As far back as December 23, Edward II. had summoned his army to assemble at Berwick on June 10, 1314, for the war against Scotland. In March, he was busily ordering his fleet for service on the east and west coasts, and hastening the muster of the Irish contingent under the Lord of Ulster. On May 27, from New Abbey, he issued an urgent reminder to the sheriffs and barons of the northern and midland counties to have their men at Wark by June 10. He has learnt, he tells them, that the Scots are massing great numbers of foot in strong positions protected by marshes and all but inaccessible to cavalry; and he fires their zeal by informing them of the agreement of Mowbray to surrender the castle of Stirling unless the siege be raised by midsummer day. Bruce, then, had already chosen his ground, and commenced his measures of defence.

The English and Welsh troops summoned on May 27, numbered together 21,540. The numbers of the Irish contingent are not preserved, but, on analogous cases, they can hardly be reckoned beyond 3000. The Gascons, Hainaulters, and other foreigners are not likely to have numbered more than the Irish. 'After allowing,' with Mr Bain, '10,000 light horsemen and 3000 heavy cavalry, the whole English army probably did not exceed 50,000'—at the very outside. The Earls of Lancaster, Warenne, Arundel, and Warwick did not join the expedition, on the ostensible ground that the King had not first consulted Parliament in conformity with the Ordinances, and thus they would be laid open to ecclesiastical censure; but they sent their feudal services. The outfit of the army was on the most ample, not to say magnificent, scale. 'The multitude of waggons, if extended one after another in file,' says the Monk of Malmesbury, 'would have stretched over twenty leagues.' In truth, he says, it was universally acknowledged that 'such an army did not go out of England in our time.' The Monk's testimony lends a sober colour to the assertion of Robert Baston, the Carmelite friar that went to celebrate an English victory and was captured and made to sing the Scottish triumph. 'Never,' he declared, 'was seen a more splendid, noble, or proud English army.'

There is no definite clue to the numbers of the Scots. 'But,' as Mr Bain says, 'in so poor and thinly populated a country, devastated by long war, 15,000 or 16,000 would be a fair estimate of the comrades of Bruce. The Scots, twenty years later, could raise no more for the almost equally important object of relieving Berwick.'

The estimates usually given follow Barbour, who says there were over 100,000 English—enough 'to conquer the whole world'—and some 50,000 Scots, of whom 30,000 were fighting men. No doubt Barbour includes in the English 100,000 the miscellaneous 'pitaille,' or rascalry, that swarmed about the baggage trains of mediÆval armies. But Mr Bain's estimate seems to be as near as the authorities will admit. The proportion of English to Scots was most probably somewhere about three to one.

The army that mustered under Edward was indeed 'very fair and great,' yet, in the eye of the Church—probably enlightened by later events—there was one needful thing lacking. When Edward I. was on the warpath towards Scotland, says the Lanercost chronicler, 'he was wont to visit on his way the saints of England—Thomas of Canterbury, Edmund, Hugh, William, Cuthbert—and to offer them fair oblations, to commend himself to their prayers, and to dispense large gifts to the monasteries and the poor'; but his degenerate son, omitting these pious duties,' came with great pomp and circumstance, took the goods of the monasteries on his route, and, it was stated, did and said some things to the prejudice and injury of the saints,' by reason whereof 'certain religious of England prophesied' that no good would come of the expedition. To the same effect, Robert of Reading records that Edward permitted his troops, on their march, to ravage with violence the patrimony of 'religious' and other churchmen, as if they had been robbers (more prÆdonum). Still the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Durham, rehearsing the long list of Bruce's alleged enormities, officially enjoined all within their jurisdiction to pray for the success of the King's arms, offering an indulgence of forty days in reward of such patriotic piety.

The King was in high spirits over the splendour of his army. Apparently he anticipated an easy and complete triumph. He started from Berwick only a few days before the fateful day of St John. 'From day to day,' says the Monk of Malmesbury, 'he hastened to the place fixed on beforehand, not like a man leading an army to battle, but rather as if he were going on pilgrimage to Compostella. Short was the stay for sleep; shorter still the stay for food; in consequence of which the horses, horsemen, and foot were worn out by labour and fatigue.' On Friday, June 21, the English army lay at Edinburgh; and on Saturday it lay at Falkirk, little more than ten miles from Stirling.

The problem for Bruce was to keep the English out of Stirling till St John's day had passed. In good time he had selected and laid out the inevitable field of battle with military prescience of the first order. He had mustered his forces in the Torwood, in a position commanding the approach to Stirling from the south; and on the morning of Saturday, the 22nd of June, on news of the approach of the English, he marched them to the chosen spot on a plain some two miles south of Stirling within the last large loop of the Bannock Burn, called the New Park—a hunting-ground of the Scots kings. The Park was a piece of firm ground rising on the north and west into the swelling ridges of Coxet Hill near St Ninian's, and Gillies Hill on the left of the Bannock above the bend towards the Forth. Eastwards it fell away into a marshy tract filling the angle of the two rivers and intersected by watercourses. Southwards, too, the hard ground was broken by two morasses—Halbert's Bog and Milton Bog—between the Park and the Bannock. Bruce rested his right wing on the steep bank of the Bannock below Gillies Hill; his left wing stretched away past St Ninian's nearly to the gates of Stirling; his rear was protected by Gillies Hill and the Bannock behind. The English would be compelled to advance either across the Bannock between Parkmill and Beaton's Mill—a breadth of a short mile, free from precipitous banks—to the line of hard ground, with a contracted front, to be immediately divided by the intervening bogs; or else along the line of low and marshy flat between the Park and the Forth. To reduce the superiority of the English cavalry, Bruce had industriously dug pits along the parts of the firm route by which they would probably, if not inevitably advance—pits a foot wide, round, and deep as a man's knee, honeycombing the ground; and these holes he covered loosely with a disguise of brushwood, turf, and grass. He is also said to have inserted in them stakes shod with iron points. Sir Thomas de la Moore mentions long transverse trenches, similarly covered so as to bear men aware of them, but not horses. Later writers add that Bruce strewed the ground with calthrops, or metal spikes, to cripple the English horses. He himself had determined to fight on foot.

Bruce marshalled his troops in four divisions, facing south-eastwards. The van was led by Randolph. The second and third divisions were ranged behind the wings of the van; the former, to the right and resting on the Bannock, led by Sir Edward Bruce, the latter by Walter the Steward ('that then was but a beardless hyne') and Douglas. The rearguard, consisting of the men of Carrick, Argyll, Cantyre and the Isles, was stationed right behind the van at some interval, under the immediate command of Bruce himself. All the divisions could thus be promptly massed on the English whether they should select the higher or the lower line of advance. It was of the very first importance that no detachment of the English should be allowed to outmanoeuvre the main body of the Scots and throw themselves into Stirling; and Randolph, who held the most advanced position, was especially charged to guard against this fatal contingency. The non-combatants retired behind the hill in the rear, afterwards named from them the Gillies' (that is, Servants') Hill.

The dispositions of the English army are not known in certain detail. There is little help in Barbour's statement that it was divided into ten companies of 10,000 each. We know that the van was led by the Earl of Gloucester; and that, if Robert of Reading and the Monk of Malmesbury may be relied on, the appointment of Gloucester was hotly resented by the hereditary constable, the Earl of Hereford. The King's bridle was attended by Sir Aymer de Valence and Sir Giles d'Argentine, the latter of whom was regarded as the third knight in Christendom, and had been released from captivity at Salonica in the end of the preceding year through Edward's urgent representations to the Emperor, and even to the Empress, of Constantinople.

At sunrise on Sunday, June 23—the eve of St John—the Scots heard mass. Bruce then devoted special attention to the pits that were still preparing. After midday—the Scots observed the fast on bread and water—the English were reported to be advancing from the fringe of the Torwood. Bruce issued his final orders. Then he is said to have addressed his men in terms of high resolution, bidding every man depart that was not ready for either alternative—to conquer or to die. Not a man moved from the ranks. More than five centuries later, at Balaclava, 'Men,' cried Sir Colin Campbell, 'you must die where you stand.' 'Ay, ay, Sir Colin, we'll do that,' was the cheery response. Such, too, was the spirit of the same race on the field of Bannockburn.

At this point, according to Barbour, Douglas and Sir Robert de Keith (hereditary marshal) proceeded, by order of Bruce, to reconnoitre the enemy's advance. They returned with such a report of the numbers and equipment of the English as they deemed it prudent to render to Bruce only 'in great privity.' Bruce, however, put a bold face on the situation, and directed them, says Barbour, to spread a depreciatory account of the enemy.

The main body of the English appears to have halted while the leaders should take counsel. But Gloucester, with the vanguard, ignorant of this and ardent for the fray, dashed through the Bannock and advanced on the Park, where Sir Edward Bruce was ready to receive him. King Robert himself was riding in front of Sir Edward's division on a small palfrey, with only a battle-axe in hand. On his basnet, according to Barbour's haberdashery, he wore a hat of jacked leather, surmounted by 'a high crown, in token that he was a king.' Some of the English knights, says the Monk of Malmesbury, rode out between the lines and flung their challenges to the Scots. Sir Henry de Bohun, a knight of the house of Hereford, spurred at Bruce himself, and Bruce, swerving at the critical moment of attack, rose in his stirrups as de Bohun passed and clove his head at a stroke, the shaft of his axe shivering in his hand. It may be remarked incidentally that Gray calls the luckless knight Sir Piers de Mountforth. The Scots pressed forward; the English fell back; but Bruce prudently soon recalled his men from the conflict. The Monk of Malmesbury, however, acknowledges that there was 'sufficiently keen fighting, in which Gloucester was unhorsed.' It is not surprising that the leading Scots remonstrated earnestly with Bruce for exposing himself to such an unequal chance. According to Barbour, he made no answer, only regretting the breaking of his good axe-shaft. There can hardly be any doubt that Bruce took the risk deliberately, in calculated reliance on his dexterity and strength, and not without a judicious eye to the moral effect on both armies. The feat, in any case, damped the ardour of the English and raised the spirit of the Scots.

Almost contemporaneously with the advance of Gloucester, Clifford and Beaumont, with 300 men-at-arms—Gray, whose father rode with them, says 300, while Barbour makes them 800—hurried along the lower ground on the English right towards Stirling. Their evident object, as Barbour says, was to relieve the castle; but the Lanercost chronicler ingenuously explains that it was to prevent the Scots from escaping by flight. Randolph, strangely ill-served by his scouts and by his eyes, if Barbour be right, is said not to have been aware of the movement till he received a sharp message from Bruce (as if Bruce's attention was not fully engaged elsewhere), telling him significantly that a rose had fallen from his chaplet. This is sheer monkish imagination. Gray makes no mention of this incredible inadvertence, but represents Randolph as fired by the news of Bruce's repulse of the English van; and the Lanercost chronicler states that the Scots deliberately allowed the advance of the party. Of course they did; Randolph undoubtedly descried them the moment they debouched on the carse. To do so was no less important than it was for Sir Edward to be ready for Gloucester's onset. The next step for Randolph was to tackle his enemy at the right spot and not elsewhere. With a strong detachment he rapidly traversed the wooded edge of the Park, so as to converge upon the English horsemen at the narrow neck between St Ninian's and the Forth—the only point, in fact, where he could calculate upon holding them without moving his whole division down into the low-lying ground (if even that would have done it), and deranging the order of battle. When they were 'neath the kirk,' he issued from the wood and menaced their further progress.

'Let us retire a little,' said Beaumont; 'let them come; give them the fields.'

'Sir,' remarked Sir Thomas Gray, the elder, 'I suspect if you give them so much now, they will have all only too soon.'

'Why,' rejoined Beaumont tartly, 'if you are afraid you can flee.'

'Sir,' replied Gray, 'it is not for fear that I shall flee this day.'

Whereupon Sir Thomas spurred his steed between Beaumont and Sir William d'Eyncourt and charged the Scots. Randolph, whose men were on foot, instantly threw them into a schiltron, 'like a hedgehog.' D'Eyncourt was slain at the first onset. Gray's horse was speared and he himself was taken prisoner. The horsemen were wholly unable to make the slightest impression on the schiltron: they could not ride down the Scots; they could only cast spears and other missiles into their midst. Occasionally, on the other hand, a Scot would leap out from the ranks and strike down horse or rider. Douglas, seeing the Scots surrounded, entreated Bruce to permit him to go to Randolph's aid. Bruce, however, sternly refused to disorder his array, but at last yielded to his importunity. The temporary absence of Douglas and a small party could not really matter at the moment, and it was wise to make doubly sure of the vital object dependent on Randolph's defence. On getting near, however, and perceiving that Randolph was holding his own, Douglas chivalrously halted his men. But his appearance was not without effect upon the English party. They gave up the contest. The movement had completely failed. Some of them straggled to Stirling Castle; the main body of the survivors fled back the way they had come; and Randolph returned in triumph. It may be, as Barbour says, that Bruce used the occasion to deliver to his men another rousing address. At any rate he had gained a marked success in each of the operations of the day.

Though Gloucester had retired, apparently he did not withdraw beyond the Bannock, but encamped for the night along the north bank. According to the unanimous testimony of the chroniclers, the English host was struck with serious discouragement. It may have been, as Barbour says, that they talked in groups disconsolately and forebodingly, and that the encouragement of the leaders predicting victory in the great battle on the morrow failed to shake off their depression. Still there was activity in the vanguard camp. Barbour says that at night efforts were made to render bad parts of the low-lying land in the angle of the rivers passable, and even that aid in this work was furnished by the Stirling garrison. According to the Malmesbury chronicler, the English anticipated attack in the night; and Gray states that they lay under arms, their horses being ready bridled. Bruce, however, had resolutely restricted himself to the tactics of defence; but the anticipation was a natural one enough. Some of the men, very probably, sought artificial means of consolation and courage. Sir Thomas de la Moore, following Baston, pictures the English camp as a lamentable and unwonted scene of drunkenness, men 'shouting "Wassail" and "Drinkhail" beyond ordinary'; and he sets forth, in forcible contrast, the quiet self-restraint and patriotic confidence of the Scots.

In all the circumstances, it would seem an inexplicable thing that the Scots should have been on the point of retiring in the night and making for the fastnesses of the Lennox. Yet Gray records that such was their intention. Sir Alexander de Seton, he says, came secretly from the English host to Bruce, and told him that they had lost heart, and would certainly give way before a vigorous onset next day; whereupon Bruce changed his plans and braced himself to fight on the morrow. The Scots had, indeed, 'done enough for the day,' but they had not done enough for the occasion. Stirling Castle might yet be relieved. It is likely enough that Seton visited Bruce, and that there were weak-kneed warriors in Bruce's lines; but that the matter of the interview is correctly reported by Gray seems absolutely incredible.

On the morning of St John's day, June 24, the Scots heard mass at sunrise, broke their fast, and lined up with all banners displayed. Bruce made some new knights, and created Walter the Steward and Douglas bannerets. He then made fresh dispositions of his troops, in view of the position of the English van along the Bannock. There, clearly, the battle would be fought. Accordingly, he brought forward Randolph's division from the wood, placing it probably by the north-west corner of Halbert's Bog, almost parallel to Sir Edward's division; while the third division lay across the south-east slopes of Coxet Hill. The formation was in echelon by the right, with unequal intervals. Behind the general line, the rear division stretched from the south-west slopes of Coxet Hill towards Gillies Hill.

The Scottish array appears to have made a deeper impression on the English veterans than on the English king. The Malmesbury chronicler states that the more experienced leaders advised that the battle should be postponed till the following day, partly because of the solemn feast, partly because of the fatigue of the soldiery. The advice was scorned by the younger knights. It was supported, however, by Gloucester, himself a youthful knight. On him, it is said, the King turned with vehement indignation, charging him even with treason and double-dealing. 'To-day,' replied the Earl, 'it will be clear that I am neither traitor nor double-dealer'; and he addressed himself to preparation for battle.

The Scots seem to have made but a paltry show in the eyes of Edward. 'What! Will yonder Scots fight?' he is said to have asked his attendant knights, incredulously. Sir Ingram de Umfraville assured him they would; at the same time suggesting that the English should feign to retire, and so draw the Scots from their ranks to plunder, when they would fall easy victims. Neither did this suggestion jump with the high humour of Edward. At the moment, he observed the Scottish ranks falling on their knees as the Abbot of Inchaffray passed along the lines, bearing aloft the crucifix.

'Yon folk kneel to ask for mercy,' he exclaimed.

'Sire,' said Umfraville, 'ye say sooth now; they crave mercy, but not of you; it is to God they cry for their trespasses. I tell you of a surety, yonder men will win all or die.'

'So be it!' cried Edward, 'we shall soon see.' And he ordered the trumpets to sound the charge.

At the very moment when the hostile armies were closing in stern conflict, says the Monk of Malmesbury, Gloucester and Hereford were in hot wrangle over the question of precedence; and Gloucester sprang forward, 'inordinately bent on carrying off a triumph at the first onset.' His heavy cavalry, though hampered for space and disconcerted by the treacherous pits, went forward gallantly, under the cover of a strong force of archers, who severely galled the Scots, and even drove back their bowmen. They crashed against Sir Edward Bruce's division, which received them 'like a dense hedge' or 'wood.' The great horses with their eager riders dashed themselves in vain against the solid and impenetrable schiltron. Those behind pressed forward, only to bite the dust, like their comrades, under the spears and axes of the Scots. 'There,' says the Monk of Malmesbury, 'the horrible crash of splintered spears, the terrible clangour of swords quivering on helmets, the insupportable force of the Scottish axes, the fearsome cloud of arrows and darts discharged on both sides, might have shaken the courage of the very stoutest heart. The redoubling of blow on blow, the vociferation of encouragements, the din of universal shouting, and the groans of the dying, could be heard farther than may be said.' The Lanercost writer goes near to justifying Scott's remarkable expression, 'steeds that shriek in agony.' Seldom in history has there been so fierce a turmoil of battle.

According to Barbour, Randolph, noting the strain upon the first division, bore down to Sir Edward's support and drew an equally heavy attack upon himself. Steadily the second division won ground, though they seemed lost in the swarms of the enemy, 'as they were plunged in the sea.' But not yet did victory incline to either side. Then Bruce threw into the scale the weight of the third division, the Steward and Douglas ranging themselves 'beside the Earl a little by.' With splendid tenacity, the English grappled with the newcomers in stubborn conflict, till, Barbour says, 'the blood stood in pools' on the field.

The engagement was now as general as the nature of the position allowed. Both sides settled down to steady hard pounding, and it remained to be seen which would pound the hardest and the longest.

The English were at enormous disadvantage in being unable to bring into action their whole force together. They could, indeed, supply the gaps in the narrow front with sheer weight of pressure from the rear, and they took bold risks on parts of the softer ground, especially along the north bank of the Bannock; but, even so, the fighting line was grievously hampered for space, and the wild career of wounded steeds defied the most strenuous efforts to preserve order. The archers, however, worked round to the right of Sir Edward's division, plying their bows with such energy and discrimination as greatly to disconcert Sir Edward's men. The moment had come for King Robert to order into action the marshal, Sir Robert de Keith, with his handful of 500 horsemen 'armed in steel.' Keith dashed upon the archers in flank, and scattered them in flight. This successful operation gave the Scots archers the opportunity to retaliate with effect, while it relieved the foremost division to reconcentrate their energies on the heavy cavalry steadily thundering on their front. But more English cavalry pressed to occupy the ground abandoned by the English archers. And now Bruce appears to have brought his rear division into action upon the English flank. It was his last resource. The Scots, says Barbour, 'fought as they were in a rage; they laid on as men out of wit.' But still the English disputed every inch of ground with indomitable resolution.

It was probably about this time that the gallant young Gloucester fell. After brilliant efforts to penetrate the impenetrable wedge of Scots, he had his charger slain under him, and was thrown to the ground. The mishap is said to have dazed his men, who 'stood as if astonied,' instead of aiding him to rise, burdened as he was with the weight of his armour, and possibly trammelled by his horse. He was thus slain in the midst of the 500 armed followers he had led into the front of the battle. The Monk of Malmesbury raises a loud lament over Gloucester's luckless fate: 'Devil take soldiery,' he exclaims in pious energy, 'whose courage oozes out at the critical moment of need.' It may be, however, that others are right in stating that Gloucester was slain in consequence of his rash and headlong advance at the very first onset.

The prolonged and doubtful struggle naturally wearied out the patience of the non-combatants behind Gillies Hill. Choosing a captain, says Barbour, they marshalled themselves—15,000 to 20,000 in number—improvised banners by fastening sheets on boughs and spears, and advanced over the brow of the hill in view of the battle raging below. The English, it is said, believing them to be a fresh army, were struck with panic. Bruce marking the effect shouted his war-cry and urged his men to their utmost efforts. The English van at last yielded ground, though not at all points. The Scots, however, seized their advantage, and pressed with all their might. The English line broke, falling back on the Bannock. Confusion increased at every step. Horsemen and foot, gentle and simple, were driven pell-mell into the Bannock, and but few of them were lucky enough to gain the south bank; the burn, Barbour says, was 'so full of horses and men that one might pass over it dry-shod.' The panic ran through the whole English army. The day was lost and won.

King Edward refused to believe the evidence of his senses, and obstinately refused to quit the field. But it is the merest bravado—though countenanced by Scott—when Trokelowe relates how the King, in the bitterness and fury of his wrath, 'rushed truculently upon the enemy like a lion robbed of whelps,' copiously shed their blood, and was with difficulty withdrawn from the orgy of massacre. Unquestionably he stood aloof from the battle, watching its progress at a safe distance. When the English gave way in hopeless rout, Valence and Argentine seized his rein and hurried him off the field in spite of all remonstrance. It was not a moment too soon, for already, says Gray, Scots knights 'hung with their hands on the trappings of the King's destrier' in a determined attempt to capture him, and were disengaged only by the King's desperate wielding of a mace. They had even ripped up his destrier, so that presently he had to mount another. Once the King was clear of immediate pursuers, Argentine directed him to Stirling Castle and bade him farewell. 'I have not hitherto been accustomed to flee,' he said, 'nor will I flee now. I commend you to God.' And striking spurs to his steed he charged furiously upon Sir Edward Bruce's division, but was quickly borne down and slain.

The turning of the King's rein was the signal for the general dispersal of the army in flight.

King Edward, attended by Valence, Despenser, Beaumont, Sir John de Cromwell, and some 500 men-at-arms, made for Stirling Castle. Mowbray, with the plainest commonsense—the suggestion of treachery is preposterous—begged him not to stay, for the castle must be surrendered; in any case, it would be taken. So the King was conducted in all haste round the Park and the Torwood towards Linlithgow; the Lanercost writer assigns as guide 'a certain Scots knight, who knew by what ways they could escape.' But for Bruce's anxious care to keep his men in hand in case of a rally, it seems quite certain that Edward would not have escaped at all. Douglas went in pursuit, but he had only some sixty horsemen. On the borders of the Torwood he met Sir Lawrence de Abernethy, who was coming to assist the English, but at once changed sides on learning the issue of the day, and joined Douglas in pursuit of the fugitive King. At Linlithgow Douglas came within bowshot of the royal party, but, not being strong enough to attack, hung close upon their rear, capturing or killing the stragglers. The pursuit was continued hot-foot through Lothian; Douglas

till at last Edward found shelter in Earl Patrick's castle of Dunbar. The King, with seventeen of his closest attendants, presently embarked on a vessel for Berwick (Barbour says Bamborough), 'abandoning all the others,' sneers the Lanercost writer, 'to their fortune,' These others, according to Barbour, had not even been admitted to Dunbar Castle; but Douglas let them go on to Berwick unmolested, and with a drove of captured horses speedily rejoined Bruce at Stirling. Sir Thomas de la Moore attributes the King's escape 'not to the swiftness of his horse, nor to the efforts of men, but to the Mother of God, whom he invoked,' vowing to build and dedicate to her a house for twenty-four poor Carmelites, students of theology. This vow he fulfilled, in spite of the dissuasion of Despenser, and the house is now Oriel College, Oxford.

Another party, headed by the Earl of Hereford, made for Carlisle. According to the Lanercost chronicler, it included the Earl of Angus, Sir John de Segrave, Sir Antony de Lucy, Sir Ingram de Umfraville, and many other knights, and numbered 600 horse and 1000 foot. They appealed to the hospitality of Sir Walter Fitz Gilbert, who held Valence's castle of Bothwell for Edward with a garrison of sixty Scots. Fitz Gilbert admitted 'the more noble' of them—Barbour says fifty; the Meaux chronicler, 120; Walsingham, a still larger number. Fitz Gilbert at once secured them all as prisoners, and delivered them to Sir Edward Bruce, who was sent with a large force to take them over. Hereford and others were eventually exchanged for the Queen, the Princess Marjory, and the Bishop of Glasgow; the rest were held to heavy ransom. The main body of the party struggled forward to the Border, but many of them—Barbour says three-fourths—were slain or captured. Everywhere, in fact, the inhabitants, who 'had previously feigned peace' with the English, rose upon the hapless fugitives. Thus, Sir Maurice de Berkeley escaped with a great body of Welshmen, but, says Barbour, many were taken or slain before they reached England. A large number fled to Stirling Castle, where Barbour pictures the crags as covered with them; but these at once surrendered to a detachment of Bruce's force.

It is hopeless to number the slain that strewed the field of battle, choked the Bannock, or floated down the Forth. Barbour says roundly that 30,000 English were slain or drowned. The Meaux chronicler admits 20,000. Walsingham numbers no less than 700 knights and squires. Besides Gloucester and Argentine, the veteran Sir Robert de Clifford, Sir Pagan de Tybetot, Sir William the Marshal, Sir William de Vescy, Sir John Comyn (the son of the Red Comyn, slain at Dumfries), Sir Henry de Bohun, Sir William D'Eyncourt, and many other notable warriors, had fallen in the forefront of battle. Sir Edmund de Mauley, the King's seneschal, was drowned in the Bannock. The undistinguished many must remain uncounted. The Scots losses, which, though comparatively insignificant, must yet have been considerable, are equally beyond reckoning. The only men of note mentioned are Sir William Vipont and Sir Walter Ross.

In dealing with his prisoners, Bruce displayed a princely generosity. Trokelowe frankly acknowledges that his handsome liberality gained him immense respect 'even among his enemies.' Walsingham declares that it 'changed the hearts of many to love of him.' The Monk of Reading is fairly astonished. There was no haggling over exchanges or ransoms, though no doubt many of the ransoms were at a high figure. Sir Ralph de Monthermer, who was captured at Stirling, and was an old friend of Bruce's, was released without ransom, and carried back to England the King's shield, which Bruce freely returned. Sir Marmaduke Twenge, a relative of Bruce's, who yielded himself to the King personally on the day after the battle, was sent home, not only without ransom, but with handsome gifts. The bodies of Gloucester and Clifford were freely sent to Edward at Berwick with every token of respect for gallant foes; and, while the common men that fell on the field were interred in common trenches, the more noble were buried with noble ceremonial 'in holy places.'

The spoils collected by the victors were enormous. Walsingham ventures on an estimate of £200,000; 'so many good nobles, vigorous youths, noble horses, warlike arms, precious garments and napery, and vessels of gold—all lost!' Bruce made generous distribution among his valiant men. The individual ransoms largely increased the individual acquisitions. 'The whole land,' says Fordun, 'overflowed with boundless wealth.' The chroniclers labour to assign reasons for the great disaster. The religious reason seems rather thin; for, if Edward and his barons broke the Ordinances, and also fought on a feast day, Bruce and his friends lay under multiplied excommunications. There is more substance in other allegations—presumptuous confidence on the part of the English leaders; discord in their councils; their impetuous and disorderly advance; the fatigue and hunger of the men by reason of the rapid march from Berwick. One would be unwilling to press a certain lack of enthusiasm for their King, or a suspicion of inadequate generalship. There is sufficient explanation in the skill, prudence, and iron resolution of Bruce, supported by able generals of division, and by brave and patriotic men. Had the result been otherwise, it would have been, for England, a greater disaster still.

'Yet'—and the word of honest sympathy and justification will not jar now on any generous mind—