The army that mustered under Edward was indeed 'very fair and great,' yet, in the eye of the Church--probably enlightened by later events--there was one needful thing lacking. When Edward I. was on the warpath towards Scotland, says the Lanercost chronicler, 'he was wont to visit on his way the saints of England--Thomas of Canterbury, Edmund, Hugh, William, Cuthbert--and to offer them fair oblations, to commend himself to their prayers, and to dispense large gifts to the monasteries and the poor'; but his degenerate son, omitting these pious duties,' came with great pomp and circumstance, took the goods of the monasteries on his route, and, it was stated, did and said some things to the prejudice and injury of the saints,' by reason whereof 'certain religious of England prophesied' that no good would come of the expedition. To the same effect, Robert of Reading records that Edward permitted his troops, on their march, to ravage with violence the patrimony of 'religious' and other churchmen, as if they had been robbers (_more prædonum_). Still the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Durham, rehearsing the long list of Bruce's alleged enormities, officially enjoined all within their jurisdiction to pray for the success of the King's arms, offering an indulgence of forty days in reward of such patriotic piety. The King was in high spirits over the splendour of his army. Apparently he anticipated an easy and complete triumph. He started from Berwick only a few days before the fateful day of St John. 'From day to day,' says the Monk of Malmesbury, 'he hastened to the place fixed on beforehand, not like a man leading an army to battle, but rather as if he were going on pilgrimage to Compostella. Short was the stay for sleep; shorter still the stay for food; in consequence of which the horses, horsemen, and foot were worn out by labour and fatigue.' On Friday, June 21, the English army lay at Edinburgh; and on Saturday it lay at Falkirk, little more than ten miles from Stirling.