The Battle of Bannockburn, fought over two days in June 1314, is more than a date in Scottish history; it is the fiery crucible in which the nation’s identity was forged. It is a story of stunning tactical genius, unwavering resolve, and the triumph of the seemingly weak over the mighty. While the strategic brilliance of Robert the Bruce is rightly celebrated, the battle was ultimately won by the men on the ground and the brutal, efficient tools in their hands. To understand Bannockburn is to understand the weapons that shaped its outcome—a fascinating arsenal where humble farm tools and elite knightly steel met in a desperate struggle for Scotland’s future.
On one side stood the army of King Edward II of England: a formidable, professional force considered the superpower of medieval Europe. Its pride was its heavy cavalry—armoured knights mounted on immense warhorses, or destriers. These were the tanks of the medieval world. A knight was a symphony of deadly technology: clad head-to-toe in chainmail reinforced with plate armour (a style called “transitional armour”), he was a terrifying, near-invulnerable figure to a poorly equipped foot soldier. His primary weapon was the lance, a long, stout wooden spear used to devastating effect in a full-tilt charge, designed to punch through shields and armour alike.
If unhorsed or in close quarters, the knight turned to his longsword—a double-edged, cruciform-hilted weapon designed for both cutting and thrusting. For bludgeoning through armour, he might use a mace or war hammer. This heavy cavalry was supported by thousands of infantry, including Welsh longbowmen, who wielded what was, at the time, the most fearsome missile weapon on Earth: the English longbow.
The longbow was not merely a bow; it was a engine of war. Crafted from a single stave of yew, standing over six feet tall, it required immense strength and a lifetime of training to draw. Its arrows, a cloth-yard in length (about 37 inches), could be fired with terrifying speed and accuracy. At ranges up to 200 yards, a volley of longbow arrows could darken the sky and punch through mail armour, decimating enemy formations before they could even engage. This combination of armoured cavalry and massed longbow fire had brought England victory after victory. At Bannockburn, they were confident of another.
Facing this military juggernaut was Robert the Bruce’s Scottish army. They were not a professional force but a national one, drawn from all corners of the realm. They were outnumbered, arguably out-equipped, but they were fighting for their homes and their freedom. Their arsenal was a reflection of their society: pragmatic, adaptable, and brutally effective.
The iconic weapon of the Scots, and the absolute core of Bruce’s strategy, was the pike—or more accurately, the Schiltron. The pike itself was a simple weapon: a long, sharpened wooden shaft, often 12 to 16 feet in length, tipped with a simple steel spearhead. Its power was not in its complexity but in its collective use. Hundreds of men would form a Schiltron, a dense, impenetrable hedgehog of spear points.
This was not a weapon for individual heroics; it was a weapon of discipline and unity. When planted in the ground and angled against a charge, it transformed a group of farmers and townsfolk into a fortress on the move. The Schiltron was Bruce’s answer to Edward’s cavalry. A charging knight might be brave and well-armoured, but his horse was not. No warhorse, no matter how well-trained, would willingly impale itself on a wall of sharpened pikes. The Schiltron neutralised the English army’s greatest asset.
But the Scots were not just a defensive wall. For close-quarters combat, they relied on a variety of weapons. Many carried large, heavy broadswords, simpler and more robust than the knightly longsword, designed for powerful, cleaving blows. The most famous Scottish weapon, the Lochaber axe and later the two-handed great sword or claymore (meaning “great sword” in Gaelic), saw use. These were devastating polearms that could hook riders from their saddles or cleave through armour and bone.
Another critical, though less glamorous, weapon was the ballock knife (or dirk). Every man carried a knife, both as a daily tool and a last-ditch weapon for the desperate, grappling melee that ensued when formations broke.
However, the most symbolic weapon of Scottish independence was the humble spear. It was the pike in the Schiltron, the shorter spear for thrusting, and the javelin for throwing. It was affordable, easy to make, and incredibly effective in the right formation. It was the weapon of the common man, and at Bannockburn, the common man prevailed.
The battle was a masterclass in using terrain and weaponry to negate an opponent’s strengths. Bruce chose the battlefield carefully—a narrow plain flanked by the Bannock Burn and wet, marshy ground. This constricted the English army, preventing their cavalry from launching the wide, flanking charges they relied on and funnelling them towards the Scottish Schiltrons.
The first day saw a famous prelude that set the tone. As the English vanguard advanced, the renowned knight Sir Henry de Bohun spotted Robert the Bruce (identifiable by his crown) inspecting his lines and mounted a solo charge. Bruce, armed only with a light battle-axe and mounted on a smaller palfrey, stood his ground. At the last second, he sidestepped the charge and brought his axe down with such force on de Bohun’s helmet that he split both it and the knight’s skull. This act of individual prowess, using a simple axe against a fully armoured knight, became a legendary morale booster for the Scots.
The main battle on the second day was a story of the Schiltron versus the charge. The English cavalry hurled themselves at the Scottish spear formations again and again, only to be slaughtered. The critical failure of the English was their inability to effectively deploy their longbowmen. The tight terrain and intermingled cavalry charges made it difficult to organise clear volleys. When they did find space to shoot, Bruce’s own reserve light cavalry, led by Sir Robert Keith, routed them, preventing the arrow storm that had won the day at Falkirk years before.
As the English charges faltered and their army became compressed into a helpless mass, Bruce gave the order to advance. The Scottish Schiltrons, once static defensive formations, now became offensive battering rams. They marched forward relentlessly, the forest of pikes driving the English back into the boggy ground of the burn, where knights in heavy armour floundered and drowned. It was at this moment that the Scottish infantry drew their swords, axes, and daggers for the gruesome work of close combat against a trapped and broken enemy.
The weapons of Bannockburn tell the story of the battle itself. The English brought the finest military technology of the age, designed for dominance in an open field. The Scots brought the tools of their land—long wood and sharp steel—wielded with incredible discipline and a burning purpose. The pike, the spear, and the axe, symbols of the common people, proved mightier than the lance and the longbow of the feudal elite. It was a victory not of better steel, but of better will, better tactics, and the profound power of men united behind a simple, effective weapon, standing firm for their freedom.