A bridge too far - when The Hammer was put to the sword

Instead of attacking immediately, Wallace and Moray waited patiently. They watched as more and more English troops gathered on the north side of the bridge. The English mistook this Scottish restraint for weakness - perhaps even surrender.

The Breezer - the joyride for a curious mind: A weekly newsletter from Steve Winduss at the Batting the Breeze podcast. Spend a few minutes with me discovering historical snippets and fascinating facts related to the forthcoming week. Add to that updates relating to the podcast, a touch of humour and a dash of "lots more". 3rd August 2025.

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Happy Sunday!
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Earlier this week, Scotland welcomed the arrival of Donald Trump. The US President visited his prized golf course, the delightful Turnberry in South Ayrshire, and opened a new course at the Trump International Golf Links in Aberdeenshire, about 180 miles away.
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The new MacLeod Course was named in honour of the President’s mother, Mary Anne Macleod Trump, reflecting his desire to celebrate his Scottish heritage.
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Trump combined rounds of golf with a sprinkle of international relations (who doesn’t?). He hosted UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer to discuss trade, Gaza and Ukraine. Later, EU President Ursula von der Leyen stopped by to sign a framework free trade agreement.

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The President would have also rubbed shoulders with many fiery Scottish nationalists during his stay. These passionate advocates for self-determination have been fighting for independence from England for decades.
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Today’s Scottish nationalists fight their battles in parliament and at ballot boxes. Seven hundred years ago, Scottish nationalism took a different approach - “the only good Englishman was a dead one…”

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Thirty-six miles from Donald Trump’s world-renowned Turnberry Golf Course, nestled about 10 miles west of Glasgow, sits the picturesque village of Elderslie, Renfrewshire. The name itself - meaning “field of elder trees” - evokes the rural character of this area that once formed the heartland of Scotland’s textile industry during the Industrial Revolution.
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While Elderslie’s textile glory may be fading, one memory burns eternal: this is the birthplace of Scotland’s fiercest nationalist, William Wallace.
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Wallace was born in 1270. Life in 13th-century Scotland was tough, often brutal. Most families eked out a living farming the infertile soil. The weather was generally cold and damp (no change there then), the food bland and personal hygiene was an optional extra.
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However, William Wallace was cut from different cloth - he was born into minor nobility. His father, Sir Malcolm Wallace of Elderslie, was killed resisting English rule. William's uncle filled his head with stories of Scottish independence and ancient Celtic warriors.
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​William wielded a sword before he held a quill.

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For centuries, Scotland had been a proud independent nation with its own kings, laws and parliament. But all that changed when the ‘Hammer of the Scots’ came to the English throne in 1272, King Edward I.
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Edward 'Longshanks' was obsessed with destroying the Welsh and Scottish nations entirely to create a British kingdom under English rule. This was medieval ethnic cleansing.
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Between 1277 and 1284, during William’s childhood, Wales was systematically crushed by brutal English military campaigns.​
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Longshanks then set his sights on Scotland.
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​His opportunity arose when the Scottish King Alexander III died after his horse plunged over a cliff during a storm. Alexander’s only heir was his three-year-old granddaughter Margaret, who lived in Norway, but she died crossing the sea to Scotland in 1290.
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​Scotland faced a succession crisis.
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To avoid civil war, the Scots felt compelled to ask Edward I to arbitrate in the appointment of a new king - a bit like asking Vladimir Putin to oversee Ukrainian elections. Probably not a good idea.
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Edward imposed himself as Scottish overlord and chose the malleable John Balliol as king. However, Balliol later defied his master and asserted Scottish independence. Further, he built an alliance with the French in 1295.
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The King of England raged. In March 1296, Edward and his troops stormed Berwick, the Scottish border city on the River Tweed that today lies in England. Thousands of Berwick civilians were massacred. The city was looted and burned.
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​Edward swept northward. ​
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By the Summer of 1296, he had captured Dunbar, Edinburgh, Stirling and Perth. Scotland was humiliated, defeated and oppressed.
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Believing his work was done, Edward left small garrisons in Scotland and returned south to concentrate on the French.
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However, Edward’s brutality had become a rallying cry for proud Scots to rise up against English rule.
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​Andrew Moray led a rebellion in the Highlands while the mighty William Wallace rallied supporters in the south in sufficient numbers to overwhelm the skeletal English defence.
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Wallace’s guerrilla tactics were hurting the English. Edward seethed, but preoccupied with the French, he sent his commanders John de Warenne, 6th Earl of Surrey and Hugh de Cressingham to quell the ‘bandits’.
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​This would be a catastrophic error of judgement.
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​Wallace and Moray had gathered at Stirling Bridge. The bridge sat at the crucial crossing point of the River Forth - the last place upstream where the river was narrow and shallow enough for medieval bridge-building before it widened into a tidal estuary.

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The bridge was the vital gateway between the Scottish Lowlands and Highlands.
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To the east, the River Forth was too wide and the tide too powerful. To the west, Flanders Moss, a massive peat bog, stretched for miles before giving way to the near-impassable Trossachs, an area littered with high mountains, dense forest, lochs and stretches of boggy ground.
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​The English would have to cross at Sterling Bridge.
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​On 11 September 1297, the 10,000-strong English army gathered on the south side of the bridge. Across the river, they could see Wallace and Moray waiting on higher ground.
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The English started to cross the bridge mid-morning. Stirling Bridge was a narrow wooden affair - more walkway than thoroughfare for an army. The English crossed two abreast, and it took hours for half the army to get across.
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The English were slow to realise that if it took hours for half their army to cross the bridge, then they were effectively cut off from the remaining half; retreat would take far too long.
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Furthermore, they were unwittingly penned in between their Scottish opponents and the natural loop of the River Forth.
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Instead of attacking immediately, Wallace and Moray waited patiently. They watched as more and more English troops gathered on the north side of the bridge.
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​The English mistook this Scottish restraint for weakness - perhaps even surrender.
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​Then, when half the English had reached the north side, Wallace gave the signal to attack. The heavy English cavalry became stuck fast in the marshy ground. The lighter Scots charged down from dry ground and routed the English.
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Despite superior equipment and supposedly more professional soldiers, this was a slaughter. Many drowned as they retreated in heavy armour.
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The four thousand English troops on the south side of the bridge fled, with John de Warenne leading the retreat.
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Cressingham was killed in battle. The most hated Englishman in Scotland - Edward’s treasurer in the north - was allegedly flayed as he lay dying, with Wallace reportedly keeping some of his skin for a sword belt.

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Over the next month, Wallace tore through English settlements. With each victory, he gathered more English supplies and weapons and carried them forward to the next battle.
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By Christmas, English control had all but evaporated. They were a laughing stock. Scottish peasants had defeated the mighty English army. William Wallace was now a hero and Scotland’s first military dictator.
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​However, The Battle of Stirling Bridge had sealed Wallace’s fate.
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​For Edward, the issue was now personal. He would reclaim Scotland and bring down his tormentor.
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An unprecedented 25,000-strong army marched on Falkirk in July the following year. Wallace’s men had no chance. The English longbows tore into his forces before he could land a single blow on them. His remaining cavalry fled the scene. The defeat was catastrophic.
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​Wallace’s bubble had burst. He was now an outlaw.
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​Edward placed a massive bounty on William’s head. His face was known across England, Scotland and most of Europe - there was nowhere to hide.
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Wallace remained a fugitive for seven years, continuing guerrilla raids, but his support was fading. The bounty was so high that he feared even his closest supporters. English spies were everywhere.
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The rebel leader was exhausted. One night, he took refuge in a barn near Robroyston, near Glasgow. He was spotted, surrounded and without a struggle, 720 years ago today, 3 August 1305, Wallace handed himself in.
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Wallace received no clemency from Edward. In heavy chains, he was paraded through each town and village in Scotland, pausing each time to be humiliated in his chains. Once in London, his show trial accused him of treason, to which Wallace declared…

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Nonetheless Wallace was found guilty. On 23 August, he would suffer the most brutal execution in English history.
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Edward’s hunger was satisfied, but he had created the perfect martyr. Wallace’s myth would prove immortal, inspiring Scotland to rise up for generations.

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Edward I died of dysentery just short of the Scottish border in 1307, still trying to crush the Scots. Robert the Bruce, who had taken up Wallace’s mantle, defeated Edward II at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314, using many of the guerrilla techniques Wallace had pioneered.
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​In 1320, the English were forced to accept Scottish independence.

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Out of Curiosity

If you ever get the chance to visit Central Scotland, I would urge you to drive to Stirling and visit the Wallace Monument - a 220-foot-high stone defiance to English oppression, built in 1869.
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From here, you can look down over the site where William Wallace routed the English at the Battle of Stirling Bridge. Provided you have enough energy to climb the 246 spiral steps, the views across the Forth Valley are breathtaking.

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Dates with History

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Tomorrow…

By 1845, Australia was no longer a dumping ground for convicts. It was transforming into a sought-after destination for free settlers looking for new life opportunities.
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The Colony of New South Wales, incorporating today’s Victoria, was desperate to attract skilled workers to maintain the momentum of growth across the region.
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By the beginning of August 1845, an 802-ton ‘barque’*, the Cataraqui, was nearing the end of its three-month voyage from Liverpool to Melbourne (actually the Port Phillip District at that time). It carried 367 emigrants and 44 crew.
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​Captain Christopher Finlay was guiding the Cataraqui through the hazardous Bass Strait, the strip of water between Tasmania and mainland Australia - a minefield of unmarked reefs, unpredictable currents and notoriously aggressive weather patterns.
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At 4:30 a.m., 180 years ago tomorrow, 4 August 1845, the Cataraqui was hurled into rocks only 100 yards off Kings Island. The ship listed to port as 300 of the 367 passengers desperately clung to the deck.
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​Twelve hours later, the barque broke in two. Then there were 200.​
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By dawn the following morning, only 30 people were left clinging to the bow. With one last throw of the dice, the helpless individuals launched themselves into the angry sea to try to bridge the hundred-yard gap. As Chief Mate Thomas Guthrie crawled onto the beach, he was reunited with just seven of his crew, only five of whom ultimately survived.
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​Solomon Brown, a 30-year-old labourer, was the sole surviving passenger - his wife and four children had perished.
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The seven survivors spent the next five weeks with host and former convict David Howie, who was living on the island. Five weeks later, the remaining survivors were rescued.
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With support from the Port Phillip District, Howie buried 342 of the victims who had been washed ashore in four mass graves. The tragedy remains Australia’s worst civil maritime disaster.
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Five years ago tomorrow, 4 August 2000, the 175th anniversary of the disaster was marked by the dedication of a ship’s bell with a plaque remembering the 399 who perished, on the site of the largest of the four mass graves.
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The memorial was unveiled by David Howie’s great-granddaughter, Greta Robinson.
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*A barque was a sailing ship with at least three masts, designed for long-distance trade routes.

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Tuesday…

Neil Armstrong, America’s greatest space explorer, was born 95 years ago this Tuesday, 5 August 1930.
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Armstrong’s first job was literally down to earth, working as a groundsman at a local cemetery in Wapakoneta, Ohio.
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He used his wages to pay for flying lessons and obtained his pilot’s licence on his 16th birthday, 5 August 1947, even before he could legally drive a car.
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Neil Armstrong would be catapulted to global stardom on 20 July 1969. At 20:17, just after the lunar module of the Apollo 11 mission touched down on the moon at the Sea of Tranquility, he reported, “…the Eagle has landed.”
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​Six and a half hours later, Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon.​
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Once the euphoria of the 1969 lunar landing had subsided, Armstrong stepped down from NASA to become an unassuming professor of aerospace engineering at the University of Cincinnati, where he remained for eight years.
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The American space pioneer avoided publicity for most of his retirement, preferring to contribute behind the scenes. Forty-three years after taking one giant leap for mankind, Neil Armstrong passed away on 25 August 2012, at the age of 82.

Talk to me...

I receive some wonderful feedback from readers who add colour to the historical snippets that I publish. If you have any thoughts to add to some of today’s topics, or from previous weeks, I’d love to hear from you. Drop me an email at steve@battingthebreeze.com.

Question of the Week

Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales were a revolution of the 1830s and ’40s. Previously, folk stories would be curated and retold. The Brothers Grimm were collectors and republishers of these stories. Andersen was part of a new wave of authors who began writing their own stories.
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However, instead of simple tales with clear-cut heroes and villains delivering moral lessons, Andersen’s stories explored complex emotions. They were as much psychological studies as enchanting fairy tales.
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Andersen wrote The Ugly Duckling, The Mermaid, The Emperor’s New Clothes, Thumbelina, The Princess and the Pea and many more - 151 more to be precise.
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What nationality was Hans Christian Andersen?

And Finally…

Even the most casual royal observer will remember that for decades on various occasions, we were treated to a particular ritual:
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​Queen Elizabeth II would appear on the Buckingham Palace balcony, waving dutifully at the crowds extending up The Mall. Next to her would be husband Prince Phillip, probably Prince Charles, Princess Anne, Prince Edward and - lest we forget - naughty Andrew.
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But there was one more dignitary: a lady, a diminutive figure even smaller than the Queen herself. She would be wearing a pastel coloured outfit with a hat that a colony of bower birds might have assembled after a raid on Harrods.
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The lady never spoke. She just smiled and waved serenely, as if delighted to be anywhere. To the younger generation, this enigmatic figure was a mystery; after all, the title ‘Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother’ was slightly distracting.
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Was she Elizabeth the Queen who happened to be a mother? Elizabeth the Mother who used to be Queen? Or perhaps just Elizabeth the mystery woman who somehow always had the best seat in the house?

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​Elizabeth Angela Marguerite Bowes-Lyon was born 125 years ago tomorrow, 4 August 1900.
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Her exact birthplace remains a mystery to historians; it was definitely somewhere in England, possibly Hertfordshire.
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With a name like that, you won’t be surprised to hear that she was from good Scottish aristocratic stock, the ninth of ten children.
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This was a time when Queen Victoria was still on the throne (just), the Wright Brothers were at the early stages of attempting to defy gravity near Kitty Hawk, and the British Empire ruled the waves.
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When World War I broke out in 1914 on Elizabeth’s 14th birthday, her Scottish home, Glamis Castle, was converted to a convalescent hospital for wounded soldiers.
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Aristocratic life was suspended and she threw herself into tending to patients, comforting the dying and boosting the morale of the living.
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After the war, in July 1920, Lady Elizabeth attended a Royal Air Force Ball at the Ritz Hotel, where she danced with King George V’s second son, Prince Albert.
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Three years later they married in Westminster Abbey. By 1930, the couple had two daughters, Princess Elizabeth, the future Queen Elizabeth II, and Princess Margaret, the future royal rebel and party animal.

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And that could have been the end of the story. King George V died in 1936, passing the throne to his eldest son, Edward VIII. Elizabeth would be destined for a quiet married life as a Duchess, supported by her shy, stammering husband, Albert.
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But Edward had other ideas. In December 1936, he abdicated the throne to marry American divorceé, Wallis Simpson. Albert woke up on the 11th to find himself George VI, king of the world’s largest empire.
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Elizabeth became Queen Elizabeth, the first British-born Queen Consort since Henry VIII’s sixth wife, Catherine Parr, in 1543, 393 years earlier.
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Queen Elizabeth etched her memory into the hearts and minds of British citizens during World War II, which broke out four years later.
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On 13 September 1940, Buckingham Palace was bombed while the royal family were in residence. Elizabeth’s closest advisers suggested that the royal family should flee to Canada for safety.
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Her response was priceless…

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Elizabeth was a national treasure and would remain so after King George VI’s death in 1952. In fact, she would play the role of widow and supporter of the new Queen Elizabeth II for a further 50 years until her death in 2002 at the age of 101.

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​Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother had lived through the entirety of the 20th century, remembered in her latter days for a passion of horse racing and a love for a quiet gin and Dubonnet.
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But behind that happy, smiling, waving exterior, there always remained a lady of steel who had defined the Blitz Spirit all those years earlier.
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​When history came calling, Elizabeth had answered without reservation.

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Thank you for joining me. Have a great week!

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Steve

HOST & CHIEF STORY HUNTER

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P:S: Incidentally, I am always keen to receive your feedback to help me continuously improve this newsletter and the podcast. Just hit reply to this email and...... let it rip! I respond to every email that I receive.

Question of the week… answer

Hans Christian Andersen was born in 1805 in the city of Odense, Denmark, hence he was Danish. Hans died 150 years ago tomorrow, 4 August 1875.