Battle of Inverurie (1308) - Lightning War

Lightning War

One by one King Robert knocked out his domestic enemies, beginning with the Balliol party in Galloway. From the south of the country he punched through the English held central lowlands, making his way by the western route through Argyllshire through the Great Glen towards Inverness and the north-east, towards the territory held by Buchan. He had under his command some 3000 men, at least according to a letter sent by the Earl of Ross to King Edward. It's almost certain that Buchan would have been unable to match such a force, but he was saved from immediate destruction when Bruce was overtaken by an unspecified illness, which kept him out of action for a considerable time. During this period much of his army melted away, leaving him with no more than about 700 men by the spring of 1308.

Although Buchan made some attempt to take advantage of the situation by attacking the king's camp at Slioch, his actions were at best desultory and half-hearted. Unfortunately the only accounts we have of the whole campaign in Aberdeenshire are from sources uniformly hostile to Buchan. In John Barbour's narrative he appears especially dim. It is certainly true that his skills as a soldier were at best second-rate, as he allowed the Bruce party to capture castles one by one virtually unmolested. But it also seems to be true that the forces at his disposal, especially his peasant levies, were unreliable, which explains the rapid collapse of his army in the decisive encounter of the northern war.

Read more about this topic:  Battle Of Inverurie (1308)

Famous quotes containing the words lightning and/or war:

    O, better that her shattered hulk
    Should sink beneath the wave;
    Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
    And there should be her grave;
    Nail to the mast her holy flag,
    Set every threadbare sail,
    And give her to the god of storms,
    The lightning and the gale!
    Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. (1809–1894)

    We used to wonder where war lived, what it was that made it so vile. And now we realize that we know where it lives, that it is inside ourselves.
    Albert Camus (1913–1960)