The Scottish army, which consisted principally of spearmen or lancers, was arranged in four divisions or schiltrons. Those in the centre held their long spears perpendicular, and stood ready to fill up a vacancy, while each intervening rank gradually sloped their weapons till they came to a level. The front rank kneeling, and the whole closely wedged together, presented to the enemy the appearance of four enormous, impenetrable porcupines, the space between each being filled up with archers.
Edward, on seeing these dispositions for battle, hesitated to give orders for the attack, and proposed that his followers should pitch their tents, and allow the soldiers and horses time for rest and refreshment. This was opposed by his officers, as being unsafe in their present situation,—a small rivulet only intervening between the two armies. “What, then, would you advise?” exclaimed Edward. “An immediate advance!” was the reply; “the field and the victory will be our’s.”—“In God’s name, then, let it be so!” said the King.
The Earls of Lincoln and Hereford, accordingly, led the first squadron to the attack. Their progress, however, was retarded by an extensive morass, which covered the front of the Scots, and obliged their enemies to make a circuit to the west. While thus employed, the powerful squadron under the Bishop of Durham managed to get in front of the enemy. Bek, however, on observing the formidable appearance of his opponents, wished to delay the charge till supported by the column under the command of the King. “Stick to thy mass, Bishop,” said Ralf Basset of Drayton, “and teach us not what to do in the face of an enemy.”—“On, then,” said Bek, “Set on, in your own way; we are all soldiers to-day, and bound to do our duty.” Instantly they rushed forward, and soon became engaged with the first schiltron, which was almost simultaneously attacked on the opposite quarter by the first division which had cleared the morass. The cavalry of the Scots, and a large body of the vassals of John Cumyn, immediately wheeled about, and left the field without awaiting the attack. The schiltrons of spearmen, however, stood firm, and repulsed all the efforts of their numerous and heavy-armed assailants, who recoiled again and again from before the mass of spears which their enemies presented. Baffled in their attack, the cavalry of Edward charged upon the archers, who, less able to stand their ground against the weight of their mail-clad adversaries, gave way. In the confusion, Sir John Stewart of Bonkill, brother to the Steward of Scotland, was thrown to the ground, while attempting to rally his vassals, the archers of Selkirk; and though many of them rushed forward to his assistance, their exertions were in vain:—their gallant leader fell, surrounded by the bodies of his faithful tenantry.
Though heavy squadrons of cavalry were continually pushed forward against the Scottish spearmen, still the latter maintained their ranks, and displayed such admirable discipline and stubborn resolution, that Edward, convinced of the inability of breaking their array, suspended the charges of his horsemen, and ordered all his archers and slingers to advance.[22]
Langtoft thus describes the conduct and appearance of the Scottish infantry.
“Ther formast conrey, ther bakkis togidere sette,
Ther speres poynt ouer poynt, so sare & o thikke
& fast togidere joynt, to se it was ferlike.
Als a castelle thei stode, that were walled with stone,
Thei wende no man of blode thorgh tham suld haf gone
Ther folk was so mykelle, so stalworth & so clene,
Ther foyntes forward prikelle, nonhut wild thei wene,
That if alle Inglond fro Berwik vnto Kent,
The folk therin men fond had bien thider sent,
Stength suld non haf had, to perte tham thorgh oute,
So wer thei set sad with poyntes rounde aboute.”
Vol. ii. p. 304, 305.
The formation of these Scottish schiltrons was admirably adapted for defence; and had they been supplied with a sufficient body of cavalry to have protected them from the assaults of the archers, they might have kept their ground, in defiance of every effort of the enemy. But, deserted by their own cavalry, they now stood helplessly exposed to a storm of missiles which assailed them in all directions; for though those in the centre bravely pressed forward to fill up the chasms in front, cloud after cloud of arrows, mingled with stones, continued to descend among their ranks with increasing and deadly effect, till the ground was encumbered around them; while their former assailants sat with their horses on the rein, ready to burst in upon them at the first opening that would offer. The Scots at last became unsteady, under the incessant and murderous discharge of the English artillery. The cavalry then dashed forward, and breaking in upon their ranks, completed the confusion.
Wallace now saw that retreat was the only expedient left by which he could save the remnant of his countrymen; and having, with incredible efforts, rallied a number of his most determined adherents, he attacked the foremost of the pursuers, and by that means covered the retreat of the fugitives. Amongst the slain, Brian le Jay[23] is particularly mentioned. The death of this Templar, which took place in Callender wood, damped the ardour of his companions, and enabled the Scots to make good their retreat. In this sanguinary conflict, 15,000 Scots are said to have been left on the field; the most distinguished of whom were Sir John Graham of Dundalk, Sir John Stewart of Bonkill, and MacDuff, grand-uncle to the Earl of Fife. The extent of the English loss, from the stubborn opposition of their enemies, must also have been considerable. After the battle, Wallace fell back on Stirling, which he burnt, in order to prevent it from falling into the hands of the English.
Respecting this battle, Scottish authors give a very different account from the preceding, which is chiefly taken from the pages of English historians. According to the former, the envy of the nobles towards Wallace, and the dissensions incident thereto, were the chief, if not the sole occasion of the disaster. The Scottish army, say they, consisted of three divisions of ten thousand men each, under the command of Sir John Cumyn, Lord of Badenoch, chief of the powerful clan of that name; Sir John Stewart, brother to the Lord of Bute, who, in addition to his own tenantry, headed those of his absent brother; and Sir William Wallace,—three of the most powerful men in the country, the two former from their birth and influence, the latter from the great fame acquired by his military achievements. On the brink of the engagement, an imprudent and unfortunate disagreement arose among the leaders. Stewart insisted upon taking command of the army, being, as he conceived, entitled to that honour, as the representative of his brother, who was Lord High Steward of Scotland; Cumyn claiming it, in his own right, on account of high birth, and near relationship to the crown; and Wallace, as Guardian of the kingdom, refused to admit the pretensions of either to a command which he, as representative of their absent sovereign, conceived himself every way entitled to, even though he had not earned that honour by former services. Stewart, in the heat of the altercation, is said to have upbraided Wallace with the lowness of his birth, and charged him with encroaching on the rights of the nobility, which reminded him, he said, “of the owl in the fable, who, having borrowed a feather from one bird, and a feather from another, became vain of his plumage, and endeavoured to lord it over his betters. The application is not difficult,” continued he; “for, if every nobleman in Scotland were to claim his part of those vassals which now follow your banners, your own personal retainers would make but a sorry appearance in support of your high-flown pretensions.” Wallace heard, with stern composure, those ill-timed remarks of the haughty chieftain. “I am not ignorant,” said he, “of the source whence this insulting language has proceeded; and since you, my Lord, condescend to utter their sentiments, you may be also induced to imitate their example: and even this,” glancing a look of indignation at Cumyn, “I am not altogether unprepared for. Your fable of the owl is not quite applicable; for I always showed myself in the face of day, asserting the liberty and independence of my country, while some others, like owls, courted concealment, and were too much afraid of losing their roosts, to leave them for such a cause. As to my followers, I wish no man to follow me who is not sound at the heart in the cause of his country; and either at the head or in the ranks of these, I will always consider it my glory to be found. In the mean time, till it appear who are entitled to that character, I will make an alteration in my position.” Having thus spoken, he removed those under his command to a strong position on the face of a hill immediately behind.