My Truth Lies in the Ruins
Berwick on Tweed; ???????text?>30 March 1296
It was a long night for William; he did not sleep, Ellie was restless too with nightmares that woke her just past midnight into Friday morning the third of the kalends of April, five days after Easter. They had shared their love together in the wee hours before dawn; warming their hearts and bodies. Lord Douglas hoped to calm his wife with words of comfort; to hold her close and let her know he would protect her and the children. They spoke together quietly for some time; as she leaned into the strength of his broad chest she told him of her fears. “Something is so wrong here; I can feel a raw chill about my sorry self,” she told him. William could sense it too; an eerie calm seemed to surround them even as the sun rose on Berwick harbor this 30th day of March. “My Ellie, your husband knows your sentiments; our castle stands so mighty but impersonates its strength I fear.” She knew he was suspect of the fortress and its defenses. Gilley feared too that the royal burgh was too difficult to defend adequately; the only barriers to invading armies were the high embankments that surrounded the royal burgh, interspersed with a simple wooden palisade and deteriorating stone walls.
Then suddenly their quiet intimacy was abruptly shattered; Gilley’s squire Patric entered their chamber barely waiting time from the first knock. “English war ships approach, they have moved into the harbor of the Tweed!” he exclaimed. Ellie’s heart was pounding; Ana appeared just behind the squire, running to her side to help dress her lady. William was already changing to his silk cote; he donned a quilted surcote as he barked some orders; “Bring forth my mail hauberk and a coif as well!” he commanded to his squire. The English were attacking; they were at war! “Ana, we must get to the children and their nurses!” cried Ellie. James arrived now in their chamber, “Mother, I have sent the others with their nurses to wait in the withdrawing room as was your plan for emergencies. I chanced a look into the harbor; a wee cog is stuck in the silt of the shoreline,” he told them. “Are the English ships going to attack us?” he asked. “James, your father orders you to stay with your mother and good sisters, with Ana and the others of our household here; protect them with your awareness and good sense,” said William as he buckled on his sword belt. “I will send word if you should move our family to another location for safety; you are assigned with their protection!” declared Lord Douglas to his page and son now ten. James was deeply disappointed but knew obeying his father showed more sense then questioning his words as the tumult of battle approached.
William was in full armaments as he left their chamber; moving swiftly to muster the garrison and devise his plan to defeat the English ships in the harbor. Then as fast as he departed he abruptly re-appeared. He rummaged through his war-chest and pulled out an ornate trumpet, “My oliphant,” he declared with prideful ceremony, taking with him now the ivory horn made from the tusks of the great beast of the same name. Le Hardi had brought the elegant trumpet with its fine carvings and peculiar sounds all the way back from the Crusades; using it successfully in every campaign since he boasted. “We will be led in charge by this fair horn; like our Celtic ancestors, our war-cry sounds in victory when this trumpet signals Douglas men to battle with its deep and frightening roar!” he bellowed heartily. Then turning to James he said he changed his mind, “Follow your father now my son to hear the strategy of the battle plan; then to report back at once to secure the family in the withdrawing room of the castle,” he told the lad respectfully. James’ eyes lit up and he quickly made his way to the great hall in close step with the garrison commander.
Lord Douglas was speaking with two of his sergeants; quickly he told of his intentions. The plan he put before them: assemble eight knights with their squires, making thirty-two armed horse; twenty bowmen would be called out as well with another twenty six armed foot. “With some of Berwick’s good citizens we should be a force of one hundred growing,” growled le Hardi, “leaving more than half the garrison behind to defend the castle or provide us reinforcements should the need of it come.” The strategy for the assault on the English fleet was simple: draw in the other ships at sea to engage the Scots already in assault of their stricken shipmates; staggered in the Tweed, they could not all land at once. It would take time to pull anchor and row towards shore once the decision to attack the Scots was made; if it is made at all.