There was, however, an unanticipated reaction three weeks later, just as the assembling host was preparing to move off
into Cumbria. Old Thurstan himself made his second visit to Rook's Burgh, unannounced, frail as he now was, borne in a horse-litter. It seemed that the news of the Scots muster had not taken long to reach York, and further afield still.
He came on the lord Stephen's behalf, the Archbishop declared. The King had had to go to Normandy on affairs of that dukedom. But he would be back soon after Christmas. He urged that King David did nothing rash. There was no need for armed display. As monarchs, they could compose any differences between them readily enough face to face, without bloodshed. Why resort to the
sword? Wait until after Yuletide
, and Stephen would come north in person to put matters to rights.
David was surprised and only moderately impressed. Why had the governors not been withdrawn from the two provinces long since, he demanded? And what of Holm Cultram, where his son's works had been insol
ently stopped? And on his, Thur
stan's, instructions it was said.
That was all a mistake, a misunderstanding, the Archbishop asserted. Underlings exceeding their instructions. Work could recommence. Just an unfortunate misapprehension by dolts.
David was placed in something of a quandary. It was evident that his muster of strength had achieved results without a sword being drawn. But how genuine, how worthwhile, was this reaction? Stephen was utterly untrustworthy - and he estimated that the Archbishop was almost equally so. Yet was there any point in marching in force into Cumbria when the object of the enterprise was already gained? Would this not come to look foolish? If there was nobody to fight, nothing to be done but make a progress? He did not want to let loose a large army on a defenceless province, his own province in theory, with no especial aim and target. It would result in sheer slaughter, massacre, pillage and rapine - such invasions always did. On the other hand, if he accepted Thurstan's assurances and dispersed his host, relieving the pressure on the English, had he any certainty that all would not be as before, promises forgotten?
One factor weighed heavily, the coming Yuletide season. He had deliberately chosen a winter-time strike simply because such was practically never attempted on account of adverse conditions, and so offered great opportunities for surprise. But it was one thing to lead an army on a winter campaign and altogether another to keep it standing idle, at home, over Yule, the greatest and longest holiday season in Scotland. It would be as good as condemning the Tweed valley to chaos and spoliation. Indeed, keeping any army, made up of individual lords' levies and innumerable district contingents, in inactive waiting for any length of time, was apt to be a disastrous business.
David decided that he had little choice, in the circumstances. He would accept the Archbishop's assurances meantime, and wait for Stephen, sending all but a nucleus of his force home for Yuletide; but they must be prepared to remuster at short notice, if necessary. As usual, many of his nobles and supporters were grievously disappointed and saw this as weakness.
So Thurstan departed southwards and most of the Scots northwards, and Rook's Burgh prepared itself for a more or less normal Yule.
In mid-January, with no word of or from Stephen, David went north himself for a council-meeting at Stirling, in hard frost but calm weather. That council decided, amongst other things, without actually saying so, that the King had misjudged, acted weakly in not taking Northumbria and Cumbria by main force when he had his army assembled. Clearly strategy by gesture, artifice and wits was much less popular than that of honest cold steel.
It was on his way back to Rook's Burgh from this meeting that an urgent messenger from Ranulph de Soulis met the King. Stephen had landed an army unexpectedly at Berwick-on-Tweed, from a great fleet of s
hips, and was invading the Merse
and Lothian, himself leading.
After the first sickening jolt of near-despair at men's deceit and dishonesty, David acted swiftly. He sent back Hervey the Marischal to Stirling with orders for an immediate full-scale muster of the nation's greatest strength; but while this was assembling, he was to send on all available forces immediately.
He sent warning to Lothian and Clydesdale and Galloway. And he raced on for Rook's Burgh with all speed.
There he learned the details. The English had been cunning. Coming in the usual way, by land, the Scots would have had some warning of a large force approaching; by sea, none. After landing at the mouth of Tweed, Stephen had stru
ck inland, up-river, into the Me
rse. But of course having no horses, his advance was comparatively slow - the disadvantage of any sea-borne invasion. This had given time for de Soulis, left in charge at Rook's Burgh, to fling forward such troops as remained there from the original muster, with what was quickly obtainable locally, to the number of about fifteen hundred, and these were now fighting a delaying action along Tweedside and the South Merse. Young Earl Cospatrick had scraped together about eight hundred of his people, and with these was harrying the enemy flank on the north. Others like Burnet of Fairnington and de Mautelant, Hugo's vassal at Lauder, were out harassing likewise. But it was reckoned that Stephen had landed at least eight thousand, and these would not hold him up for long. Last reports had put him at Lennel, the other side of Coldstream, only a dozen miles away -although part of his force was said to be heading northwards up the coast towards Dunbar.
David had three courses open to him. He could hurry back northwards to meet the forces which Hervey should be sending on — but that might take days, before any effective counter-stroke could be mentioned. And there was always the possibility that Stephen might be expecting reinforcements by land or sea. He might shut himself up here in the March Mount Castle and wait to be besieged — undignified and probably unprofitable, and preventing him from placing himself at the head of his forces when they did arrive. Or he could attempt some small sally, however limited, here and now.
The trouble was that his total available manpower meantime, including the party which had accompanied him from Stirling, less the many sent off as couriers, amounted to no more than two hundred. Not a great deal could be done with two hundred against thousands, however gallant. But there was one point in his favour — being the King's companions and escort they were all superbly mounted, lordlings, knights and chivalry. He could move fast, therefore and make rings around dismounted men.
Hugo, supported by William of Allerdale and others, said that they should go add themselves to the delaying, harassing forces, forming two or three powerful cavalry wedges to bore into and disorganise Stephen's leadership group especially. Who could tell what such determined attacks against a dismounted host might achieve? But David shook his head. Later, perhaps. But first he had another notion. Two hundred men on fast horses should be sufficient . . .
Late February afternoon as it was, with the early dusk settling over the Cheviot foothills, he led this company out and across the Teviot ford, to turn eastwards along the south side of Tweed. Despite the poor light, he maintained a fierce pace, which soon had the two hundred considerably strung out. In only about six miles they were over the unmarked march into Northumbria, at Haddenstank. Fortunately all knew the road well, although it was on the wrong side of the Tweed, a Cheviot drovers' road - otherwise there might have been unfortunate spills. Presently the glow of the hundreds of English camp-fires ahead was lighting up the night sky - but on the other side of the great river. As David had anticipated, they saw no troops on this English side, only the occasional salmon-fishers' hamlet and milling township.
Twenty-five miles, most of it in real darkness, on a frosty night of stars but no moon, will take even expert horsemen almost four hours, so that it was well into the evening before they heard the hollow booming of the Norse Sea breakers before them on the Tweedmouth beach. Slowly now, circumspectly, they rode down to the fishing haven and village. They were directly opposite the defensive town of Berwick-on-Tweed across the half-mile-wide estuary basin. Some lights twinkled from windows there.
Local fishermen, with cold steel held before their eyes, confirmed what David had expected. The English invasion fleet lay out in the sheltered waters of the estuary, at the Berwick side. They were packed tight over there, some seventy vessels all told - although some of the smaller craft used for ferrying men and supplies were lying in at the Hospice haven nearby.
Well enough content, they enquired how many fishing-boats, the typical high-prowed cobles of the Tweed area, were available here, at the boat strand; and were informed just.under a score were there, drawn up on the sand and shingle. That would serve their purpose - say ten men to a boat. Sufficient fishermen were routed out, to row the boats. Leaving the horses under guard, the Scots helped the Tweedmouth men, doubtful as they were, to push the cobles down into the shallows, then piled aboard.
The flotilla pushed off, the creaking of the long sweeps drowned in the steady thunder of the surf on the sand-bar at the estuary mouth. Only one or two faint lights glimmered from what must be the fleet of sea-going ships lying to anchor. Candles and lamp-oil were apt to be too expensive for sailor-men to burn of a night; besides, most of the crews would be ashore in the town's alehouses, the fishermen assured. David and his men anticipated little difficulty.
As the dark hulks of the vessels loomed up, it seemed as though they constituted a solid ba
r
rier, so closely were the craft packed, most inde
ed warped side-by-side. Swiftly
the raiders swarmed up from the cobles to the decks of the larger ships, the more agile going first and aiding their companions. David's orders were simple and clear. Every ship was to be set on fire. There was to be no unnecessary- bloodshed. Only if crewmen resisted actively were they to be maltreated - he had no real quarrel with the shipmen. Whenever each ship was sufficiently alight, one or two men were to be left to see that it continued to blaze, was not extinguished, the rest to move on to the next vessel. With nearly twenty teams often the thing should not be too difficult. Tarred timbers should burn well.
The seizing of the dark, silent fleet was indeed not difficult; but tarry timbers and gear or none, the setting of it all alight was less easy. They found few men aboard, none at all on some craft; and of such as were, most were already in their bunks, asleep or drunken. Only one or two actually showed fight, and these were quickly disposed of. The later ships to be attacked, of course, received some warning, and some of their people may have made their escape either in small boats or merely by-jumping overboard. Anyway, resistance was practically non
-
existent.
But getting major fires started, and then ensuring that these went on to destroy the vessels, was much harder than anticipated, assiduously as all applied flint and tinder. Fires admittedly fairly quickly glowed and flickered all over the fleet; but these seemed notably slow to run together, coalesce and turn into blazing ships. Being a calm
and frosty night there was
little wind to fan the flames. Ships timbers seemed grievously slow to catch. Moreover, presently some proportion of the incendiaries had to break off their efforts to repel boarders in the shape of crewmen from ashore at Berwick, who had seen the fires and come rowing out to their vessels. These did not represent any major challenge to the King's company, for they were mere peaceful seafarers not trained fighting-men - and
largely drink-taken at that. But they further delayed the arson.
However, the Scots did learn, by trial and error, and by using bedding, clothing, broken bunk timber and the like, aided by lamp-oil and pitch where it could be found. And once these smaller fires, shrewdly positioned, did set alight to the tarry timbers, the latter burned strongly and did not die out until wholly consumed.
At length, reasonably satisfied, Dav
id gave orders to return to Twee
dmouth beach. Not every ship would be destroyed, but most of those that
were
not would be unusable for a considerable time. Stephen would not sail back to England in this fleet, that was certain.
The town of Berwick was most evidently awake now and in an uproar, as they rowed back; but that was all to the good and represented no threat. The more panic the better; the more alarming would be the reports hurried along Tweedside to the invading army — which was part of the objective.
Promising the fishermen some silver for their part in the night's activities, David ordered to horse, and led the way back whence they had come, along the south side of the river.
Their night was not yet finished however. At the little-used ford below Twizel, where the Till came in and deposited much silt to shallow the water, some nine miles west, they crossed the river. It was really too deep and swift for use at this time of year, but by holding each other's stirrup-leathers, keeping close to support each oth
er, and gentling their beasts he
edfully, they got over without loss.