced, till the deserted walls of Linlithgow resounded to the braying of clarions, the thundering of kettle-drums, and the prancing of war-steeds in flowing caparisons, bestrode by warriors mailed to the teeth, having long two-handed swords depending from their girdles, while their right hands held lances, and their left supported triangular shields painted with the various devices of their families.
Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln,[19] and Humphry de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, and Constable of England, led the first division. The second was under the charge of Bishop Bek, who, having executed the commission Edward had sent him by John Fitz-Marmaduke, next appeared in this portentous march, attended by thirty-nine banners; for this proud ecclesiastic spared no expense to render his retinue as magnificent as possible. In the third division under the command of the King, besides the royal standard (three leopards courant), there waved, the sacred banner of St John of Beverley, that of St George (white with a red cross), that of St Edmond, King of the West-Saxons, (blue with three gold crowns), that of St Edward the Confessor, (blue, with a cross fleury between five martlets, gold), and also the ominous standard of Henry III., by the unfurling of which the army were apprised of the vicinity of the enemy, and the certainty of an approaching battle. This gorgeous emblem of war was never displayed, except to announce a positive intention to fight: it was formed of red satin, bearing a dragon embroidered in gold, having sapphire eyes, and the tongue ingeniously contrived to seem continually moving.[20]
Amongst those who followed the royal banner, was Brian Fitz-Alan,[21] the late Governor of Scotland, attended by his vassals, and those Scots who still ventured to oppose the liberties of their country. Of the latter, we find Brian le Jay, preceptor of the Scottish Templars, who probably joined Edward at Torphichen. What number of knights accompanied him to the field in this formidable crusade against the freedom of that people who fostered them, cannot now be ascertained; we may, however, venture to include John de Sautre, “Maister de la Chivalerie de Templi en Ecosse.”
The immense multitude of Welsh collected by Edward, as being better acquainted with mountain warfare, were dispersed among the different divisions of the forces. Being mostly archers, and clothed in white tunics, they were easily distinguished from the other troops.
Tradition asserts, that this grand army took a whole day to deploy through the town of Linlithgow. This perhaps may be true respecting the parties escorting the heavy war-engines, suttlers attending the camp, and other stragglers; but the advanced guard of the English came in sight of the Scottish outposts early in the day. The latter occupied the ridge of a hill; and as the English marched up to attack them, a thick mist intervened, and prevented the intended rencounter.
When the day cleared up, the Scottish army was discovered in the distance, taking up their positions, and preparing for battle. Their numbers did not exceed 30,000—not a third part of the force opposed to them; and aware of the immense advantages which Edward possessed, and extremely averse to risk the safety of the country on the issue of a single battle, the Guardian would gladly have protracted the warfare, by retiring farther to the north. Divisions, however, prevailed among the leaders of the Scots; and, before they could agree on the measures necessary to be adopted, the near approach of the English, and the great superiority of the latter in cavalry, rendered retreat extremely hazardous.