When in 1424 James I., after his long captivity in England, took over the government of Scotland, his energies were mainly directed to internal reform, though he made in 1436 a fruitless attempt to recover Roxburgh. James II. attacked Berwick in 1455, and raided the Border next year. In 1460 Roxburgh was recovered, though James himself was killed by a bursting cannon. England, involved in the Wars of the Roses, could do little. As the price of assistance rendered to the Lancastrians, Scotland regained Berwick, which was retained until 1482, when Prince Richard, afterwards King Richard III., finally recovered it for England.

For thirty years thereafter a precarious peace subsisted between the two kingdoms, but dread and dislike of England were always strong in Scotland, which was also more or less attached to England’s old enemy, France. James IV. interfered in the cause of the adventurer Perkin Warbeck in 1497 without effect, and the Earl of Surrey retaliated by a raid. Hostilities were ended by the Peace of Ayton. In 1503 James married Henry VII.’s daughter Margaret.

For ten years the peace subsisted, but the chronic Border feuds were a constant source of trouble. Henry was suspicious of the frequent passage through his realm of Scotsmen proceeding to France. James was busy endeavouring to form a navy, and his captains, Andrew and Robert Barton and Sir Andrew Wood, were often in conflict with English vessels. It was the rule of those days that navy ships must support themselves, and the English, who were often probably little better, regarded the Scots admirals as pirates. There is little doubt that they did occasionally behave as such.

Up to 1511 the peace lasted, though the fierce and resolute Henry VIII. was a more dangerous neighbour than his father. But in August came an event which precipitated hostilities. It appears that Andrew Barton had made prize of English ships, and Lord Edward Howard, High Admiral of England, with his brother Thomas, attacked him as he was cruising in the English Channel. After a fierce struggle Barton was slain, and his two ships, the Lion and the Jennet Perwyn, were taken. James protested, but Henry haughtily declined to treat upon a matter of piracy. Yet it seems that he released the prisoners, and certainly offered to make fair compensation for the unjustifiable actions of Englishmen. In May, 1512, Lord Dacre and Dr. West appeared in Edinburgh, but at the same time came the French Ambassador, De la Motte, with instructions to enlist, if possible, Scotland on the side of France in the impending struggle with England. The wisdom of making a diversion on England’s rear was obvious. James informed Henry that he could consent to no peace which did not include France. De la Motte came and went between Paris and Edinburgh, and supplies of all kinds were sent from France. To James’s romantic nature Queen Anne’s ring and the message to ‘her true knight,’ begging him to invade England for her sake, were perhaps dearer.

On June 30 Henry VIII. crossed to Calais to invade France, and on July 26 James sent Lyon King-at-Arms to declare war. A squadron of thirteen ships, under the Earl of Arran, was sent into the Irish Sea, perhaps to make a diversion by attacking Ireland. This attempt was a failure. A futile attack was made on Carrickfergus, and then the Scottish fleet disappears from the scene.

The whole fighting population of Scotland was ordered to assemble on the Boroughmuir of Edinburgh. To-day the population of England is eight times that of Scotland. In 1801 it was only five and a half times as great, and in 1513 the discrepancy may have been less. Assuming it to have been the same, and taking the population of England at 4,000,000, that of Scotland would be about 700,000, and the number of fighting men perhaps 100,000; but though this is the figure given by Hall, it is unlikely that more than 50,000 took the field. The English chronicler would naturally incline to exaggeration.

Still, the army was the most formidable that Scotland had ever sent forth. Thanks to France, the Lowlanders were well equipped as regards defensive armour. Hall says that the English arrows had less effect than of old. The Highlanders however, as a whole, lacked mail and consequently efficiency; and the Borderers were unstable and turbulent, and attached more importance to pillage than fighting. The grand Lowland foot-spearmen were, as ever, the backbone of the army, but it lacked anything like a proper proportion of archers and arquebusiers. The artillery was largely composed of fine cast pieces, the work of Robert Borthwick, James’s famous master-gunner. It appears to have included some forty guns in all, but there were few trained artillerymen.

To cover his concentration, James ordered a raid into Northumberland under Lord Home, High Chamberlain of Scotland and Warden of all the Marches. Home has gained a bad reputation in the annals of his country, but it would seem that his fault was not treachery, but mere lack of military capacity. He collected a force estimated by the English writers—probably with exaggeration—at 7,000 men, and did much damage; but on his retreat he was overtaken by a small English force under Sir William Bulmer at Milfield-on-Till, and routed with a loss of 1,000 men.

Henry, to use Hall’s quaint language, had not forgotten ‘y^e olde pranks of y^e Scottes,’ and had made dispositions for the adequate defence of the realm during his absence. His general in the north was Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, Lord Treasurer and High Marshal of England, a veteran nearly seventy years of age, who had fought for Richard III. at Bosworth, but had become reconciled to the new conditions and commanded against James sixteen years before. Henry was undoubtedly wise in leaving him to watch over England, but the old warrior himself was disappointed at losing a chance of distinguishing himself in France. He grumbled in good English fashion, and growled that, if James did invade, he should meet more than he had bargained for. ‘Sory may I se hym or I dye that is the cause of mye abydynge behynde, and if ever hee and I mete, I shall doe that inne mee lyeth to make hyme as sory if I canne.’ In July, as the danger became more imminent, he established himself at Pontefract to organize the defence of the north. The efficacy of his measures is apparent in the remarkable rapidity of his concentration.

On August 22 the Scottish army occupied Twisel, and on the following day began the siege of Norham, which had often defied the strength of Scotland in bygone days. But James brought his guns to bear upon the walls, and breaches soon began to appear. The garrison fought desperately and repelled three assaults, but, in the effort to keep down the Scottish cannonade, rapidly expended their stock of ammunition. On the 29th, without further means of defence, the castle surrendered. This was a considerable success for James, and was improved by the capture of Etal and Ford Castles. The next object of attack would probably have been Berwick, but already the English Army of the North was on the way. James therefore took up a strong position west of the Till, and awaited attack, his own quarters being for some days at Ford. Round this latter circumstance has gathered the time-honoured but baseless legend that he wasted weeks in dalliance with Lady Heron.

Surrey heard of the Scottish advance on August 25, and promptly ordered his forces to assemble at Newcastle. He directed his son Thomas, who commanded the fleet on the coast, to join him with his marines. On September 1 he advanced, but the weather was so bad that not until the 3rd did he reach Alnwick, where he halted to close up. On the 4th the Admiral joined with 1,000 men. The army was now 26,000 strong.

Surrey organized his force in two corps. The Vanguard was commanded by the Admiral, who led his main body in person, with his brother Edmund in charge of his right wing and the venerable Sir Marmaduke ConstableG leading his left. The Rearguard was under Surrey’s personal control. Lord Dacre led its right wing, composed mainly of Border horsemen; and Sir Edward Stanley its left, consisting chiefly of the fine archers of Lancashire and Cheshire. The artillery train was under Sir Nicholas Appleyard. For the last time the famous banner of St. Cuthbert was carried into action.

On September 6 Surrey reached Wooler, ‘three lytel miles, from the King of Scots,’ says Hall. Counting upon James’s reputation for rash chivalry, he sent him a formal challenge to fight on the 9th. The Admiral added a provocative message of his own, informing James that he was there in person to answer for the death of Barton. All this ‘quarrelling by the book’ was quite in the style of the times, a fact which Mr. Andrew Lang and other modern writers who have commented upon the ‘insolence’ of the Howards, appear to have forgotten.

The Scots were encamped upon a mass of hilly ground lying three miles above the junction of the Glen with the Till. The southern portion of this mass is roughly circular at the base, from two to three miles across in every direction and 700 feet high. On the north and north-east it sinks somewhat sharply 400 feet to a valley, across which a saddleback runs to a second mass, roughly quadrangular, nearly four miles long and two in breadth. The western portion is 800 feet high; Barley Hill, the southern spur, is 582; Flodden Edge, on the north-east, overlooking the Till, is 509. The northern spur is called Branxton Hill; it drops from 500 feet to 227 feet at Branxton Church, just below.

If only three miles separated the armies, the Scots must have been stationed on the southern mass, between Milfield and Kirknewton. The artillery was at the foot of the slope. On the 7th there was a distant cannonade, but no further fighting. The Scottish position was far too strong to be attacked. On the 8th, therefore, Surrey moved to his right across the Till to Barmoor. He was, so Hall says, only two miles from the Scottish front. This must mean that the English outposts on the ridge between Ford and Doddington were about two miles from the Till. The English main army, however, was behind the ridge, out of view of the Scots.

From the ridge—perhaps the part above Fordwood—Surrey and his son reconnoitred James’s position. Holinshed says that it was the Admiral who advised his father to make a turning movement across Twisel Bridge, and so plant himself on the Scottish communications. Hall, who is very detailed as to the Admiral’s doings, does not say so; in any case, the decision rested with Surrey. The momentous resolution was taken, and at daybreak the English army marched for Twisel.

The Scots committed a fatal blunder in leaving Twisel Bridge unguarded. It can, of course, be said for them that strategy so bold as that of Surrey was almost unheard of in mediÆval warfare. But there does not appear to have been a picket at the bridge, nor does any attempt seem to have been made to keep in touch with the English army by means of the light Border moss-troopers. Either the Scottish leaders were incapable of penetrating a skilful but hazardous design, or the Borderers were surprisingly useless for scouting.

From Barmoor to Twisel Bridge is about nine miles. Wet weather had rendered the tracks very difficult, and progress was doubtless slow. Hall also says that the English were starving, but this statement cannot be accepted; the vigour with which they acted sufficiently disproves it. The bridge was found unguarded, and the Vanguard began to stream across. The artillery train followed. The Rearguard appears to have crossed chiefly by Mill Ford, a mile above Twisel. As the armies were not in contact until about 4 p.m., it cannot be doubted that the passage was not detected by the Scots until after midday.

The Scottish army was probably watching the line of the Till above Ford, with its artillery at the foot of its strong position. Its order of battle can only be surmised. The common idea that it was ill supplied seems to be baseless; the Bishop of Durham, who had means of knowing, stated that the Scottish camps were full of provisions. France had sent shiploads of supplies, and the army had only been eighteen days in the field. Assuming that James had commenced the campaign with 50,000 men, he must still have had 40,000 at least.

The Scottish scouts appear to have interpreted the English movement as a counter-invasion of Scotland, and so it was reported to James. Tents were hurriedly struck and parked, and the unwieldy host proceeded to change front to the north. The varied and undisciplined character of the Scottish army must have rendered the complicated manoeuvre slow and difficult. It is possible that James intended to recross the Tweed at Coldstream in order to deal with the supposed invasion. On the other hand, it is probable that Surrey hoped to encamp for the night on Branxton Hill, and not to engage until next day.

About 3.30 p.m. the English Vanguard was passing Branxton Church. The Scots were still scattered over the upland in five great masses, three of which were moving over Branxton Hill. A division under Lords Home and Huntly was leading on the left; next came another under the Earls of Crawford and Montrose. On its right rear was the centre, under King James, with Lord Sinclair in command of the artillery. The Earl of Bothwell’s division, and the Highlanders under the Earls of Lennox and Argyll, were still far behind. The English order of battle has already been given. There was a considerable interval between the Vanguard and Rearguard. The artillery was with the Vanguard.

James, seeing from the heights the English passing Branxton, ordered the rubbish in the camps to be fired, that the acrid smoke, borne on the south-west breeze, might drive in the face of the foe, and under cover of it the three Scottish divisions began to advance. Probably the smoke confused them as well; it must have put the English on the alert. Still, the silent advance was to some extent a surprise. As the English van reached the Branxton brook the smoke cleared away, and they saw the Scottish ‘battles’ bristling with pikes in their front. The peril was imminent. Taking the Agnus Dei from his neck, Lord Thomas sent it to his father, begging him to hasten into line, and hurriedly fronted up the Vanguard. The artillery, coming into action on the left, pounded furiously at the Scots pouring down the hill.

Howard’s bold show had good effects. James halted to allow his guns to come into action, but Borthwick’s beautiful pieces, worked by ill-trained gunners, and badly placed on a slippery hillside, were rapidly silenced or dismounted. Lord Sinclair was slain directing his batteries, and the English guns soon gained the complete mastery. Then Surrey hurried into line with his son, and James’s great opportunity was gone. The English main-battle closed up on the Admiral and Constable; Dacre took post behind Howard; Sir Edward Stanley was hurrying to form on Surrey’s left. The English fire was directed with deadly effect on the heavy masses of the Scottish centre; the Scottish artillery was almost all out of action. Much has been said of the rashness of the Scots in charging, but in truth there was little alternative.

At first, all went well for Scotland. Home and Huntly bore down on Edmund Howard’s division, while Crawford and Montrose charged the Admiral. The two English divisions became separated from one another, and Lord Edmund’s was completely broken and scattered, though he himself cut his way through a body of Homes,H who endeavoured to stay him, and joined his brother. The success of Home and Huntly was locally complete; but they could not control their undisciplined followers, many of whom scattered to plunder. Dacre hurried up his reserves, and, though his Bamboroughshire and Tynemouth troops wavered and broke, succeeded in checking the Chamberlain’s advance, and kept him at bay throughout the battle.

The Scottish centre, moving down the hill, was met with a hail of cannon-balls and arrows, but the sturdy yeomen came on with the finest spirit, doffing their shoes to obtain firmer footing, never halting or wavering. They closed upon the English centre, despite its heavy fire, and under the weight and impetus of the charge it was forced backward. But it was not broken, and the fight raged fiercely along the line, James and his picked troops making repeated and desperate attempts to pierce the stubborn English front. The non-arrival of Bothwell and the Highlanders left James’s right entirely uncovered, and Sir Edward Stanley, coming up from the Mill Ford, was directed against it. His left reached the crown of Branxton Hill without meeting any foe, but before he could develop his attack he was charged by the Highlanders, who had at last arrived, while Bothwell passed behind them down the slope to support the King.

It was bow against claymore. Again and again the wild Highlanders, stripped to their shirts after their fashion, ‘like wave with crest of sparkling foam,’ hurled themselves with fiery impulse upon Stanley’s division—in vain. Their desperate courage availed nothing against the deadly arrow flight of the best archers of England and, after both their earls had fallen, they broke and fled westward over the space on which the Scottish centre had stood, leaving the hillside heaped with slain.

Somewhere about the same time, as it would seem, the Admiral had succeeded in breaking the division of Crawford and Montrose; the earls had fallen, and their followers were streaming away to the rear, and becoming intermingled with the fleeing Highlanders. The sight of the crowd of fugitives cannot but have had a fatal effect upon such troops as Home and Huntly had succeeded in keeping together. Howard turned the bulk of his victorious division against the uncovered left of the Scots’ centre, while Stanley wheeled round upon its right and rear.

These movements decided the battle. The Scottish centre and Bothwell’s division were probably equal in number to the troops that assailed them; but they were practically surrounded, destitute of artillery, and with few arquebusiers and archers to respond to the steady fire from the English guns, matchlocks, and bows, while the unwieldy dimensions and density of their defensive formation made manoeuvring impossible. Possibly the mass made endeavours to move to its left, but for all practical purposes it was stationary, and nothing was left to the gallant spearmen but to fight to the last. King James was in the front rank, and so long as he lived he never ceased to lead desperate attempts to break the English line. If he was no general, at least he wielded his ‘vain knight-errant’s brand’ as became a king. Wounded again and again, he was slain at last, within a few yards of where his aged opponent sat in his chariotI directing the battle. Still his followers fought on desperately. Scott has told the story of their great stand in glowing verse. The last stages of the battle must have taken place in ever-growing gloom, and when there was no longer light to direct the charges Surrey drew off his troops. Under cover of night the Scottish centre, shattered and broken, but unconquered still, struggled away to Coldstream and so across Tweed, to tell Scotland the story of disaster.

The English passed the night in bivouac on the field. All around the Borderers of both armies were plundering indiscriminately, stripping the dead, and committing, doubtless, nameless atrocities. They impartially made prize of Surrey’s tents and baggage and the Scottish artillery oxen, for want of which nearly the whole train had to be abandoned. When morning came it was seen that the Scots’ centre had disappeared. Home had got some of his troops in hand again, and was in line towards the west, perhaps covering the retreat of the centre. His demoralized and half-hearted men were scattered by artillery fire, and drifted away across Tweed; and then Surrey could take stock of his victory. On the slope of Branxton Hill the victors found dead the King of Scots, his natural son Alexander, Archbishop of St. Andrews, two bishops, two mitred abbots, twelve earls, fourteen lords, and hundreds of scions of every noble house in Scotland. The whole Scottish loss can hardly have been less than 10,000; the unmailed Highlanders had been mown down in thousands. The English superiority in troops armed with missile weapons must have had terrible results; and it should be remembered that as a rule quarter was neither asked for nor given. The English put their own losses as low as 1,500. Except in Edmund Howard’s division, they must have been far lower in proportion than those of the Scots; perhaps 4,000 in all is a fair estimate. Prisoners in such a conflict could not have been numerous; the only definite record is that of about sixty taken by the Scottish left wing. Surrey took possession of nearly all the Scottish artillery: five ‘great drakes’ (? 24-pounders), seven ‘great culverins’ (18-pounders), four ‘sakers’ (5-pounders), and six ‘serpentines’ (? 4-pounders)—all beautiful brass pieces wrought by Borthwick’s skilled hand—besides light guns.J

So ended the Battle of Flodden. On the Scots’ side it was a magnificent display of fruitless courage, very little aided by military skill. On the part of England, all the commanders on the field worked together as one man to gain the victory; and though some of the hasty county levies showed unsteadiness, on the whole they admirably seconded their leaders. The boldness of Surrey’s strategy is remarkable in such an aged man. Napoleon was emphatically of opinion that military leaders lose their boldness with advancing age. Tried by this standard, the only modern leader who can challenge comparison with Surrey is SuvÓrov, whose greatest triumphs were gained when he was almost seventy.

In Scotland the tendency has been to throw the blame for the catastrophe upon Lord Home. That his Borderers and Huntly’s Highlanders largely dispersed after their successful charge is no doubt true; but seeing how entirely unstable and unreliable they always were in battle, the chiefs can hardly be blamed. After Flodden Home became a partisan of the English alliance, and has therefore been condemned by many writers who regard his action from a narrowly patriotic standpoint. He was clearly not a man of military ability, but there is no reason to doubt that he did his duty. Lord Dacre’s letter to his Government, dated May 17, 1514, effectually disposes of the idea that Home looked on at the defeat of the Scottish centre and right. It was unfortunate for him that he survived the battle only to be put out of the way by the Regent Albany three years later.

Flodden as regards the courage displayed on the field was honourable to both nations. In a sense it was a decisive battle, for it seems to have brought home to public opinion in Scotland that the country might do better than sacrifice itself for France. There were no more great invasions of England. In 1522, and again in the following year, the Scottish nobles refused point-blank to cross the Border against England. But James V. was still disposed to adhere to the French alliance, and Henry VIII.’s somewhat truculent diplomacy did not tend to improve matters. With brief intervals of truce, the weary Border warfare went on for many years. James’s marriage to Marie de Lorraine in 1538 accentuated his leaning to France. In 1542, in order to make a diversion in favour of FranÇois I., James drifted into open war. A small English force invaded Scotland, but was badly beaten at Haddon Rigg in Teviotdale. A larger expedition under the Duke of Norfolk (the Admiral of Flodden) was more successful, but had no great results.

To cope with Norfolk, James collected a large army on Fala Muir. Finding that Norfolk had already retired, he would have invaded England; but once more the nobles declined to rush into disaster for the sake of France. Bitterly mortified, James fell back on the assistance of the great Churchmen, upon whom his Gallicizing policy chiefly depended, and raised a new army, variously estimated at from 10,000 to 18,000 men strong. On November 24 it crossed the Border north of Carlisle. The result was the disaster of Solway Moss, the most melancholy affair in Scottish military annals.

James himself did not accompany his army, but remained at Lochmaben. It was thus without a responsible commander, and not apparently until the last moment was it announced that the King’s choice was Sir Oliver Sinclair, Standard-Bearer of Scotland. The effect was disastrous. The nobles present were exasperated at being placed under a mere knight, whose only distinction was that he was his master’s favourite, and the army became an incoherent mass of ill-disciplined contingents without a responsible head. In this condition the Scots were attacked by the English. Sir Thomas Wharton, Deputy-Warden of the Western Marches, had collected 3,000 men at Carlisle; and informed by Thomas, a bastard Dacre, and ‘Jacke’ of Musgrave, of the state of the Scots, advanced against them.

The demoralized Scottish force was in a very dangerous position. Some miles behind them were the Esk and the dangerous bogs of Solway Moss. Their van was charged by a detachment of English cavalry and thrown into disorder, and then the whole army, as it seems, began to retreat in a huddled mass to the Esk. In vain the nobles present endeavoured to rally their followers, and dismounted to set them an example. ‘In a shake all the way,’ the demoralized Scots crowded back towards the only point of passage across the Esk, a narrow ford near the hill of Arthuret. The confusion grew worse and worse: prisoners were taken and men lost in the marshes. At the ford every trace of order was lost, and the English, making a final charge, thrust the army into the river and Solway Moss. The rout was piteous. Only twenty men are said to have been slain in fight, but hundreds were drowned and suffocated in the bogs; and 1,200 prisoners taken, including the unfortunate Sinclair, two earls, five barons, and hundreds of gentlemen. Twenty-four cannon, the Royal Standard of Scotland, and all the Scots’ baggage fell into the hands of the victors. Solway Moss was the cause of the premature death of James V., and more than ever must have convinced the Scots that the French alliance was the ruin of the country. But the blundering violence of England roused the spirit of the nation, and repeated harryings of Lothian and the disastrous defeat of Pinkie only fired its stubborn pride. For thirty years, thanks to the blunders of her rulers, England was still to have Scotland as a potential enemy. But after 1550 hostilities practically ceased, and the growing strength of Protestantism in Scotland drew the two countries slowly together. The Border disturbances gradually died down; the presence of French mercenaries taught the Scottish Protestants that French domination was more to be feared than that of England. After the expulsion of Mary, a succession of rulers worked steadily towards a closer friendship with England, and when the last and greatest of the Tudors ended her life, the sceptre which she had wielded so well passed quietly to the King of Scotland.

While the Scottish invasions were a perpetual menace to the peace of the North, they cannot be said, in the slightest degree, to have really threatened the national stability. Man for man, Scot and Englishman were well matched, and in minor frays, in which individual and reckless courage counted for much, the honours were fairly divided. In the great invasions the political and economic conditions in Scotland were never sufficiently favourable to allow of the formation of a properly organized and equipped army large enough to make a serious impression. The most effective Scottish invasions were those of Robert Bruce, but the most dangerous of these only penetrated as far as York. After Halidon Hill had taught the English generals what an effective weapon they possessed in their archery, they never hesitated to give battle, however great might be the odds against them.