The Greatest Traitor: The Life of Sir Roger Mortimer, 1st Earl of March (34 page)

The army remained at York throughout June. Several rumours reached Roger of plots being formed against him. Accordingly he took personal control of the situation. On 8 June he had himself appointed chief keeper of the peace in Herefordshire, Worcestershire and Staffordshire, and to this he added Glamorgan four days later. Being the deposed king’s keeper made for an uneasy existence, and one which could only become uneasier if he went to Scotland. But on 15 June the Scots launched an overnight attack, and it became clear that a military confrontation was inevitable, not so much to defeat the Scots as to placate the northern English lords.

On 1 July, as the army set out from York, dreadful news came from the south. An express messenger gave Roger a secret message: Berkeley Castle had been ransacked and Edward II had been captured by men faithful to the Dunheved brothers, the same men who had been involved in the conspiracy in March to free Edward.
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It was a significant blow. One can only imagine the fury and the feeling of powerlessness that he now felt. Here he was, about to set out on a sham war against the Scots, on behalf of a sham king, two hundred and fifty miles away from Berkeley Castle,
unable easily to communicate with Maltravers and Berkeley. Edward had to be recaptured at all costs, not just because of the risk of Roger’s enemies exploiting the ex-king but for the sake of his control of the present king too. He must have recognised that without Isabella he had no real power over Edward III. This young man wanted to fight, to play the chivalric hero, to rule even; and Roger, without Isabella, could not stop him. The only potential hold he had over the king was possession of his father, and his ability to stop anyone else from setting Edward II up as a rival to Edward III.

Roger waited at York for a day after the army set out. He had no option but to keep faith with Berkeley and Maltravers, and hope that they could recapture the ex-king. The two custodians were given a special commission to keep the peace across the whole of the region, through the counties of Dorset, Somerset, Wiltshire, Hampshire, Herefordshire, Oxfordshire and Berkshire, in the hope that this would help them track down the conspirators. Apart from this official appointment, everything was done in the strictest secrecy – no one was allowed to know the ex-king was at liberty. Then Roger set off to catch up with the army.

Edward III was full of confidence and expectation as he set out on his first military campaign. Le Bel notes trumpets sounding and pennants fluttering as they marched north, through Overton, Myton-on-Swale, to Topcliffe, where they waited a week for intelligence reports, and then on through Northallerton and Darlington to Durham, which they reached on 14 July. Here they paused again, considering their strategy. With a small contingent of men at Carlisle guarding the western approaches to England, it was hoped that any Scottish army intent on reaching York would be held at bay by the risk of being cut off by the king’s force at Durham.

The Scots were not daunted. Under the command of Sir Thomas Randolph and Sir James Douglas – Black Douglas as he is known to Scottish patriots – Bruce’s army had already crossed into England and was harrying the country. Far from cutting off the Scots’ advance the two English armies had created a corridor along which the Scots had skilfully manoeuvred their forces. The first the English knew of the incursion was seeing smoke rising above the villages to the south.

How could an experienced military leader like Roger have allowed this to happen? One explanation may simply be that he was not personally in control. The king had appointed the Earls of Norfolk and Kent to take direct charge of the army, and Henry of Lancaster to be overall commander.
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Roger received no position of command at all. As the most experienced and successful military leader then in England, this might be considered surprising. But it has to be remembered that Roger and Isabella
were not anticipating any great conquests or victories, but rather a campaign merely to hold the Scots at bay prior to agreeing a surrender of the English claim of sovereignty. Moreover one must bear in mind Roger’s policy of not offering himself official positions of command in order to avoid being seen to be appropriating power. It is probable that he opted out of any share of responsibility for the campaign on the basis that it was bound to end in a peace which many would find humiliating. The alternative explanation – that his failure to receive a position of command was due to the king’s or Lancaster’s resentment – is unlikely, since the appointments were made in mid-June, at York, while Edward was still under his mother’s watchful eye. The blunder was most probably a failure of collective leadership, in which Roger, in a distracted and unenthusiastic mood, was to blame as much as Henry of Lancaster and the two royal earls.

Jean le Bel, as a Hainaulter footsoldier with the army, had his own explanation as to why the Scottish forces managed to outstrip and outsmart the English. They travelled on horseback, taking no provision wagons, no chests of meat, no tuns of wine. They took no pots or pans either, and so could travel long distances in one day, whereas the English were tied to their long lines of packhorses and supply wagons. In war the Scots relied on local cattle, which they butchered and stewed in cauldrons made of hide, and to balance their diet they carried oatmeal under their saddles which they baked into cakes on flat stones. In addition they were following two very experienced and inspiring commanders; the English by comparison were following a fourteen-year-old boy whom Roger and the other leaders were desperately trying to shelter from danger.

When the English saw the smoke rising to the south, they turned in that direction and drew up in three battalions, expecting to do battle. The Scots withdrew. The English followed as far as a wood near Bishop Auckland, where they waited for their baggage carts while the Scots burnt another village. So long did they wait that they camped in the wood, and set out in formation again the following day. But the terrain was too hilly and marshy for battle formations to be maintained. Their systematic rule-book approach thwarted them. Not only that, it was exhausting, and they were still no nearer meeting the Scots in battle. Smoke now rose from more villages in their path. The army was exhausted. When they camped that night the king ordered his commanders to meet at a nearby monastery to discuss tactics. It was agreed that the Scots were probably now in retreat, unwilling to face superior numbers, and that the English might yet win a victory if they moved north to cut off their route over the River Tyne. The one problem was that this strategy required a very rapid troop
manoeuvre. The decision was made that the English mounted men should emulate the Scots and leave behind their provisions. Lacking the knowledge of how to make oatcakes, each man was told to take only one loaf of bread with him, strapped to his saddle. It was anticipated that there would be a battle the next day, so further provisions were considered unnecessary.

Next morning the English mounted men all set off on a thirty-five-mile ride towards the Tyne. The strict battle formation in which they had proceeded earlier no longer applied. Now men rode ahead of their banners and behind them, lacking all order. But the weather had not been good, and horses were trapped in bogs and marshes. The journey became miserable and frustrating. Those whose horses stuck in the mud, or went lame, quickly fell behind, and with no support to help them soon lost sight of the army. They were riding in heavy armour, which made progress even harder and slower. The lack of discipline hampered them: when the front ranks of riders cried out or gestured at the sight of wild animals, of which there were many, the rear thought that the enemy was attacking, and forced themselves forward with all haste. Through marshes and mountains le Bel and his comrades followed the king and Roger, reaching the Tyne that evening. There they forded the river near Haydon, despite the inconvenience of the huge rocks, and collapsed, exhausted and hungry, on the far side.

Now the shortsightedness of the manoeuvre became apparent. Having failed to meet the Scots, they would have to sleep in their armour, out in the open, with no tents, nor the means to make any shelters. This effectively meant no sleep. They had no warmth since they had no hatchets and hooks to get material to build fires, and they had no food, except the loaves they carried. By now these were mostly disgustingly salty and damp, soaked by the sweat of their exhausted horses. Their forces were scattered, their companions were far behind, and their supply wagons were a fading memory. Worse, they had nothing for their horses to eat, and on the bare bank of the Tyne there was precious little to which they could tether them, so men sat out the night on the ground, shivering, holding their horses’ reins.

When dawn finally came, their sorrows were swollen by a downpour. The rain was so heavy that within a few hours the river before them had risen dramatically, and it was no longer possible to cross to find out where their supplies were, or where their enemy was. Men drew their swords and hacked branches from the trees to tie up their horses, but otherwise they were in the same parlous state as they had been the evening before: except colder, hungrier, and more hopeless.

That night they attempted to sleep in their armour again.

The following day, about noon, they found some ‘poor peasants’, who told them they were forty-two miles from Newcastle and thirty-three from Carlisle, and that there were no nearer towns. Men were sent off accordingly to fetch provisions on horseback. They proclaimed in the towns that whoever wished to sell their goods should bring them to the army. The announcement was sufficient to bring a few mules and ponies laden with poorly baked rough bread and thin watered down wine to add to the river water the army had been drinking. Although the food was poor, men fought over it. The rains continued and the saddles and harnesses began to rot, and many horses fell sick and died. Sores developed on the horses’ backs, and their hooves rotted. They were unable to replace the horses’ shoes. There was no wood except stuff so green and wet it would not burn, and men’s armour began to chafe and tear the skin off their shoulders. For eight days this went on, according to le Bel, with the army tramping up and down the north bank of the river between two fords. The official records agree with him: after the long ride from Bishop Auckland on 21 July the privy seal (the most accurate indication we have as to the king’s whereabouts) was either at Haydon or twenty miles upstream at Haltwhistle until 29 July.

Meanwhile, the Scots, who had not anticipated the sudden dash of the English from Bishop Auckland, had begun to wonder what had happened to the enemy. They themselves sensibly remained in their well-defended position at Stanhope. On 29 July, a Yorkshire squire named Thomas Rokeby found them, and, having been captured by the Scots guards, was released in order to bring the English back to confront them. At Haltwhistle the army returned to the river, now in full flood, where a number of horses were drowned. Once across they rode down to the burnt-out ruins of Blanchland Abbey. Here, knowing at last where the Scots were, and reunited with their footsoldiers and supply wagons, they prepared for battle. With great solemnity Edward heard mass and made his confession. Then the English mounted and advanced with trumpets sounding behind their banners and rode the last nine miles south from Blanchland to Stanhope, where the Scots were arrayed.

The purpose of the Scots in releasing Thomas Rokeby to lead the English to them was immediately apparent. They were lined up on the side of a steep hill about four hundred yards on the other side of the River Wear. To fight them, the English would have to cross the river and climb the hill under arrow fire. Although the young king did what he could to inspire his forces – riding among his army giving them words of encouragement, knighting several esquires, and drawing his footsoldiers up in
battalions – nothing could detract from the strength of the Scottish position. They simply did not move. Edward sent heralds to them, asking them whether they would consider crossing the river to fight on the English side, since they professed to be eager for battle. Sir Thomas Randolph was all for this, but Sir James Douglas restrained him, insisting they should be patient. The Scots sent their reply: the King of England could see that they were in his country, and that they had ransacked and plundered it; if he did not like them being there he should cross the river and force them to retreat, otherwise they would stay where they were.

The English marched several battalions forward, and sent their archers to the front to cross the river and to cover the advance of their knights. But Douglas anticipated this move, and sent a party forward under Donald of Mar and Archibald Douglas to ambush the archers. The archers were warned at the last minute by a squire, Robert Ogle, and although many were killed, they managed to retreat. In the fighting a Scots knight, Sir William Erskine, was captured, and, in anticipation of a general attack, the English brought forward some new weapons they had brought with them. ‘Crakkis of wer’ Barbour calls them, saying they had never been heard before.
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They were in fact the forerunners of the first cannon to be used in war in Britain: iron buckets filled with stones and gunpowder, ignited from beneath, making noises considerably louder than anything heard in battle before. As the wily Scots may well have observed from their commanding position, these exploding iron buckets were not yet wholly reliable or even controllable, and required considerable further development before they would become effective weapons. Barbour also remarked that that day was the first time the Scots had seen heraldic crests on knights’ helmets. It is ironic that one of the classic hallmarks of the knight on horseback should first appear in the same battle as the first guns, which would eventually make such mounted knights redundant.

On seeing the attack on the English archers, Roger insisted that the advance be halted. Young Edward was furious: this was his great chance to lead a victorious army. Moreover, he had gone amongst his men urging them to fight for England and for God; he could not possibly be seen to withdraw now: it would seem cowardly. But Roger insisted. He overruled the Earls of Lancaster and Kent, countermanded Sir John of Hainault, and persuaded the marshal of the army, the Earl of Norfolk, not to lead the vanguard against the Scots.
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They all obeyed him. Seething with fury, Edward accused Roger of treason, saying that he wanted the Scots to get away.
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Roger would not be moved. He had no official position, he ruled only through force of character – he did not even have Isabella at his side to coerce young Edward – but on the field of battle no one disagreed
with him or dared disobey. His peers were scared of him.