his army. He does not even seem to have
accompanied it, perhaps fearing that personal opposition which was an
insult to a king in those days.

"When these news came to the King of Scotland where he was for the
time, how his lords were taken and had in England, and his army
defaitt, he grew wondrous dollorous and pensive, seeing no good
success to chance him over his enemies. Then he began to remord his
conscience, and thought his misgovernance towards God had the wyte
therof and was the principal cause of his misfortune; calling to
mind how he had broken his promise to his uncle the King of England,
and had lost the hearts of his nobles throw evil counsel and false
flattery of his bishops, and those private counsellors and his
courtiers, not regarding his wyse lords' counsels."

"He passed to Edinburgh," adds the chronicler, "and there remained eight
days with great dollour and lamentation for the tinsell (loss) of his
lieges and shame to himself." Discouragement beyond the reach of mortal
help or hope seemed to have taken hold of the unfortunate King. He saw
himself alone, no one standing by him, his nobles hostile, his people
indifferent; he had vowed that Scotland should not be broad enough to
hold both them and him, but he had no power to carry out this angry
threat. His life had been threatened in mysterious ways; he had lost his
children, his confidence in himself and his fortunes; last and worst of
all, he was dishonoured in the eyes of the world. His army had refused
to advance, his soldiers to fight. He was the King, but able to give
effect to none of a king's wishes--neither to punish his enemies nor to
carry out his promises. He who had done so much for his realm could do
no more. He who had ridden the Border further and swifter than any
man-at-arms to carry the terror of justice and the sway of law--who had
daunted the dauntless Highlands and held the fiercest chiefs in
check--who had been courted by pope and emperor, and admired and feasted
at the splendid Courts of France--he who had been the King of the
Commons, the idol of the people--was now cast down and miserable, the
most shamed and helpless of kings.

There seems no reason why James should have so entirely lost heart.
There had already been moments in his life when he had suffered sore
discouragement and overthrow, yet never had been overcome. But now it is
clear he felt himself at the end of his resources.