CHAPTER XLVIII

BURNT CANDLEMAS

It was said of the first Edward, that, while figuring conspicuously between a weak father and a wilful son, he needed no such foils to set forth his real worth; that, personally as well as intellectually, he towered above his fellows; that his step was another man's stride; that he was most judicious in all his undertakings, being equally wise to plot as valiant to perform; that, under Divine Providence, he was happy in success, at sea and on land, at home and abroad; and that, in all his actions, he proved himself capable of governing, not England only, but the whole world. Moreover, it is said that he was so fortunate with his sword at the opening of his reign, that, ere the close, he awed all his enemies with his scabbard, and the renown of his exploits; and if the praises bestowed on the first Edward cannot, on all points, with justice be rendered to the third, it is due to the memory of the hero of Halidon and Cressy to say that, after passing the thirty-fifth year of his life, he was one whose name was so terrible to his enemies--both French and Scots--that they would no more have thought of facing him in pitched battle than they would have thought of encountering his illustrious grandsire.

It was, therefore, with sensations the reverse of agreeable that the guardian and chief men of Scotland learned that Edward had reached Roxburgh with a formidable force. In fact, supposing that the king would shirk the hardships of a winter's campaign north of the Tweed, and anticipating that, after restoring the fortifications of Berwick, he would return to his capital, they drew to a head, and prepared, as soon as he turned his face southward, to renew their predatory incursions. On finding how much they were mistaken in their calculations, they resolved on leaving the country to its fate, and withdrawing, with what valuables they could remove, to the region lying beyond the Firth.

But, in order to carry their plan into execution, the Scots felt that it was necessary to gain time, and with this view they resorted to a device which did them little credit. In fact, they deliberately sent ambassadors to the king at Roxburgh, with proposals from Lord Douglas and other nobles to treat about submitting to his authority; and, having by this trick obtained a respite of hostilities, they employed the time in laying waste the country, and in accomplishing their removal to what was a place of comparative safety. Having done so, they were mad enough to exasperate the king by sending him a defiance.

It was rashly done, as the event proved too clearly. No sooner did Edward discover the trick that had been played upon him than he expressed the utmost indignation; and, when he received the message of defiance, his anger was fierce. Arraying his army in three divisions, the king left Roxburgh, with the banner of Scotland displayed before him, and a determination to make the country which had defied his power feel the weight of his hand. Advancing as far as Edinburgh, he there halted, and, indulging in the expectation that the guardian and Scottish nobles would pluck up courage to give him battle, awaited their coming; but those patriotic magnates, having exposed their countrymen to the utmost peril, thought only of their own safety, and left others to suffer, as they best could, all the horrors of war.

Meanwhile, the plight of Edward was not enviable. No provisions were to be had for love or money, and the fighting men of England, who when at home never drank water save by way of penance, had no other drink for fifteen days. Still, the king had the prospect of supplies; for his fleet, laden with provisions and necessaries, was expected to arrive in the Firth. But the elements proved hostile to the invaders. A violent storm arose, and the wind, blowing from the north, drove back and dispersed the ships so effectually, that the English lost all hope of being relieved by sea, and indicated a decided wish to turn their faces towards Berwick.

By this time, indeed, matters had reached such a stage that Edward had no alternative; and he gave orders for a retreat. Accordingly the army began its march southward, and the Scots had every prospect of getting rid of the invaders on cheap terms. But they had not learned to leave well alone. Day by day, and night by night, the retreating army was harassed by small parties; and so dexterous were the Scots in this kind of warfare, that not an Englishman could straggle from the ranks without the certainty of being cut off.

The king, whose blood now boiled with rage, expressed the utmost resentment; and, no longer making any effort to keep his temper, he discharged his wrath on the country through which he passed. Every town that lay in his way, whether great or small, was given to the flames; every village was reduced to ashes; and, for about twenty miles from the sea-coast, the country for a long period bore such traces of the conflagration, that the Scots have continued to describe the February of that season as Burnt Candlemas, in memory of the devastation which the English then wrought, while departing in anger from a land which they could not conquer.

For a time the Scots appeared bent on retaliation; and during the winter, notwithstanding Copeland's vigilance, they set many a Northumbrian village in a blaze. But the year was fruitful of events of which they little dreamt when, at the instance of John of Valois, they mounted their horses, fought at Nisbet Moor, and seized upon Berwick.

Ere Candlemas again came round great changes had occurred, and the continental ally to whom they had been so servile was too poor to bribe, and too powerless to succour. It was now February, and before October a great battle had been fought, and a great victory had been won, which prostrated the energies of France, daunted the ferocious spirit of Scotland, and rendered England even more celebrated than before, not only throughout Christendom, but among the Saracens and the nations of the East, as the cradle of heroes and the nursery of conquerors.

And there arose circumstances in considering which the Scots deemed it prudent to refrain from inroads, and Edward, even if he had felt a wish, had no occasion to chastise their audacity. Never, indeed, after the spring of 1356, did the king engage in war with that obstinate and refractory nation. It is possible that, even at that period, and while pursuing the enterprise, he was tired of struggles which could not be brought to a satisfactory issue; and that he was in reality bidding "Farewell to Scotland" when he left them to celebrate a "Burnt Candlemas."