At this time, a circumstance of rather a curious nature took place. An English nobleman, Sir Robert de Ros, lord of the Castle of Werk, had become deeply enamoured of a Scottish lady, and, influenced by the violence of his passion, he deserted the standard of his country, and went over to the Scots. With the intention of gaining the affections of the object of his desire, he endeavoured to seduce his kinsman, William de Ros, from his allegiance. In this, however, he was unsuccessful; for William, after upbraiding him with his baseness, proceeded to the camp at Berwick to inform Edward of the treason, who furnished him with 1000 men, to garrison the Castle of Werk. Robert, in the mean time, had joined the Scots; and learning that the troops sent by Edward were to quarter the following night at Prestfen, on their way, he procured a body of Scots from Roxburgh, and secretly surrounded the village. To enable his followers to recognise each other, he gave them, as a password, “_Tabard and Surcoat_;”[52] commanding, that whoever named the first of these words, if the person to whom he expressed it did not reply by giving the other, he should instantly kill him. With this understanding they entered Prestfen at midnight, and, setting fire to the houses, surprised and cut off the enemy. Edward, who had now reached Berwick with an army equal in numbers to that of the Scots, and more formidable from its superior discipline, determined to attack the town both by sea and land. His navy was, however, found unequal to the task, and eighteen of his ships were either burnt or disabled. The exasperation[53] which this discomfiture occasioned in the mind of Edward, increased, if possible, the natural ferocity of his temper, and determined him to lead in person his army to the assault.[54] The first attack of the English was repulsed. On the second, a well-concerted stratagem put them in possession of the town, which was given over to pillage, and a frightful and unsparing massacre ensued. Some English writers state, that no less than forty thousand of the inhabitants[55] were immolated, to assuage the wrath of the victor. Wyntown, however, may be considered nearer the truth, when he fixes the amount of the carnage at seven thousand five hundred. Barons and burgesses, nuns and friars, women and children,--_all_ were involved in one indiscriminate and appalling butchery, which continued through the day, and only subsided when the following occurrence rekindled the spark of humanity, which had become extinct in the breast of the unprincipled usurper. “Thus thai slayand ware sá fast All the day, qwhill at the last This Kyng Edward saw in that tyde A woman slayne, and of hyr syde A barne he saw fall out, sprewland Be-syd that woman slayne lyand. ‘_Lasses, Lasses_,’ than cryid he; ‘Leve off, leve off,’ that word suld be.” _Wyntown_, vol. ii. p. 83.