Nigel Tranter - The Path of the Hero King

“I will not deny that it displeasures me nothing that it is my lord Clifford’s lands, and those of the Abbey of Lanercost, that we work our purpose on!” And as an afterthought, he added, “I said treasure. Only such treasure as may be carried conveniently.

None must lumber themselves with booty. All else is to be destroyed.

And, I charge you-such treasure is not for your pouches, my friends! But for my Lord Treasurer’s coffers. That our warfare may be maintained.”

Men chuckled at that, and a better temper for the business was engendered.

Bruce went on to make his dispositions. At this stage, the force would split. He would take half, to Lanercost Douglas would lead the rest down to Gillsland itself, and Irthing Priory. They had not unlimited time. But seven hours until sunset. By which all this valley must be destroyed, and themselves over into the next and greater valley southwards-the upper South Tyne. There, seven miles beyond, lay the market town of Haltwhistle, as well as the castles of Bellister, Featherstone, Unthank and Blenkinsopp.

Fleeing men from Gillsland would carry the tale of the her ship of Irthing to these. They must not be given time to muster and prepare.

Haltwhistle, therefore, must be taken before dark, and the castles isolated. Four hours only for the sack of Gillsland and Lanercost, and all on their swift way to Tyne. Was it understood?

“What of English forces from the garrison at Carlisle, Sire?” Campbell asked.

“It cannot be more than a dozen miles from here. And Brampton nearer.

There will be a garrison there?”

“Carlisle is too far to menace us before nightfall. And Brampton will not hold sufficient men to endanger us. That danger will come tomorrow. Today’s is that Haltwhistle and the Tyne will gain warning before we reach them.”

“Sire,” Randolph put in.

“I know this land. I was here, at Lanercost, with King Edward.” Not all men would have admitted that, there and then.

“There is a way through from Irthing to Tyne. Through the hills. A pass, by way of the Tipalt Burn. A small company could hold it, near where the Roman Wall crosses.

And so prevent any flight of folk to the Tyne and Haltwhistle A score of men sent there forthwith would not be wasted. Going round by Thirlwall Common.”

Bruce looked at his nephew thoughtfully.

“Well said,” he nodded.

“You have the sort of head on your shoulders that I need, Thomas. So be it. Yourself take them and place them.” He raised his hand.

“Come, then-enough of words. Now we act, Gibbie — 500 men for me”

So the two squadrons parted to turn, one west, one east, round the north base of Banks Fell, hidden from the unsuspecting Irthing valley.

The dual attack was indeed a complete surprise. As far as Lanercost was concerned, it was not even an attack. Bruce’s party, emerging from the high ground behind the great Hadrian’s Wall, had only a mile to cover in sight of the splendid Abbey, and their breakneck speed gave the Abbot’s guard no time to assemble or even arm. Dispersing three-quarters of his force to deal with the large township of secular and domestic buildings surrounding the establishment, the King, with perhaps a hundred men, dashed up to the Abbey gatehouse, swept aside the dumbfounded porters, and rode into the precincts, calling loudly for the Abbot and Chapter.

His men did not wait for any such formalities.

When the flustered and appalled cleric, a heavy moon faced elderly man, was brought less than gently before the King, still sitting his horse in the wide courtyard, he was given no opportunity for protest, lamentation or plea.

“My lord Abbot-I am Robert of Scotland,” he was told briskly.

“Your abbey has in the past given much comfort to my enemies. Here was plotted my ruin, my death, my kingdom’s devastation.

The time has come for payment. I do not make war on Holy Church, unlike the Kings of England. But your treasure ought to be in heaven, rather than in your vaults! The late Edward, in gratitude, gave you much gold and silver and jewel, I understand.

Plate, chalices, ewers, censers, lamps and the like. Much of it stolen from Scotland. I require it. All, mark you-all. And quickly.”

”But… but… my lord! This is sacrilege! “”It is war, sir. And

retribution. Though not on the Church. On you. You have grown rich on the spoils of Scotland.”

“I… I will not, may not, do it. You will not rob God’s house? I will give you nothing, my lord.”

“Address me as King, Englishman! And if God’s house spills over with stolen treasure, should I respect it? I care not, priest, whether you give or I take. But all in this house is mine now.

Choose you whether to deliver it up decently, or have my men pull your abbey apart to get it.”

The banging and crashing and shouting that sounded from all around did not fail to underline his point. And looking up, the Abbot’s pale prominent eyes widened as he saw the black smoke clouds begin to rise up from behind the precinct walls.

“You already… burn! Destroy!” he cried.

“Only barns, mills, gardens, my lord Abbot. Nothing sacred!

Nothing that a man of God should set store by. But-your gold, now.

Silver. Jewellery. Decide quickly, sir priest.”

“Yes, yes. To be sure, my lord … Majesty. If you will spare the Abbey …”

“As your kings have not done in Scotland! In a hundred miles from my borders I have scarce an abbey, a priory or even a church with a roof to it! With doors to which abbots and monks have not been crucified! But… Sir Hugh. See that no chapels are damaged, no altars misused, no priests hurt. Sir Gilbert-go with my lord Abbot and take delivery of his treasure. All of it. And be not long about it.” Abruptly Bruce reined his horse around and rode to supervise the destruction outside.

In ninety minutes the greatest, fairest establishment north of Durham was transformed utterly. The sacred buildings themselves remained entire, undamaged. But all else was smoking ruin, broken masonry, burning wood, trampled grain and garden and orchard, and the littered steaming car cases of slaughtered beasts. The Scots had had ample practice in the efficient spoiling of lands, their own lands; now they spoiled their enemies’ with a will. In ever widening circles the devastation grew, until even the sun was obscured by the vast rolling pall of smoke which covered the valley of Irthing.

Then Bruce, concerned with timing, and the fact that that smoke would be seen from Brampton, and far farther, called a halt. Detailing a score of men, under a young knight, to parcel up all the rich haul of the Abbey’s treasure in emptied wool-sacks, and take it on a train of captured packhorses quickly and secretly back to Scotland, he assembled his now smoke-blackened followers and headed off up the wide vale towards Gillsland without any leave taking, abandoning Lanercost to its lamentations.

“At least they are alive, to wail!” he commented grimly to the somewhat doubtful Hugh Ross.

It was a westerly wind, and they rode, coughing, in the shroud of their own smoke that poured and billowed eastwards. But very quickly they were into still newer, thicker smoke, ruddy with fires and alive with fleeing folk, stumbling cursing men, sobbing women and wailing children, the sad exodus from blazing Gillsland, stricken to further abject terror and despair at the sight of this new looming host of grim horsemen.

Bruce found Campbell in charge at Gillsland, with Douglas superintending the spoliation of Irthing Priory a mile or so farther up the valley. The comprehensive burning, choking smoke clouds made all a chaotic nightmare, but Sir Neil declared that he thought there was not a single building left unburned in the town, or in a two-mile radius around. Catching and slaying the cattle had been the biggest problem. There had been no opposition worth mentioning.