‘Edward’s armies are on the way to defend Stirling,’ was Sir Philip’s argument. ‘I can hold out until they arrive. This could spell a defeat for you which could be disastrous to the Scottish cause.’
Edward Bruce replied that all knew the nature of the King of England. He was not like his father. It seemed like he had no intention of bringing an army to Scotland. In which case in due time the Scots would have Stirling as they had Edinburgh, Linlithgow and the rest.
‘That is true,’ replied Mowbray. ‘So I will make a truce with you. If the English army is not within three leagues of this castle by the Feast of St John the Baptist, I will surrender to you without the loss of one life on either side.’
Edward Bruce agreed. When his brother Robert heard what he had done he was greatly displeased but, determined to make the best of the situation, he began to see that the arrangement would give him a chance to gather together an army to stand against the English should they come.
Pembroke came in haste to Edward. ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘you will see the urgency of this matter. Mowbray must be relieved at Stirling and we have little time in which to do it.’
Edward sighed. ‘These tiresome Scots.’
Pembroke went on a trifle impatiently: ‘Mowbray is a gallant soldier and a faithful servant. He needs assistance and he must have it.’
‘Then, let us send it.’
‘My lord, that is not enough. Since your father’s death we have lost a great deal of that which he gained. One by one the garrison towns are slipping away from us. We must stop this and the only way to do it is to amass an army and march on Scotland.’
‘The barons―’
‘It is an opportunity to unite them in a single cause. No matter what their quarrels with each other, their duty to the Crown remains. I am ready to forget my differences with Warwick until this matter is resolved and so must they.’
‘I see this could be so,’ said Edward.
‘There must be a full scale invasion from sea and land. The Scots have a great leader in the Bruce. Never have they been so united― even under Wallace.
Now is the time, my lord. If we allow Stirling to fall into the hands of the Scots it will be a disaster. We owe it to Mowbray to send relief as soon as it is possible.’
‘It shall be done,’ cried Edward. He felt a sudden enthusiasm for the fight.
‘It was true that it would bind the barons together and he was tired— and a little afraid— of their continual bickering. It would help him to forget Gaveston.
People were always comparing him with his father, now they should see that he could be warlike too. He would teach the Scots a lesson.’
‘We should summon the earls and barons without fail,’ said Pembroke ‘Let it be done,’ answered Edward.
Within a few days the commands were issued to eight earls― among them Lancaster— and eighty-seven barons.
They were to meet at Berwick by the tenth day of June.
Preparations went on apace. Edward ordered that a fleet of twenty-three vessels be assembled at the Cinque ports and their purpose was to invade Scotland.
In all this Pembroke was beside the King. He tried to instill into Edward a respect for his opponent. It would not be the first time Pembroke had faced Bruce. He had been victorious against him at Methven and beaten by him at Loudoun Hill and he knew him for a formidable foe. Edward laughed aside his warnings. Bruce was a man to be reckoned with, yes, he accepted that. But such an army would come against him that his would be completely outnumbered.
‘Even my father could not have withstood such an army had he been on the opposing side,’ said Edward.
‘ ‘Tis so, my lord,’ replied Pembroke. ‘But we must not make the mistake of expecting easy victory.’
Pembroke was a master at the art of war. He made sure that the army should have the necessary provisions; he set up men whose efficiency he could rely on to take care of the stores. They must have in their train smiths, carpenters, masons, and armourers, wagons to carry the tents and pavilions and all that was necessary to warfare. Many a battle he reminded the King had been lost through neglect of such details.
Nor must the King neglect to ask the help of God and it would be a good gesture for him to make a pilgrimage with the Queen, and his young son to St Albans.
Isabella was nothing loath. She enjoyed displaying herself to the people, and that she should show off her son delighted her.
Along the roads people came out to give loyal greetings as they passed. It was like the old days when Great Edward went to war, they said. There was the King with his Queen and his son, the heir to the throne. The Gaveston period was over. That man had been evil. He was the son of a witch and temporarily had cast a spell on the King. All Edward needed now was victory in Scotland and the people would be certain that the old days were back again.
Alas, it was not going to be so easy, as he found when he arrived at Berwick.
It was Pembroke who brought the news to him. ‘Lancaster, Arundel, Surrey and Warwick will not come in person,’ he told the King.
Edward was filled with sudden rage. ‘Why not? How dare they? Have I not summoned them?’
‘Aye, my lord, and they have sent token troops in accordance with their feudal vows to the Crown. They say that they should have been consulted before you took up arms.’
‘Traitors!’ cried the King.
‘We cannot say that, my lord. They have fulfilled their commitments though in the minimum degree it is true and we shall not have the force we expected from them.’
‘I thought at a time like this they would have considered their duty to their country.’
‘They consider only gain to themselves, my lord. And they have performed what was required of them at this time. We have the service of good men. Many have seen service in Scotland before this and Wales too. Their services will be of the greatest value to us.’
The King agreed and he glowed with pride and optimism when he surveyed his army. There must be some forty thousand men, a band of which even his father would have been proud.
Edward was going to show the Scots that his father’s spirit going to make them lived on. He was going to make them eat their words. This was going to be as great a victory as had ever glorified his father’s name.
He with his men marched on to Edinburgh.
Robert the Bruce, aware of the advancing English, should have been filled with apprehension. He was, and yet there was in him a surging hope, for he believed that it was his destiny to drive the English out of Scotland and when Edward the First had died and he had begun to realize the nature of his successor he had been certain that he was going to succeed.
There had been so much failure; the Scots could not hope to raise an army which could compare with that of Edward’s in training; in equipment they were vastly inferior; yet the spirit was there. Men who were defending their homeland always had the advantage over the invader. If they had an inspired leader, they could work miracles. Bruce was inspired. He has suffered many defeats but he knew he was going to win in the end. he liked to tell the tale of the spider which had somehow caught his imagination and that of his followers.
He would sit by the light of the camp fire and talk to them of the time when he had been lonely, depressed and defeated, when he had been routed and had barely managed to save his life. He would tell how he had lain in his bed and watched a spider try six times to attach its thread to a balk and each time fail.