Macbeth the King (56 page)

"If I am engaged in battle with Malcolm deep in Lothian, that would serve little," the King said. "We must not again waste our strength in hurrying from one side of the land to the other, exhausting our people so that they do not fight at their best."

"I agree," Glamis said. "I say that the King must remain here. At the centre. With the Normans and heavy cavalry. But my lord of Buchan has the rights of it also. We should not wait to be assailed, but attack first. That can only be across Forth. Let him lead our main strength south into Lothian. Leaving the Forth crossing well guarded behind him. Seek out and destroy Malcolm, if he can. But be ready to retire quickly behind Forth again if need be—for he could be outflanked by a landing from ships on the shores of Fife."

"Aye—that is best," Lachlan declared. "And what of you, my lord Constable? What will you be doing?"

"If His Highness is here, at Dunsinane, to marshal and direct the men from north and west as they come in, there is no need for me. I can take a smaller horsed force into the middle of Fife. To be prepared to strike at the north shore or the south, should there be a sea-borne landing. Or both."

"So we are split into three again," MacBeth commented. It went against the grain for him to be allotted a waiting role, at the centre, like a spider in its web, whilst others took the active parts. Yet he saw the sense of such disposition. "This of Fife is well thought of. But I will head that force. We may have to move fast and far. You, old friend, will remain here at Dunsinane, to deal with the incoming troops and hold the centre."

"As you will..."

"Now—as to Lachlan's strategy, with the main host." It was important that the headstrong Mormaor of Buchan be given fairly definite instructions, as a royal command, lest he overstretch himself, for he was an excellent captain but un-proven as a general. "Once across Forth at Stirling—if you achieve that—what do you propose?"

"They say that Malcolm sits at Linlithgow on the Avon. When he hears of our crossing, he will march north. I would plan that we should seek to meet him at Ecclesbreac, where the great Tor Wood comes close and would hide us. Yet there is a good killing-ground for horse in the plain below."

"The Tor Wood is good, yes. But further north than Eccles-breac there is the mouth of the Carron Water, where it enters the Forth amongst marshes and mud-fiats. If you were to use that, with the eastern skirts of the wood, you would protect your flank in case you had to make hasty retiral on Stirling Bridge again."

"It is not my intention to have to make hasty retiral, Highness! On this occasion."

"More experienced commanders than you have had to do so, my lord. You must be prepared to do so, always. Or I must find another to command this host."

The other was silent, jaw out-thrust.

"You may not be defeated, yet require to withdraw nevertheless. Or I may send for you in
my
haste and need. Is it understood?"

So the details were thrashed out, deputy commanders chosen and preparations to move made. Lachlan, with Martacus and Colin of Mearns, would march for the Forth valley with the majority of the troops assembled at Dunsinane, just as soon as their own hosts from Mar and Buchan arrived and were briefly rested. MacBeth would send part of the Moray and Ross contingents after them, and the remainder he would take to Fife. Such shipping as was available in the Tay would sail at once. And Glamis would organise this base at Dunsinane, hold a small reserve and despatch oncoming troops where most required.

It was the Eve of Saint Lawrence the Martyr, 1057.

* * *

MacBeth chose a position on the high summit ridge of the East Lomond Hill, directly above Falkland in Central Fife—or Fothrif, as this western half of Fife was called. There he established his look-outs, while encamping his mobile force of some 600 light horsemen in a more sheltered hollow behind the crest. They were considerably nearer to the Forth, or Scottish Sea, here, than to the Tay, of which, high as they were, they could see only glimpses; but the King judged that there was more likelihood of a sea-borne attack at this side, to aid any move by Malcolm. He did plant another look-out post on Dunbog Hill however, about eight miles to the north, across the Howe, which overlooked the Firth of Tay, and from which smoke-signals would inform him of any activity there. The view from the Lomond ridge was extensive, magnificent

Southwards, across the gleaming firth, all Lothian lay spread, green and fertile, to the serried ranges of the Pentland, Moorfoot and Lammermuir Hills. Westwards, beyond Fothrif, the Ochils seemed to merge into the mighty Highland peaks of Lennox and Strathearn. And eastward, the estuary widened until it was lost in the illimitable plain of the Norse Sea, island-strewn near its mouth and fringed by golden beaches of sand on both sides. It was all too distant to be able to observe troop movements in Lothian, but any approach by sea would be entirely obvious.

It was pleasant to laze up there in the warm August sunshine, with the bees loud amongst the burgeoning bell-heather, the larks shouting and war and invasion seemingly but evil dreams. But on the second morning dark smoke-clouds billowing up from the north-western parts of Lothian indicated men at their grim work and battle joined in some stage between Lachlan's forces and Malcolm's. It brought the watchers back to reality, if this was needed.

In the event, the northern outpost on Dunbog Hill was not required, for soon after mid-day a great fleet of sail was beginning to be evident at the mouth of the Scottish Sea, coming from the south. And presently this vast concourse of ships could be seen to be splitting up, half turning westwards into the firth, half continuing northwards on the open ocean. So MacBeth's fears and assessments were confirmed. The land thrust was to be aided by landings from both firths. He sent riders to warn Lachlan, whoever was holding the Stirling crossing, and Cormac of Glamis.

The question now was one of priorities. 600 men was too small a force to divide effectively. At this stage the Forth landing was probably the most dangerous, since it could cut off Lachlan's army. Moreover the northern fleet would take some hours longer to reach the Tay, twenty-five miles further, and then to sail another twenty-five miles up its estuary to where landings would be most effective. So the first priority was to try to deal with the southern landing, and then, hopefully, to race north to aid Glamis cope with the other.

The King's tactics, of course, were founded on the temporary vulnerability of armies landing from shipping on enemy territory. If he could allow such landing to start and then descend upon it unheralded, a major defeat might be inflicted. So his next priority was secrecy of approach.

Unfortunately he could not be sure that the landing would be on the north or Fife shore. If it proved to be on the south, he could do nothing about it. But while a southern landing might be effective enough in getting behind Lachlan and cutting him off, it would still leave the enemy on the wrong side of the vital Stirling crossing. Moreover, this fleet could scarcely km w of Lachlan's present sally into Lothian; it would have left Northumbria before any such news could have reached there. The King was fairly confident, therefore, that the landing would be made on the north shore, to outflank the defenders of Stirling's bridge and causeway, and then to link up with the Tay invasion. And he reckoned that it would be made as far up-river as was practical without being obvious to the Stirling defenders.

With the enemy ships crossing the widest part of the Scottish Sea, between Largo Bay on the north and Aberlady Bay on the south, MacBeth led his mounted forces westwards, still on the Lomond high ground but hidden from the coastal plain by the ridge, until they could safely turn southwards, down to the King-lassie area of the Leven valley. But he left scouts on the summit ridge, to watch the fleet's progress. At the Leven, one of these brought word that the English were still sailing up-firth, and nearer to the north shore than the south. He had counted between thirty and forty ships. The other scouts were still following the enemy progress, along the high ground above the coast.

The 600 now sped south-westwards. MacBeth was heading for Clach Mannan, on the western verge of Fothrif, where there was the viewpoint allied to cover which he needed. They rode between Lochs Leven and Ore, keeping to the south of the Cleish Hills and so into the wide valley of the Black Devon, via the Saline Water, all this well inland. As the Black Devon turned southwards, towards its junction with the Forth, ii so happened that the latter's north shores sank away to the wide flats and marshlands of Kennet, providing no cover from view for a mounted force. But out of these flats rose the hog's-back ridge of Mannan, named from an early Christian saint from Ireland; who had made his cell there. It was not a high ridge, but it offered a mile-long barrier and vantage-point. Keeping close to the Black Devon bank, the riders could reach this unseen from the estuary, and approach behind the ridge to only a mile or so from salt water.

Past the little cashel of Saint Mannan and the village which had grown up round it, with its black
clach
or Stone of Mannan, they mounted the escarpment, MacBeth praying that, with all this long riding, they were not too late.

Dismounting, the King crept up to the summit, to peer over, and caught his breath at what he saw. There, little more than a mile away, was the enemy, a long column of ships of all sorts, strung out along the narrow channel, covering a couple of miles perhaps. They were still moving upstream, but slowly now. And looking towards the head of the line, MacBeth grunted. Westwards, beyond the mouth of the Black Devon, the estuary changed character notably, becoming a river indeed, taking a great loop southwards and its course becoming part-filled with large sand-islands. At the neck of the loop was the little township of Alueth, a fishing community connected with the Saint Mannan monastery. Here the leading English ships were clearly moving in, to land.

It was, to be sure, a well-chosen spot. It was only four miles east of Stirling, yet was hidden therefrom by the great bend of the Forth as well as by the rising ground of Tullibody. The banks here were of shelving sand and not mud, as now prevailed elsewhere. And the great loop of the river would enable many ships to unload at one" time, close together, not stretched far down the estuary.

Someone in the occupying forces in Lothian, perhaps Malcolm himself, had been using his wits.

MacBeth, nodding to himself, switched his gaze to the hinterland, searching its features and tactical possibilities closely, eagerly. He decided that if the English could use Alueth, so could he.

Hurrying back to his men, the King remounted and led them off westwards again, behind the ridge. They forded the Black Devon before it reached the mud-flats, and cantered across the mile or so of sloping grassland pastures, still hidden from the Forth, to the woodland behind Alueth.

Selecting a viewpoint just within the trees, MacBeth, Luctacus and other lieutenants, surveyed the scene. The landing was in progress all round the U-shaped loop, although some of the ships still waited, unable to find a space, others double-berthed and their soldiers crossing the intervening vessels to the shore. It was not possible accurately to gauge numbers, but they reckoned that there must be 2000 men there, at least. The land enclosed by the loop was only some 300 yards wide but over half-a-mile long, and it was rapidly filling up with men, arms, armour and the stores being unloaded.

It was obvious that there was little time to be lost. Tactics would be elementary, could be nothing else. They would form iwo wedges of 250 each, under father and son, and charge down the narrow tongue of land as nearly side-by-side as was possible, at the tip to swing right and left to turn back and beat up the two shores. The remaining hundred would come along behind, not as a wedge but forming a broad front across the tongue, to prevent any break-out, moving more slowly, mopping up, killing. No elaborate instructions were necessary.

Dividing his people into these three companies, MacBeth drew his sword and slashed it down and forward over his garron's head, as he had done so often before. With a sudden great shout the Scots surged forward.

It was a complete surprise, a complete rout, a massacre, nothing more nor less, with a little chivalry, no quarter, no respite. The Northumbrians were not yet organised into any sort of formation, their leaders still superintending the disembarkation, arms still stacked, armoured tunics largely un-donned on account of the heat. Worst of all for them, there was no room for defensive manoeuvre, or much movement of any sort, the crush too dense to sec signals or to hear commands, all penned in that narrow space between the river-banks. Not all were landed yet, and there was utter confusion, with some pushing out from the ships and others pushing back aboard for safety. The entire pack of distracted humanity was helpless before the charging, trampling horses and the flailing swords and battle-axes.

All was over in an incredibly short time, with no need for the Scots to re-form and repeat their charges. It seemed scarcely possible that thousands of men could die so quickly. Not all died, of course. Many managed to get back to their vessels, many leapt into the water and some of these reached the ships. Some few may have escaped as fugitives inland, many wounded would feign dead and so survive. But all who remained trapped on that spit of land between the river-banks fell and remained fallen.

There was chaos, too, amongst the shipping, with no evident over-all command surviving. As the disaster overtaking the landed force became obvious, most vessels pulled out into the already congested waters of the river, the resultant disorder indescribable. Those which were unable, because of the crush, to draw away, were quickly boarded and captured by the Scots.

Despite the speed of their victory, MacBeth permitted no delay, no lingering. He was preoccupied now with the thought of the Tay section of this fleet and what it might be achieving. The Firth of Tay was shorter than that of the Scottish Sea and the Forth estuary. Time was of the essence. Ordering the captured ships to be set on fire, and leaving only a small party to see to the wounded, he sent off messengers to inform the guardians of the Stirling crossing, and Lachlan of Buchan, of the situation, and forming up his now jaded company, led it off north by east at such speed as he could impose.