Henry published a manifesto in which he declared that his nephew had been the aggressor. He claimed for the Tudors the crown of the Stuarts. He resented as bitterly as ever the wound received at York; and the vengeance which he reckoned on taking was to be cruel, memorable, and revolutionary. The energy of the uncle was as conspicuous as the feebleness of the nephew; and when James wrote again with all _naïveté_, ‘I love you,’ Henry replied savagely, ‘I hate you.’ Norfolk, impatient to avenge the retreat from Halidon, determined to make an inroad into Scotland before the whole of the army was mustered. He therefore marched from Berwick, at the northeastern extremity of England, ravaged the country districts, took several unimportant places, got himself into various scrapes, and announced that he should immediately appear at Edinburgh. But within eight or ten days after passing the Borders he withdrew. He had merely paid an unceremonious visit, preliminary to one official and in state. [Sidenote: MUTINY OF THE SCOTS.] Meanwhile James was putting himself into a position to receive that visit gallantly, and was assembling his army before Edinburgh. He had there about twenty thousand men, besides ten thousand more on the frontier, under the command of the earl of Huntley. But dissension prevailed in his camp. There were some who cared little for the old doctrine, but who were eager above everything to break the iron yoke of the cardinal. Others there were, attached to the Douglases and the Anguses, who were in the English army, and who had no mind to fight against them. Others, again, feeling the inferiority of the Scottish army, steadily insisted that they ought to remain strictly on the defensive. On a sudden, the Scots encamped at Fala learnt that for want of supplies the English were retreating on the Tweed. James, who was easily excited, immediately called together his lords, and exclaimed, ‘Forward! follow me into England!’ His words were received in a gloomy silence. ‘We are ready, sire,’ said some of the lords to him, ‘to risk life and whatsoever we have to defend your person and your realm, but we do not see any sufficient reason for invading England. Our provisions are spent, our horses wearied; and as for ourselves, we have so long been absent from our homes, that we think it high time to return.’ James dissembled his chagrin, and even assumed an air of approval of the discretion of his lords. But he trembled to see his kingly authority trampled under foot by his subjects. He was plainly master no longer. His subservience to the priests had ruined him. The nobles and the common soldiers, instead of falling upon the English, returned every man to his own home, and the king, abandoned and left almost alone, consumed by the profound vexation which was gradually wearing him away, returned mournfully to Edinburgh.