Hay brought the Earl of Dunbar and March to his monarch at length-as High Constable of Scotland his authority was undisputable.
My lord, Bruce snapped, at once, I am much displeased.
Who gave you leave to burn this my town of Berwick?
Your Graces town of Berwick is a nest of adders that should be smoked out, the other returned coolly.
That I do.
Douglas commanded here, in my name, as Warden of the Marches. His orders were to spare the town. He has been besieging Berwick for a year-Berwick Castle. As you know well. At any time he could have contrived that the town should burn. Such was not my will. You. knew it, my lord. Yet you have chosen to do this. You will tell me why, anon. Meantime, you will halt this folly, this carnage, immediately. Have your men withdrawn.
All burning, and slaying of the citizenry to cease. You understand?
If you wish Berwick Castle to fall, Sire, you will think again, the
Earl declared thinly.
This town protects it like a breastplate. I remove that breastplate for you.
Silence, sir! Do you debate my commands with me, the King?
Bruce cried.
My lord Constable-see that the Earl of Dunbar calls off his men forthwith. No further delay. Have them assemble at the Salt-market. There is room there.
Bowing stiffly, the Cospatrick was led off.
But it was not so simple as that. Dunbar, it proved, had but little hold over his irregular force of Mersemen, many of whom had old scores to pay in Berwick town. Men inflamed with passion, liquor and rapine were not to be restrained, controlled, assembled, now scattered wide as they were. They continued to run riot, roaming where they would. In his efforts to bring them to heel, the King had to order the detachment of large numbers of Douglass and Morays veterans, thus greatly endangering the entire venture.
Bruce made his own way through the inferno to the narrow, climbing
Castlegate, which rose steeply from the town to the frowning fortress
which dominated all from its rocky eminence high above the Tweed. If
Sir Roger Horsley and his large garrison chose to clear this Castlegate
with volleys of missiles flung from their great slings and mangonels
* as they could readily do-and then sallied out in force, the depleted Scots force could by no means hold them. As cork for this bottle, Bruce knew his stopping-power to be quite inadequate.
That Horsley continued to hold his hand was surprising.
All that grim night the situation remained unresolved, with a confusion
of fighting in narrow flame-lit streets, as much between Douglass
veterans and Dunbars local levies as between Scots and English. Yet
no break-out was attempted from the castle, no stones and projectiles
were hurled down the Castlegate -which even in semi-darkness could not
have failed to be effective, so narrow was the gullet. Bruce stood
through the long hours, in the throat of the ascent, with a mere handful of men-although trumpet calls could have brought at least a hundred or two others fairly swiftly. Lights shone up at the citadel, but no stir of movement-that same castle where exactly twenty years before Edward Plantagenet had so deliberately humiliated him before Elizabeth, before all, at the Ragman Roll signing.
A chill grey dawn brought no immediate easement, for though the fighting and burning was tailing off, through weariness and satiety rather than any major imposition of discipline, the danger from the castle was heightened, since Horsley could now see how comparatively few he had to deal with; and missile-fire- and worse, arrows-could now be used accurately. But still no sally developed. Gradually Bruce began to breathe more freely. For some reason Horsley did not commit himself. To help matters along, the King ordered much blowing of trumpets from various parts of the smoking town, much unfurling and parading of standards.
And he sent an impressive deputation, under the High Constable and the Warden of the Marches, to within hailing distance of the fortress gatehouse, to demand the immediate surrender of this Scots citadel to the King of Scots in person, offering honourable terms and safe conduct for the garrison to Durham. Also he hanged a couple of score of Dunbars looters and rapers, from beams made to project from Castlegate windows-as much to impress the garrion as to enforce his authority and punish the men, on the principle that any commander who could so afford to deal with his own troops must be very sure of his own strength. The Earl of Dunbar was constrained to officiate at these hangings, for sufficient reason; also it allowed the King to give it out that it was punishment for in discipline against the Earls own orders, a face saving device that was important if this powerful noble was not to be totally estranged and thrown back hereafter into the English arms.
By midday, although there was no response from the fortress to the surrender demand, Bruce was satisfied that there was not now likely to be any break-out. Even with his siege-machines, however, he could not effectively assault the citadel, so secure was its position.
But at least it was now cut off from the harbour, as from the town, and from reinforcement and supply by sea and land. Giving orders for such salvage and aid operations as were possible in the unhappy town, the weary and hollow-eyed monarch allowed himself to be persuaded to take a few hours rest on the late Governor Withams bed.
Prior Adam de Newton arrived back in Berwick that same morning, having been unaccountably delayed en route. His Minorite priory had been spared the flames, and his precious letters and Bull were intact.
Wisely he decided that the moment was scarcely ripe for any attempt at presenting them to his difficult liege lord. First things probably came first, and there was ample for priests to do in Berwickon-Tweed for the moment. The lords Cardinal would surely understand.
It was not long before Sir Roger Horsley recognised realities, saw that if he had been going to attempt any counter-measures, he had left them too late, and decided to accept the terms of honourable surrender. It said something for the Scots Kings reputation, as a man who kept his word, that the Englishmen were prepared to trust to it; for at the last siege of Berwick, Edward of England had likewise offered honourable terms to the Scots castle garrison, after the capture and massacre of the town; and when Douglass father Sir William, the governor, had submitted on those terms, the Plantagenet had laughed aloud, put him in chains, and sent him to walk, thus, with common jailers, all the way to London, for imprisonment in the Tower-thereby creating more than one deadly enemy. His son, grim-faced, watched the English garrison ride out from the castle and town, swords retained and flags flying, a few days after the fall of Berwick, on their way to Durham; but he made no protest.
Berwick was a tremendous prize, in more than the mere cleansing of the
last inch of Scots soil from the invader. It was one of the most
renowned fortresses in the two kingdoms, and its loss a damaging blow
to English morale. It dominated the Border, and all of Northumberland
right to Newcastle. It gave the Scots a first-class seaport. And it
endowed them with a mighty collection of warlike engines collected
here, springalds, cranes, sows, ballista and the like, such as they had
never had before. Above all, of course, Berwicks restoration to
Scotland, before the Papal edict anent it had been made public,
invalidated the said edict-which was Robert Bruces urgent
preoccupation meantime, in this strange contest of wits with the Holy See.
Ever a believer in striking while the iron was hot, and in order
further to demonstrate to the Papal envoys that they were backing a