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| James IV of Scotland |
As we saw in part one, James Stewart, the King of Scotland had sought to banish the memory and the guilt of his part in the death of King James III, his father by transforming Scotland. James had been hugely influenced by the renaissance in Europe and sought to bring its influence to Scotland. He has sought to reshape Scotland by making Scots the official language of the court, pushing gaelic to the margins. James had married the daughter of King Henry VII of England and had raised the standing of the English House of Tudor in the eyes of European aristocracy. James was at the peak of his power and authority.
The line between confidence and hubris became a rather thin one for James at this time. Prior to making the decision to make war on the English as part of the Auld Alliance, King James IV received a letter from Anne, the wife of Louis XII of France. In the letter Anne had enclosed one of her rings and asked her:
“..champion to take but three paces into English ground and brake a lance for my sake.”
Tragically it would be a great deal more than a lance that would be broken when James rode into England. As was the way with the rules of chivalry King James gave the English one month’s notice of his intent to invade. The renaissance King went to battle in the same way that he did everything; with the biggest and the best. James had bought the newest weapon of the day, Swiss made pikes measuring over 20 feet in length. He had assembled a massive and very expensive artillery train. James also sent his navy down the English coast and he assembled the biggest army ever assembled in Scotland. Commentators disagree over the exact figure but it ranges from a force around 20000 up to about 60000.
And yet somewhere whispering in the dark there must have been doubts as James was not an experienced warrior. The Spanish Ambassador in the same letter to the King and Queen of Spain, that we looked at in part one, said of James that he was:
“…courageous, even more so than a king should be. I have seen him often undertake most dangerous things….He is not a good captain because he begins to fight before he has given his orders.”
There was a post-battle story that James was haunted by a ghost when he had been praying in Linlithgow that warned him not to go into battle or to accept the requests of a woman (Queen Anne anybody!). Indeed James lingered about in his way down to the battle. He stopped here and there clearly enjoying the status of being a King at the head of well equiped army.
On the English side he faced a wily old warrior who was vastly more experienced in battle and in the ways of war. Thomas Howard, the Earl of Surrey, now 70 years old, had been entrusted by Henry to guard his northern flank and he was determinded to avenge the still hurting English pride after the Battle of Bannockburn, in 1314, when King Robert the Bruce had wiped out what was then the finest military machine in the whole of Christendom.
James and the Scots arrived first and set up at the top of the hill near Flodden in northern England. The English arrived and set up down in the valley and right away old man Howard proved himself a clever foe. He sent a detachment of English troops north as if they were attempting to cut off the Scots supply lines back up to Scotland. King James panicked and charged. As the Scots charged down the hill they were cut to pieces by the waiting English troops. The Swiss pikes were too long for the Scots to use. The arrogance of James was seen in the fact that he had not even given time for the Scots soldiers to practice using their new weapons. James, riding at the front of his army was almost the first to die. Indeed, part of the tragedy of Flodden was that so many of the commanders, the bravest and the best, were killed very quickly at the beginning of the battle. It was said that so many commanders were killed that there was not any leaders to organise a retreat.
Henry VIII of England was, understandably, delighted with Thomas Howard. He rewarded Howard with the upgraded title of Duke and added an item to Howard’s coat of arms: the top half of the Scottish Lion Rampant with an arrow stuffed down its throat.
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| The coat of arms of the Duke of Surrey |
When the news of the defeat reached Scotland there was widespread fear and alarm. Everyone was convinced that a full scale English invasion was going to happen. In readiness the Flodden Wall was built around the city of Edinburgh. Parts of the wall are still visible today.
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| The Flodden Wall in Greyfriars Kirkyard, Edinburgh. |
The invasion never happened. What remained was the death of so many young men that haunted an entire nation for generations to come. It was a tragic and unnecessary end for a genuine renaissance King and yet in some strange way it seems fitting that James who became King in battle would end up dead in battle.
The origins of the song
The origins of the tune possibly date to just after the battle. The first mention of the song is by John Skene sometime around 1615. Skene went around writing down tunes and songs from around Scotland. He wrote the melody down as ‘Flowres of the Forrest.’ Simon Chadwick plays the Skene melody on an old clarsach, which is easily recogisible
here. (Please be patient – the link is a wee bit slow to load.) Over the years there were three versions of the song written to this ancient tune. They were all written by women who lived in the Scottish borders. Interestingly only one version is about the events on Flodden Field. The version that we are interested in was written by Jean Elliot in 1776. The story around the lyrics of the song seems to be about a challenge by Jean’s brother Gilbert, who was himself a songwriter, to write a song about the Battle of Flodden. When it was published by David Herd, Jean did not want to become known as the writer of the song. At the time of its publication many were convinced that the heritage of the song was very old. Robert Burns however was not convinced of this and was determined to find the writer of the words. He was successful but there has been speculation that Jean Elliot might have used some some lyrics that have been linked to the old tune written down by Skene. You can find out more about this history by looking at a very interesting article on the excellent Living Tradition website
here.Whoever wrote the words of the song there is no doubt about the pain, the agony and the loss that is contained within them. In 1513 news of events took a long time to filter their way back to those waiting, nervously for any news. From the Queen down to families of the common soldiers many waited and waited. The song paints a harrowing, awful picture of sadness staining the lives of the folk in the villages and towns of Scotland.
‘I’ve heard them lilting at the yowe-milking, Lasses a-lilting before the dawn o’ day;
But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning;
The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede awae.
We open with an everyday image of a farm with the women, the lasses, taking part in traditional milking songs but now on ilka – each and every road – loaning, the singing has been replaced by moaning.
At buchts in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning
The lassies are lonely and dowie and wae;
Nae daffin’, nae gabbin, but sighing and sabbing Ilk ane lifts her leglin and hies her awae.
In the buchts, the cattle pens, there are no happy young men. All the women are sad and woeful. There is no fun – daffin, no chat – gabbin, only sighing and sobbing. One woman takes her milking pail – leglin and simply goes away.
In hairst, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering;
The bandsters are lyart and runkled and grey; At fair or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching:
The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede awae.
At the harvest – hairst, there are no youths jeering, the harvest lies grizzled. There are no fairs or festivals, no teasing – fleeching, as all the flowers have withered away.
At e’en in the gloaming, nae swankies are roaming ‘Bout stacks wi’ the lasses at bogle to play
But ilk ane sits drearie lamenting her dearie
The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede awae.
Even at nighttime there are no confident, perhaps even arrogant, young men – swankies, playing hide and seek in the haystacks with the women. One woman sits feeling sad remembering her love.
Dule and wae for the order, sent our lads tae the Border!
The English, for aince, by guile wan the day;
The Flowers of the Forest that focht aye the foremost The pride o’ our land, are cauld in the clay.
Grief and woe sent the Scots to the border. The English, for once, by being crafty won the day. The flowers of the forest that fought always the most, the pride of Scotland are cold in the soil.
We’ll hear nae mair lilting at the yowe-milking;
Women and bairns are heartless and wae;
Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning: The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away’.
There is no longer singing at milking. Women and children are broken hearted and full of woe. Sighing and moaning on every field as the flowers of the forest have all withered away.
I will end as I began and leave you with a reprise of Dick Gaughan’s haunting version as well as the traditional lament played on the bagpipes.
