MacDidz: The Scottish Blog

[Didz]

Winter 1100: Nottingham
The first frosts of winter found Edwards army camped outside the walls of Nottingham Castle preparing for the imminent assault. The army was cheered by the news that York had already fallen to Alexander and all looked forward to the plunder which Nottingham would provide, not to mention the warm beds, ale and women.

The army was poised to strike when news reached Edward from his agent, Wallace, that the English had finally stirred themsleves from the Welsh borders and were approaching from the west through the forest of Sherwood.

"Yer can allays trust the damn English ta ruin a good party." cursed Edward "Muster the men, lets teach 'em how we Scots deal wi' gatecrashers.'

The Battle of Nottingham
The area from north to west of Nottingham is one huge forest. The forest of Sherwood was a Royal hunting ground used by the English king and so was preserved from clearance by local peasants and farmers. However, Edward managed to find an area of higher ground which was large enough and clear enough to deploy his army upon.

The way Edward deployed his army was becoming almost a standard for the Scottish king. The infantry formed two lines with the crossbowmen in front and the archers sandwiched between the first and second line, whilst the border horse formed up slightly behind each flank ready to fend off any threat or launch an attack on the enemy reserves.

Scouts soon reported that the English were approaching through the forest to the west and Edward rushed his army forward to deploy across their line of advance, and to allow his crossbowmen a clear field of fire as they emerged from the tree-line.

The English infantry baulk under the heavy fire but the English knights spur forwards and hurl themselves at the Scottish line driving off the crossbowmen and impaling themselves on the wall of lowland spearmen and Irish axemen forming the Scottish first line.

With the English Army now locked in close combat with the Scottish battle line the Border Horse on the flanks of the line sally forth to drive off the English archers.

Fighting is fierce and bloody, the Scottish first line is driven in by shear weight of numbers and Edward is forced to commit his second line to protect his archers.

Finally, the English have had enough and their Knights attempt to extracate themselves from the slaughter.

The English general is either too slow or too brave and is cut down by Scottish spearmen.

Their Captain dead the English lose heart and flee to the South presumably heading for London their last place of refuge. The border horse chivvy them from the field whilst the archers and crossbowmen use them for target practice. The rest of the army began catching their breath and looking for loot or friends amongst the corpses that littered the hillside.

But Edward was looking for the English King. Rufus had not shown his face at the battle, although Edward knew he must be close by. He had deliberately held back his retinue of 62 knights with the intention of preserving it to deal with Rufus and his small retinue of English from Nottingham. The idea of cutting down the English King personally appealed to him and he certainly did not want Rufus to escape back into the city. So now he scanned the tree-line looking for any sign of the skulking monarch.

The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. For instead of Rufus and the small retinue of knights reported by Wallace, what emerged from the tree's and began to march resolutely up the slope towards him was little short of another English army, and an army made up not of peasants and local levies but an army of knights.

"Ta Arms! Ta Arms! Recall the pursuit. Reform the battle-line. Ready the archers."


As the tired and bloody Scottish Army scrambled to face this new threat Edward realised he had been right all along. It had been a trap. The English had lured him here like a fat trout with a juicy worm and now they thought they had him, but something must have gone wrong for the English had been late springing the trap, had Rufus and his knights arrived earlier when the Scots were still struggling with the main English army they would have overwhelmed him. But they had not and so there was just a chance that Edward might still win, if god and St.Andrew was with him. Crossbow bolts began to pepper the ranks of English knights plodding up the slope but with minimal effect, the English just kept coming.

The battles lines clash over the bodies of the fallen from the first battle. Rufus and his personal retinue charge the Scottish centre intent on breaking the line.

The remnants of the Scottish horse attack the English flanks in a futile attempt to break their resolve.

Edward watched the struggling mass of men with growing concern. Everything was now committed to the fight except his own household and the Scottish ranks were gradually being thinned. It was only a matter of time before his men gave way under the pressure.

If he was to win this fight then Edward knew that he would have to risk all on a final roll of the dice, and trust that St. Andrew was holding the dice cup.

He could see the English Royal Standard and knew that Rufus was there in the fight near the centre of the battle. It was time to rip out the heart of this English Army or die trying.

With that he moved his personal retinue of knights around the left of his own battle line and brought them up behind the English centre where Rufus was still struggling to break through the Scottish line. With a final shout of 'Fer Scotland and Saint Andrew, KILL THE BASTARDS' he launched his charger into the midst of the English knights and began hacking his way resolutely towards the Royal Standard and the English King.

Rufus seeing the mass of Scottish knights closing on him from the rear spurred his own horse hard and finally managed to break through the Scottish battle-line and escape abandoning his standard bearer and most of his surviving retinue. Edward attempted to follow but an English spear thrust across his chest made him realise that the English had closed ranks behind their King and pursuit would be suicide. 'SCOTS TA ME! BACK! BACK! He fell back reforming behind the English line whilst the surviving infantry on the hill launched a furious charge into the English spearmen to distract their attention.

The escape of Rufus proved to be shortlived, as the English King attempted to make his way back to his own lines, Edward and his surviving knights having extracted themselves from the tangle of English spears intercepted him and Edward finally had the King v King showdown that he craved. Rufus died his chest pierced by a Scottish lance.

Their King dead the English lost heart and began to fall back down the slope and melt away back into the greenwood from wence they had come.

Pitfully few of the Scottish host survived and of the 62 knights that stood with Edward that morning only 30 now remained, nevertheless it was a victory. The English trap had failed and Rufus had paid for his deception with his life.

Edward wandered the battlefield congratulating his men and surveying the carnage.

"How many did we lose?" he asked.
"As best we can tell six hundred and sixty six, Sire" was the reply.

Edward laughed ironically "Six-hundred and sixty-six, the devils number, if that doesn't convince Pope Gregory that we are on a holy crusade to rid the world of these English devil's then nothing will. Make sure that MacDougall gets that message in Rome, I want the Pope to know what happened here today, and that God was on our side."