Bright and clear dawned the morning of the 17th of October, 1346—the Saturday after the Feast of St. Michael—and on that morning great was the commotion, great the excitement, in the city of Durham. At an early hour, Queen Philippa was astir; and mounting her white palfrey betimes, she rode, escorted by knights, and nobles, and prelates, to where the English were encamped in Auckland Park.
Nor was it without an instinctive prescience that the beams of victory would fall on the red cross of St. George ere the sun went down behind the western hills; for the example of King Edward and his youthful heir had inspired the nation with a warlike ardour which defied odds, and every Englishman from Cornwall to the Tweed regarded himself as belonging to a superior and conquering race. Twenty years earlier, the terror inspired by the Scots was such that a hundred Englishmen looked with dread on half-a-dozen of the men whom the first Edward had driven before him at Falkirk. But since the days of Halidon a marvellous change had occurred, and every man who fought for the martial Plantagenet by whom that change had been wrought went to battle with a conviction that victory sat upon his helm.
On reaching the camp in Auckland Park, the queen gave orders for the army being drawn out in three divisions, each of which had its proportion of archers and men-at-arms. Of these, the first was commanded by Lord Percy, the second by Lord Neville and Lord Hastings, the third by Lord Moubray and Sir Thomas Rokeby, Sheriff of Yorkshire. A body of cavalry—chiefly composed of tall Northern men, with Danish blood in their veins, and the Danish burr on their lips—was kept in reserve, to give aid to those who might need it most, and intrusted to the leading of Lord De Roos, and Edward, Lord Baliol, whose experience in the Scottish wars eminently qualified him for the post.
These arrangements having been made, and the army being ready to march against the invaders, Queen Philippa rode along the lines and addressed herself to the soldiers. She reminded them that the honour of their king and the safety of their country were at stake; and she implored them, in their sovereign's absence, to do their duty, to fight manfully for his crown, and avenge the injuries which their countrymen had suffered at the hands of their barbarous foes.
"O queen," shouted the soldiers in reply, "we will acquit ourselves loyally in the absence of our lord; and never shall it be said that we fought the less valiantly because he was not present to behold our deeds."
"Then," replied the queen, "I leave you to encounter your enemies and the king's, and I recommend you to the protection of God and good St. George."
Escorted by the Lords D'Eyncourt and Ogle, Queen Philippa retired to a short distance to witness the engagement, and the English, with banners flying, moved forward in the direction of Merrington, and, halting on the rising ground, could plainly descry the movements of the Scots on the hills to the west.
Here the chiefs paused to consider their position, and hesitated whether they should advance on the Scots or await the attack of their foes on the ground they occupied; but, as the marshals and standard-bearers continued to move slowly forward, the army insensibly followed, and in this way, without arriving at any decision, they reached Ferryhill.