After the tragedy of Earl Lancaster’s revolt had been concluded by the wholesale executions of the barons and knights implicated in that misguided movement, the Scots, commanded by Randolph, Earl of Moray, invaded the Western marches, and ravaged the country in their customary barbarous style, slaying all who attempted resistance, and driving before them all the flocks and herds that their swift and well-organised cavalry could collect. What they could not carry away they burnt, returning to Scotland without having received a check in the field. Where they had passed, the summer sun gleamed brightly on ruined cots and devastated fields, and the English peasantry, inured to toil and suffering, gazed despairingly upon the ruin of the fruit of the soil, fostered by their hard labour, and by the sun and rain of the departed months.

While the Scots were acting Edward of CÆrnarvon was preparing to take the field. Referring to the English monarch’s victory at Boroughbridge, Sir Walter Scott makes the following reflections:—“This gleam of success on his arms, which had been sorely tarnished, seems to have filled Edward, who was of a sanguine and buoyant temperament, with dreams of conquest over all his enemies. As a king never stands more securely than on the ruins of a discovered and suppressed conspiracy, he wrote to the pope to give himself no further solicitude to procure a truce or peace with the Scots, since he had determined to bring them to reason by force.”

Edward spared no pains to ensure the success of the expedition into Scotland, and Parliament authorised military levies in the country to the extent of one man from every English hamlet and village, and a proportionate number from the towns and cities. Subsidies of money were largely granted, and enabled Edward to obtain supplies of arms and provisions from over seas, besides reinforcing his army with soldiers from Aquitaine.

The Scottish monarch timed his movements, and organised his plans to check the English advance, with his customary foresight and energy; and although the cruel slaughter of so many of his nearest relatives and dearest friends might well have steeled his heart against the English, we are bound to admit that his repeated devastations of the Northumbrian provinces were of incalculable service in protecting Scotland from hostile attacks, although they might and did excite the English to cross the border in expeditions organised for the purpose of revenge.

Bruce never wanted for an army to invade England—an army that repaid its toils by the plunder of the enemy, and this is clearly illustrated by the campaign that ended with the battle of Byland Abbey; while Edward was spending months in raising an army, taxing the people, and making forced levies, drawing supplies of men and munitions from his continental provinces, Bruce had but to raise his standard, when a numerous army followed him, to win the reguerdon of their toil with sword and spear from the fertile English provinces.

King Robert dared not risk the liberties of Scotland by meeting the powerful hosts of England, with their deadly archers, in the open field, and his plan of defence was therefore to devastate the English borders with fire and sword, to the farthest practicable limit, and to drive all the flocks and herds on the Scottish border far inland, wasting the country as far as the Firth of Forth.

As soon as Moray had performed his raid on the West marches, he was instructed to join his forces with those of Douglas, and cross the borders in a more easterly direction, while King Robert penetrated into Lancashire through the Western marches. The expedition commenced on the 1st of July, and was concluded on the 24th, when the Scotch army re-entered Scotland in triumph, with numerous waggons heavily laden with the plunder of the English. The vale of Furness had been the scene of their triumphant march, and they left it utterly desolated; barns, stacks and ricks, and fields of ripening grain had been given to the flames, or trampled under foot.

The unhappy peasantry, abandoning their rude cots, sought such refuge as the woods and wilds afforded, or haply took shelter in the nearest walled town. Men-at-arms and burghers took spear and bow in hand, made fast their gates, and kept careful watch lest the enemy should burst upon them with fire and sword some dreadful night. The wasted country gleamed with the light of burning villages, and many a rude border-fortress was taken by assault before King Edward headed his warriors and marched northward with his mail-clad barons and stout yeomen.

The wary Scots waited not for the approach of the splendid army that marched behind the banners of the unfortunate Edward of CÆrnarvon; although the English warriors were animated by an intense desire to avenge their wrongs, and not a monarch in Christendom but might have quailed at the prospect of joining battle with them, yet all their high courage and warlike accomplishments failed to serve them in their contest with the Bruce.

Pressing onward, rank after rank, squadron after squadron, with the glitter of thousands of lances, pikes, and bills, and with hundreds of banners floating on the breeze, the warriors of King Edward found neither foes to fight nor plunder to repay their toil, but “a land of desolation, which famine seemed to guard.” The transport of stores for so large an army was attended with extreme toil and difficulty, for the wasted soil would not even afford forage for the English horses. The English captains, hoping that by some chance the enemy might be brought to an engagement, resolutely maintained their advance, and the patient soldiers held on their way, in spite of increasing difficulties and dangers. It was the month of August, and the fatigue of the heavily armed troops must have been excessive. At length the toil-worn army reached the capital, but without any amelioration of their condition, or the prospect of an engagement. The sole spoil between England and Edinburgh was one lame bull. Well might Earl Warenne declare, “By my faith, I never saw dearer beef.” A fleet with supplies was expected in the firth, but it was detained by adverse winds, and after vainly waiting for three days, during which the troops began to experience the pangs of hunger, Edward reluctantly commanded the retreat to commence. They knew that Bruce had massed his army at Culross, and was keeping them under observation, but it was impossible to get within sight of the Scottish army, or to force an engagement. In their retreat the suffering and enraged soldiery burst into the convents of Dryburgh and Melrose, from which all but a few aged and infirm monks had retired: these unfortunates they put to the sword, defiled the sanctuaries, and carried off the consecrated vessels.

Bruce was now following hard and fast on the track of the retreating army, alert to seize every advantage, and anxious to secure the safety of his kingdom by inflicting a crushing blow upon his enemy. The English soldiery were harassed by being kept continually on the alert, and by the scarcity of provisions, but their greatest disaster awaited them on their native soil. Travel-wasted and famine-stricken they entered England, and were liberally supplied with food from the principal magazines in the north. Partaking with the impatient avidity of starving men, they sickened in great numbers, and in a few days 16,000 were carried off by inflammation of the bowels; and of the sick who recovered, few were ever again fit for service in the field.

To avert further disasters, and renew the strength and spirit of the survivors, the King formed a camp at Byland Abbey, some fourteen miles from York; and there the sorely-tried and weary soldiers found a temporary rest, and again enjoyed sufficient supplies of wholesome food.

The position was extremely strong, and under ordinary circumstances might perhaps have been considered unassailable when held by English archers and men-at-arms. It was a country of rocks and woods, where deep ravines cleft the rocks, and formed huge cliffs, easy of defence. The soldiers were judiciously posted on the elevated ground surrounding the abbey, a steep ridge very difficult to scale, the pass to which was narrow and easily defended by veteran soldiers. The exact ground that was held cannot now be ascertained; it was certainly an elevated ridge, and very probably that now known as the Old Stead Bank, at one end of which is a piece of land called “Scot’s corner.” If this is the scene of the conflict, it took place about a mile and a half to the north-west of the abbey. Doubtless the royal troops were still demoralised by the mortifying results of the campaign, disheartened by their losses, and weakened and dejected by their sufferings.

King Robert’s troops were largely mounted on small and active ponies, which enabled them to follow fast upon the tracks of the English. Crossing the Tweed, he attempted to carry Norham Castle, but failed, and directed his march towards Byland Abbey, for he had intelligence that the English army had there formed their camp. By a forced march he appeared in front of the English, to their great surprise. No doubt Bruce inferred that the English had lost all heart, for Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt were then unfought, and the world knew little of what the indomitable British spirit could endure, when great and esteemed captains animated the warriors to the conflict. Edward II. was neither great nor fortunate in arms, and was dining in the abbey, attended by his principal officers, when the Scots appeared and commenced the attack.

It was the 14th day of October, and the Scots commenced the conflict by a desperate attempt to carry the pass that was the key to the English position. Earls Pembroke and Richmond were there, however, directing the defence, and, although taken by surprise, the English soldiers made good their position with great courage. The pikemen held the crest of the rock in solid formation, ready to charge should the Scots force the pass, and bear them down again: the archers swept the front of the position with showers of arrows, and huge masses of rock were hurled upon the advancing enemy. The terrible Scottish infantry swept on with their long spears and heavy bills and claymores, and a hot encounter ensued. The Scots were so roughly handled, and the position was so strong, that Bruce despaired of winning it by storming the pass. To Douglas was appointed the arduous duty of continuing the conflict, Randolph, with four squires, fighting under his command, as volunteers. The English advanced post that defended the ascent of the cliff was commanded by Sir Thomas Ughtred and Sir Ralph Cobham—two gallant English knights who acquitted themselves nobly. There was great bloodshed, and hard fighting for some time. Bruce, who fully realised the position, headed a chosen band of Highlanders, active and daring men, and resolved to attempt to take the English in the rear, for closely engaged with the furious attacks of Douglas, and probably believing the natural defence sufficient for their protection, the English had neglected to post their troops in such a position as would secure them in case of a rear attack being made. Bruce seems to have realised the necessity of his attack being too sudden and secret to admit of defensive measures being taken, and, making a circuit, his Highlanders quickly and noiselessly scaled the high rocks in flank and rear of the English army. What followed may be easily imagined. The charge of the Highlanders was resistless, and being unexpected, a dreadful scene of slaughter and panic ensued. Vainly the English sought to close in, and meet the foe that burst upon rear and flank: this diversion naturally distracted the attention of the troops who supported the attacks of Douglas and Randolph, and those hardy warriors forcing the pass won the heights, where a terrible conflict was going on, the English troops breaking away, and taking to flight whenever the opportunity offered. Good men were there, although the panic-stricken fled, and many fell on that corpse-encumbered and blood-stained ridge, fighting at close quarters, and dying in their tracks. The bravest were cut down, and those that could escape the toils took to hurried flight. The battle was soon over; not so the pursuit. Great was the slaughter that ensued, but the actual loss of life is not chronicled.

So unexpected and complete was the victory of the Scots, that Edward was utterly incapable of making an attempt to rally his troops, or effect any orderly retreat. Mounting a swift horse, he directed his flight to York with all conceivable speed, leaving behind him his plate, money, and treasure, and even the privy seal. Walter Stewart followed hard after him with 500 horse, and had it not been for the swiftness of the royal steed, in all probability England would have undergone the humiliation of having her monarch borne a prisoner from her own soil by the invaders. As it was, the Scottish warrior could ill brook the loss of the intended prize, and he lingered before the walls of York with his slender force of men-at-arms until the shades of evening began to close over the scene; but so dejected and dispirited were the royal troops that they tamely submitted to the affront, although in sufficient numbers to have swept away the stout riders of Stewart. The Despensers succeeded in effecting their escape from the scene of confusion and bloodshed, and the day after the battle accompanied the King to Bridlington. With them went the Earl of Kent, John de Cromwell, and John de Ross.

Many Englishmen had taken refuge in the Abbey of Rivaulx when the struggle became too obviously hopeless; and among the knights and nobles who there surrendered their swords to the Scots were the Earl of Richmond, and Sir Henry de Sully. The prisoners were treated with the greatest courtesy, being simply regarded as chivalrous warriors doing their devoir in the field; but the Earl of Richmond had expressed himself in most disrespectful terms against the Bruce, and to show his opinion of such ungentle behaviour King Robert ordered the earl to be closely confined.

On the 22nd of October the Scottish army returned to their own country, laden with spoil, including £400 exacted for the ransom of Beverley: they left behind them a ravaged and ruined country.

Andrew de Harcla for some reason or other had failed to join King Edward with his levies, but, halting near Boroughbridge, had wasted the country. This was a suspicious circumstance, and was openly commented upon, with the implication that he had entered into a league with the Scots, and would not act against them. It was in the last days of the year that these grave charges were brought before the royal notice, when the earl’s arrest was immediately ordered.

Surrounded by his retainers, and occupying the strong fortress of Carlisle, the earl might have successfully resisted the King’s arms until an opportunity of effecting his escape into Scotland offered; and Lord Lucy, who put the royal orders into execution, resorted to strategy rather than force.

Attended by Sir Hugh de Moriceby, Sir Richard de Denton, Sir Hugh de Lowther, four squires, and a small party of soldiers, Lord Lucy entered Carlisle Castle, with as little ostentation as possible, his soldiers dispersing, to re-assemble in small parties near the gates. Lord Lucy and his knights then sought the presence of de Harcla, and demanded his instant surrender, with the option of defending himself against their attack. The Earl declined to defend himself against the four warriors, but as he was being carried off a cry of treason was raised, and the keeper of the inner ward, making a movement to close the gate, was immediately slain by Sir Richard de Denton. At the same moment Lord Lucy’s soldiers seized the gates, and the Earl’s doom was virtually sealed. He was tried before the chief justiciary, Jeffrey de Scroop, and was sentenced to degradation and death; being found guilty of having entered into a treasonable undertaking with King Robert, to whom he guaranteed the crown of Scotland in return for services to be rendered in England—no doubt embracing the destruction of the royal favourites, the Despensers.

It is difficult to believe that Harcla would enter into so dubious an undertaking, so soon after the failure of the powerful Earl of Lancaster. If he had acted as the agent of the Barons, we may believe that some particulars of the confederation would have been elicited during his trial. The statement that he summoned the principal inhabitants of Cumberland to meet him at Carlisle, informed them that he had entered into a treaty with the King of Scotland, and succeeded in obtaining their support, is scarcely to be credited. The Earl is generally regarded as the scapegoat who bore the sins of Byland Battle to the block. Degraded from his nobility, despoiled of the insignia of his knightly merit, the unfortunate man was conducted to the scaffold at Carlisle on the 2nd of March, 1322, and there executed.

Edward was induced by this final disaster to give more serious attention to negotiations for peace. Henry de Sully, the French knight, used his influence to bring the two monarchs to an understanding, and a preliminary truce was agreed to at Thorpe, and finally a truce for thirteen years was ratified by Robert Bruce, King of Scotland, and Edward the II. of England, at Berwick, on the 7th of June, 1323; a merciful peace after such long and bloody strife, and for which the name of Henry de Sully deserves to be held in honourable remembrance.