"Thou art idle, maiden; wherefore not gather thy robes and other gear
together, as thy companions? Knowest thou not in twenty-four hours we
shall be, heaven willing, safely sheltered under the holy wing of St.
Duthac?" was Queen Margaret's address to Agnes, about a week after the
conversation we have recorded. There were many signs of confusion and
tokens of removal in her scanty train, but the maiden of Buchan stood
apart, offering assistance when needed, but making no arrangements for
herself.
"I seek not such holy keeping, may it please you, madam," she replied.
"I do not quit this castle."
"How!" exclaimed Margaret. "Art thou mad?"
"In what, royal madam?"
"Or hath love blinded thee, girl? Knowest thou not Hereford and
Lancaster are advancing as rapidly as their iron-clad force permits, and
in less than seven days the castle must be besieged in form?"
"I know it, madam."
"And thou wilt brave it, maiden?--dare a danger that may be avoided? Is
thy life of so little worth, or if not thy life, thy liberty?"
"When a life is wrapt up in one--when there is none on earth save that
one to whom that life is of any worth, wherefore should I seek safety
save by his side? Royal madam, I am not mad nor blind; but desolate as
I am,--nay, were I not 'twould be the same--I covet to share Sir Nigel's
fate; the blow that strikes him shall lay me at his side, be it in
prison or in death. My safety is with him; and were the danger ten times
as great as that which threatens now, I'd share it with him still."
"Nay, thou art but a loving fool, Agnes. Be advised, seek safety in the
sanctuary; peril cannot reach us there."
"Save by the treachery of the dark-browed earl who grants that shelter.
Nay, pardon me, madam; thou lovest not to list that theme, believing him
as honorable and faithful as thyself. God grant he prove so! If," she
added, with a faint smile, "if it be such mad folly to cling to a
beloved one in danger as in joy, in adversity as in triumph, forgive me,
royal lady, but thy maidens have learned that tale of thee."
"And would to God I could teach them thus again!" exclaimed the queen,
tears coursing down her cheeks. "Oh, Agnes, Agnes, were Robert here, not
death itself should part us. For my child's sake, for his, I go hence
for safety. Could my resting, nay, my death benefit him, Agnes, I would
meet it, weak as thou deemest me."
"Nay, nay, I doubt it not, my queen," answered Agnes, soothingly, "It is
best thou shouldst find some place of repose till this struggle be past.
If it end in victory, it will be joy to hail thee once again within its
walls; if otherwise, better thy safety should be cared for."
"But for thee, my child, is it not unmaidenly for thee to linger here?"
"It would be, royal madam," and a bright vivid flush glowed on her pale
cheeks, "but for the protection of the Lady Seaton, who will not leave
her husband."
"I may not blame her, after mine own words," said the queen,
sorrowfully; "yet she is one I could have wished beside me. Ha! that
trumpet. Merciful heaven! is it the foe?" and trembling with alarm, she
dispatched attendant after attendant to know the cause.
The English force was known to be so near that many a warrior-heart beat
quicker at any unusual blast, and it was not marvel the queen's terrors
should very often affect her attendants. Agnes alone, amid the maiden
train, ever retained a calm self-possession; strange in one who, till
the last eventful year, had seemed such a very child. Her mother
trembled lest the turmoils and confusion of her country should ever
approach her or those she loved; how might she, timid, nay; often
fearful, weak, and yielding, as the flower on the heath, how might she
encounter storm, and grief, and care? Had her mother's eye been on her
now, and could have followed her in yet deeper trials, that mother
scarce had known her child.
She it was whose coolness enabled her easily to recognize and explain
the trumpet's blast. It was an officer with an escort from the Lord of
Ross, informing the queen that, from late intelligence respecting the
movements of the English, he deemed it better they should not defer
their departure from the castle another night.
On the receipt of this message all was increased hurry and confusion in
the apartments of the queen. The advice was to be followed on the
instant, and ere sunset the litters and mules, and other accommodation
for the travellers, waited their pleasure in the outer court.
It was with a mien of princely dignity, a countenance grave and
thoughtful, with which the youthful seneschal attended the travellers to
the great gate of the castle. In after years the expression of his
features flashed again and again upon those who looked upon him them.
Calmly he bade his sister-in-law farewell, and bade her, should she be
the first to see his brother, tell him that it was at her own free will
and pleasure she thus departed; that neither advice nor persuasion on
his part had been used; she had of her own will released him from his
sacred charge; and if ill came of it, to free his memory from blame.
"Trust me, Nigel; oh, surely you may trust me! You will not part from me
in anger at my wilfulness?" entreated Margaret, as clinging to his arm,
she retained him a few minutes ere he placed her in the litter.
"In anger, my sweet sister, nay, thou wrongest me!" he said, a bright
smile dispersing a moment the pensive cast of his features. "In sorrow,
perchance, for I love not him to whose care thou hast committed thyself;
yet if ill await this castle, and thou wert with me, 'twould enhance its
bitterness. No, tis better thou shouldst go; though I would it were not
to the Lord of Ross."
"And wherefore?" demanded the deep stern voice of the officer beside
him.
"Because I doubt him, Archibald Macfarlane," sternly replied the young
nobleman, fixing his flashing eyes upon him; "and thou mayst so inform
him an thou wilt. An I do him wrong, let him deliver the Queen of
Scotland and her attendants in safety to King Robert, in the forthcoming
spring, and Nigel Bruce will crave forgiveness for the wrong that he
hath done him; nay, let his conduct give my doubts the lie, and I will
even thank him, sir."
Turning on his heel, he conducted the queen to her litter, and bade a
graceful farewell to all her fair companions, bidding good angels speed
them on their way. The heavy gates were thrown back, the portcullis
raised and the drawbridge lowered, and amid a parting cheer from the
men-at-arms drawn up in the court in military homage to their queen, the
cavalcade departed, attended only by the men of Ross, for the number of
the garrison was too limited to admit of their attendance anywhere, save
within and on the walls.
With folded arms and an anxious brow, Sir Nigel stood beside the gate,
marking the progress of the train; a gentle voice aroused him. It
playfully said, "Come to the highest turret, Nigel, there thou wilt
trace their path as long as light remains." He started, for Agnes was at
his side. He drew her arm within his own, briefly gave the command to
close the gate and make all secure, and turned with her in the direction
of the keep.
"Have I done right," he said, as, when they had reached a more retired
path, he folded his arm caressingly around her, and drew her closer to
him, "to list thy pleadings, dearest, to grant thy boon? oh, if _they_
go to safety, why did I listen to thee and permit thee to remain?"
"Nay, there is equal safety within these walls, Nigel. Be assured, thine
Agnes hath neither regret nor doubt when thou art by her side," she
answered, still playfully. "I love not the sanctuaries they go to seek;
the stout hearts and trusty blades of warriors like thee and thine, my
Nigel, are better and truer safeguards."
"Alas! Agnes, I fear me not in cases such as these. I am not wont to be
desponding, but from the small number of true men which garrison this
castle, I care not to acknowledge I had loved better to meet my foe on
open ground. Here I can scarce know friend from foe; traitors may be
around me, nay, in my very confidence, and I know it not."
"Art thou not infected with Queen Margaret's suspicions, Nigel? Why
ponder on such uneasy dreams?"
"Because, my best love, I am a better adept in the perusal of men's
countenances and manners than many, and there are signs of lowering
discontent and gloomy cowardice, arguing ill for unity of measures, on
which our safety greatly rests. Yet my fancies may be wrong, and at all
hazards my duty shall be done. The issue is in the hands of a higher
power; we cannot do wrong in committing ourselves to Him, for thou
knowest He giveth not the battle to the strong, and right and justice we
have on Scotland's side."
Agnes looked on his face, and she saw, though he spoke cheerfully, his
thoughts echoed not his words. She would not express her own anxiety,
but led him gently to explain to her his plan of defence, and prepare
her for all she might have to encounter.
Five days passed, and all within and without the walls remained the
same; the sixth was the Sabbath, and the greater part of the officers
and garrison were assembled in the chapel, where divine service was
regularly read by the Abbot of Scone, whom we should perhaps before have
mentioned as having, at the king's especial request, accompanied the
queen and her attendants to Kildrummie. It was a solemn yet stirring
sight, that little edifice, filled as it was with steel-clad warriors
and rude and dusky forms, now bending in one prayer before their God.
The proud, the lowly, the faithless, and the true, the honorable and the
base, the warrior, whose whole soul burned and throbbed but for his
country and his king, the coward, whose only thought was how he could
obtain life for himself and save the dread of war by the surrender of
the castle--one and all knelt there, the workings of those diverse
hearts known but to Him before whom they bent. Strangely and mournfully
did that little group of delicate females gleam forth amidst the darker
and harsher forms around, as a knot of fragile flowers blooming alone,
and unsheltered amidst some rude old forest trees, safe in their own
lowliness from the approaching tempest, but liable to be overwhelmed in
the fall of their companions, whom yet they would not leave. As calmly
as in his own abbey the venerable abbot read the holy service, and
administered the rites of religion to all who sought. It was in the deep
silence of individual prayer which preceded the chanting of the
conclusion of the service that a shrill, peculiar blast of a trumpet was
heard. On the instant it was recognized as the bugle of the warder
stationed on the centre turret of the keep, as the blast which told the
foe was at length in sight. Once, twice, thrice it sounded, at irregular
intervals, even as Nigel had commanded; the notes were caught up by the
warders on the walls, and repeated again and again. A sudden cry of "The
foe!" broke from the soldiers scattered round, and again all was
silence. There had been a movement, almost a confusion in some parts of
the church, but the officers and those who had followed them from the
mountains neither looted up nor stirred. The imperative gesture of the
abbot commanded and retained order and silence, the service proceeded;
there might have been some faltering in the tones of the choir, but the
swelling notes of the organ concealed the deficiency.
The eye of Agnes voluntarily sought her betrothed. His head was still
bent down in earnest prayer, but she had not looked long before she saw
him raise it, and lift up his clasped hands in the evident passionate
fervor of his prayer. So beautiful, so gloriously beautiful was that
countenance thus breathing prayer, so little seemed that soul of earth,
that tears started to the eyes of Agnes, and the paleness of strong
emotion over-spread the cheek, aye, and the quivering lip, which the war
and death-speaking trumpet had had no power to disturb.
"Let me abide by him, merciful Father, in weal or in woe; oh, part us
not!" she prayed again and yet again, and the bright smile which now
encircled his lips--for he had caught her glance--seemed an answer to
her prayer.
It was a beautiful, though perhaps to many of the inmates of Kildrummie
a terrible sight, which from the roof of the turret now presented itself
to their view. The English force lay before them, presenting many a
solid phalanx of steel, many a glancing wood of spears. Nor were these
all; the various engines used in sieges at this time, battering-rams,
and others, whose technical names are unfortunately lost to us, but used
to fling stones of immense weight to an almost incredible distance;
arbalists, and the incomparable archer, who carried as many lives as
arrows in his belt; wagons, heavily laden, with all things necessary
for a close and numerous encampment--all these could be plainly
distinguished in rapid advance towards the castle, marking their path
through the country by the smoke of the hamlets they had burned. Many
and eager voices resounded in various parts of the castle; numbers had
thronged to the tower, with their own eyes to mark the approach of the
enemy, and to report all they had seen to their companions below,
triumphantly or despondingly, according to the temper of their minds.
Sir Nigel Bruce and Sir Christopher Seaton, with others of the superior
officers, stood a little apart, conversing eagerly and animatedly, and
finally separating, with an eager grasp of the hand, to perform the
duties intrusted to each.
"Ha! Christine, and thou, fair maiden," exclaimed Sir Christopher,
gayly, as on turning he encountered his wife and Agnes arm-in-arm. "By
mine honor, this is bravely done; ye will not wait in your tiring-bower
till your knights seek ye, but come for information yourselves. Well,
'tis a goodly company, is't not? as gallant a show as ever mustered, by
my troth. Those English warriors tacitly do us honor, and proclaim our
worth by the numbers of gallant men they bring against us. We shall
return the compliment some day, and pay them similar homage."
His wife smiled at his jest, and even felt reassured, for it was not the
jest of a mind ill at ease, it was the same bluff, soldier spirit she
had always loved.
"And, Nigel, what thinkest thou?"
"Think, dearest?" he said, answering far more the appealing look of
Agnes than her words; "think? that we shall do well, aye, nobly well;
they muster not half the force they led me to expect. The very sight of
them has braced me with new spirit, and put to ignominious flight the
doubts and dreams I told thee had tormented me."
Movement and bustle now pervaded every part of the castle, but all was
conducted with an order and military skill that spoke well for the
officers to whom it was intrusted. The walls were manned; pickaxes and
levers, for the purposes of hurling down stones on the besiegers,
collected and arranged on the walls; arms polished, and so arranged that
the hand might grasp them at a minute's warning, were brought from the
armory to every court and tower; the granaries and storehouses were
visited, and placed under trustworthy guards. A band of picked men,
under an experienced officer, threw themselves into the barbacan,
determined to defend it to the last. Sir Nigel and Sir Christopher
visited every part of the outworks, displaying the most unceasing care,
encouraged the doubting, roused the timid, and cheered and inspired the
boldest with new confidence, new hope; but one feeling appeared to
predominate--liberty and Scotland seemed the watchword of one and all.
Onward, like a mighty river, rolled the English force; nearer and
nearer, till the middle of the second day saw them encamped within a
quarter of a mile from the palisades and outworks raised on either side
of the barbacan. Obtaining easy possession of the river--for Sir Nigel,
aware of the great disparity of numbers, had not even attempted its
defence--they formed three distinct bodies round the walls, the
strongest and noblest setting down before the barbacan, as the principal
point of attack. Numerous as they had appeared in the distance, well
provided with all that could forward their success, it was not till
closer seen all their strength could be discovered; but there was no
change in the hopes and gallant feelings of the Scottish officers and
their men-at-arms, though, could hearts have been read, the timidity,
the doubts, the anxious wishes to make favorable peace with the English
had in some of the original garrison alarmingly increased.
Before, however, any recourse was made to arms, an English herald,
properly supported, demanded and obtained admission within the gates, on
a mission from the Earls of Hereford and Lancaster, to Sir Christopher
Seaton, Sir Nigel Bruce, and others of command. They were summoned to
deliver up the castle and themselves to their liege lord and sovereign,
King Edward; to submit to his mercy, and grace should be shown to them,
and safe conduct granted to all those who, taking refuge within the
walls and adopting a position of defence, proclaimed themselves rebels
and abettors of rebellion; that they should have freedom to return to
their homes uninjured, not only in their persons but in their
belongings; and this should be on the instant the gates were thrown
open, and the banner of England had taken the place of that of Scotland
now floating from their keep.
"Tell thy master, thou smooth-tongued knave," burst angrily from the
lips of Sir Christopher Seaton, as he half rose from his seat and
clenched his mailed hand at the speaker, and then hastily checking
himself, added, in a lower tone, "Answer him, Nigel; thou hast eloquence
at thy command, I have none, save at my sword's point, and my temper is
somewhat too hot to list such words, courteous though they may be."
"Tell your master, sir herald," continued Nigel, rising as his colleague
flung himself back on his seat, and though his voice was sternly calm,
his manner was still courteous, "tell them they may spare themselves the
trouble, and their followers the danger, of all further negotiation. We
are Scottish men and Scottish subjects, and consequently to all the
offers of England we are as if we heard not. Neither rebels nor abettors
of rebels, we neither acknowledge the necessity of submitting ourselves
to a tyrant's mercy, nor desire the advantage of his offered grace.
Return, sir herald; we scorn the conditions proposed. We are here for
Scotland and for Scotland's king, and for them we know both how to live
and how to die."
His words were echoed by all around him, and there was a sharp clang of
steel, as if each man half drew his eager sword, which spoke yet truer
than mere words. Dark brows and features stern were bent upon the herald
as he left their presence, and animated council followed his departure.
No new movement followed the return of the herald. For some days no
decisive operation was observable in the English force; and when they
did attack the outworks, it was as if more to pass the time than with
any serious intent. It was a period of fearful suspense to the besieged.
Their storehouses were scarcely sufficiently provided to hold out for
any great length of time, and they almost imagined that to reduce them
to extremities by famine was the intention of the besiegers. The
greatest danger, if encountered hand to hand in the _mêlée_, was
welcome, but the very idea of a slow, lingering fate, with the enemy
before them, mocking their misery, was terrible to the bravest. A daring
sally into the very thickest of the enemy's camp, headed by Nigel and
his own immediate followers, carrying all before them, and when by
numbers compelled to retreat, bearing both booty and prisoners with
them, roused the English from their confident supposition that the
besieged would soon be obliged to capitulate, and urged them into
action. The ire of the haughty English blazed up at what seemed such
daring insolence in their petty foe. Decisive measures were resorted to
on the instant, and increased bustle appeared to pervade both besiegers
and besieged.
"Pity thou art already a knight, Nigel!" bluffly exclaimed Seaton,
springing into his saddle by torchlight the following morning, as with a
gallant band he was about dashing over the drawbridge, to second the
defenders of the barbacan and palisades. "How shall we reward thee, my
boy? Thou hast brought the foe to bay. Hark! they are there before me,"
and he spurred on to the very centre of the _mêlée_.
Sir Nigel was not long after him. The enemy was driven back with fearful
loss. Scaling-ladders were thrown down; the archers on the walls, better
accustomed to their ground, marking their foes by the torches they
carried, but concealed themselves by the darkness, dealt destruction
with as unerring hand as their more famous English brethren. Shouts and
cries rose on either side; the English bore back before the sweeping
stroke of Nigel Bruce as before the scythe of death. For the brief space
of an hour the strife lasted, and still victory was on the side of the
Scots--glorious victory, purchased with scarce the loss of ten men. The
English fled back to their camp, leaving many wounded and dead on the
field, and some prisoners in the hands of the Scots. Ineffectual efforts
were made to harass the Scots, as with a daring coolness seldom
equalled, they repaired the outworks, and planted fresh palisades to
supply those which had fallen in the strife, in the very face of the
English, many of them coolly detaching the arrows which, shot at too
great distance, could not penetrate the thick lining of their buff
coats, and scornfully flinging them back. Several sharp skirmishes took
place that day, both under the walls and at a little distance from them;
but in all the Scots were victorious, and when night fell all was joy
and triumph in the castle; shame, confusion, and fury in the English
camp.
For several days this continued. If at any time the English, by
superiority of numbers, were victorious, they were sure to be taken by
surprise by an impetuous sally from the besieged, and beaten back with
loss, and so sudden and concealed were the movements of Nigel and
Seaton, that though the besiegers lay closer and closer round the
castle, the moment of their setting forth on their daring expeditions
could never be discovered.
"Said I not we should do well, right well, sweet Agnes," exclaimed
Nigel, one night, on his return from an unusually successful sally, "and
are not my words true? Hast thou looked forth on the field to-day, and
seen how gloriously it went? Oh, to resign this castle to my brother's
hands unscathed, even as he intrusted it; to hold it for him, threatened
as it is!"
He smiled gayly as he spoke, for the consciousness of power was upon
him--power to _will_ and _do_, to win and to retain--that most blessed
consciousness, whether it bless a hero's breast or poet's soul, a
maiden's heart or scholar's dream, this checkered world can know.
"I did look forth, my Nigel, for I could not rest; yet ask me not to
tell thee how the battle went," she added, with a faint flush, as she
looked up in his noble face, beaming as it was with every feeling dear
to the heart that loved, "for I traced but the course of one charger,
saw but the waving of one plume."
"And thou didst not fear the besiegers' arrows, my beloved? Didst stand
in the shelter I contrived? Thou must not risk danger, dearest; better
not list the urgings of thy noble spirit than be aught exposed."
"There was no danger, Nigel, at least there seemed none," she said. "I
felt no fear, for I looked on thee."