When King Edward, who was used to ostentation and pomp, saw the sober, small and light-armed ranks of the Scots, he was astonished. He could not believe that such a rag-and-bobtail lot as they seemed to be to his luxurious eyes would possibly dare oppose itself to his mighty panoply of armour, mere infantry against the pride of English chivalry. 'What!' he said, 'surely these Scots cannot seriously intend to fight me with such a ragtailed rout?'

'Indeed they do, Sire,' said Sir Ingram de Umphraville, a renegade Scot in Edward's army. 'Yon is the most remarkable sight I have ever seen - a Scottish army at last prepared to give battle in the open instead of making skulking attacks from ambush. I know them, and if you will take my advice, Sire, you will easily win this day. The way to defeat them is suddenly to withdraw, retreat back past our tents as if we had no intention of fighting, and I promise you that you will see that ordered formation break ranks and rush like hungry wolves at our tents to grab the spoil. Then we can round on them and destroy them utterly among the tents.'

'Retreat?' said King Edward, 'As God is my witness no man shall ever say that I shirked battle with such a rabble, or had to use trickery to defeat them.'

As he spoke, he saw all the Scots kneel down devoutly to pray before the coming battle, and King Edward said to Sir Ingram, 'You see, these people are kneeling to beg for mercy!'

'They do indeed, Sire,' said the disgusted Sir Ingram, 'but not from you. I've given you my advice, and I'll tell you now that these men asking mercy from God will win this battle utterly or die in the attempt. You certainly won't frighten them into flight.'

'So be it then,' said the King, 'we'll soon see who knows best.'