that at one time, Sir Ingram Umfraville bribed an inhabitant of
Carrick, with his two sons, to kill Bruce. These peasants, knowing
that the king was accustomed at an early hour every morning to retire
for meditation, accompanied by a single page, who carried his bow
and arrows, determined to select such time for the attack. As the
assailants approached, Bruce suspecting their design, took his bow and
arrows from his attendant, bidding him retire to a place of safety,
saying, “If I vanquish these traitors, you will have a sufficiency of
arms, and if I fall, you can flee for you life.”
As the peasants drew near, the king discharged an arrow, which hit the
father in the eye; upon which, the son, brandishing his battle-axe,
rushed to the combat, but missing his blow, he stumbled and fell, and
Robert severed his head in two at one stroke. The third peasant,
with spear in hand, then rushed upon the king, but Bruce cut off the
steel-head of the spear, and laid him also dead at his feet. When the
page approached, he found the king wiping his good sword, while he
remarked, “These would have been three gallant men had they not fallen
victims to covetousness.”
At another time, King Robert was surprised by a party of two hundred
men with bloodhounds. Bruce was accompanied by only two men. The king
was in a most perilous situation, but he stationed himself in a narrow
gorge and despatched his companions in haste for succor. But before his
band of brave Scots arrived, King Robert had slain with his dreadful
sword, fourteen of his enemies, who were found piled up in the gorge,
men and horses above each other.
A party of English, under the command of John Lorn, now determined to
search for the brave Bruce among the mountains of Carrick, where he
was intrenched; and in order to track the valiant Scottish king, Lorn
carried with him a sagacious bloodhound which belonged to Bruce. This
bloodhound proved of great use to Lorn, for it discovered his master by
its scent, and the English pursued him so closely that Bruce divided
his men in small bands and dispersed them, that they might thus more
easily flee. Still being pressed sorely by the relentless foe, Robert
dismissed all his men, each one to look out for his own safety; and
attended only by his foster-brother, who would not leave him, the
brave Scottish king fled, still pursued by five of Lorn’s men, led on
by the bloodhound who tracked his master with sure scent. Meanwhile
the dog was outrun by the five powerful mountaineers, and the king and
his foster-brother at last stood at bay to receive them. Bruce singled
three of these assailants, leaving his companion to combat with two.
As the first approached, the king cleft him through the skull with
one blow of his weapon, and as the other two fell back for a moment,
stunned by this unexpected disaster, Bruce sprang to the assistance of
his foster-brother, whom he saw was in danger, and severing the head
of one of his assailants from his body, he quickly laid his other two
enemies dead, while the fifth was killed by his companion. When the
king graciously thanked his faithful foster-brother for his aid, “It’s
like you to say so,” he replied, “but you yourself slew four of the
five.”
But now the cry of the hound was heard again, for Lorn and his band
were on the trail. The king and his companion hastily entered a small
stream near by, to break the scent of the hound, and as the dog bounded
up and down the banks, having lost all scent of his master, the
foster-brother of King Robert shot him dead with an arrow, from their
retreat in the forest. They then fled in safety from their pursuers,
who gave up the chase. But King Robert had escaped from the bloodhound
only to fall into other dangers. Three freebooters, pretending to be
friends of the Scottish king, joined him and his foster-brother in
their retreat through the forest. Bruce, suspecting these companions,
desired them to walk at some distance before.
“We seek the Scottish king,” said the strangers: “you need not mistrust
us.”
“Neither do I,” replied Robert; “but until we are better acquainted,
you must walk thus.”
When they came to a ruinous hut, where they rested for the night, the
king ordered the strangers to remain at the other end of the room. But
the past fatigues overcoming them, at last Bruce and his foster-brother
fell asleep. The king was roused from his slumbers by the approach of
the three villanous freebooters, with arms in their hands, intent on
his assassination. Robert laid hold of his sword, and stepping heavily
over his foster-brother, to awaken him, he rushed upon the assassins.
After a fierce combat, in which his faithful foster-brother was killed,
Bruce succeeded in overcoming these three villains, and left them dead
on the spot.
It was during these wanderings that Bruce was one day resting in a
ruined hut in the forests. He was lying upon a handful of straw,
and considering whether he should continue this strife to maintain
his right to the Scottish throne, or if it were best to abandon an
enterprise attended with such danger, and seeming at times almost
hopeless, and go to the Holy Land and end his days in the wars with
the Saracens. While thus musing, his attention was arrested by the
movements of a spider on the roof of the hut above his head. This
spider was trying to fix its web on the rafters, and was swinging
itself from one eave to another. The king was amused with the patience
and energy displayed by the tiny insect. It had tried six times to
reach one place, and failed. Suddenly the thought struck the Scottish
monarch, “I have fought six times against the enemies of my country.”
He thereupon resolved that he would be guided in his future actions by
the failure or success of this indefatigable little insect. The next
effort of the spider was successful, and King Robert then determined
that he would make the seventh attempt to free his country, feeling
confident that he should yet achieve the liberty of Scotland. It is
hence esteemed unlucky for a Bruce to kill a spider. Meantime Edward,
the brother of Robert Bruce, and Sir James Douglas had made many
successful raids against the English. They now joined their forces
with those of King Robert, and they then overran Kyle, Carrick, and
Cunningham, which places had been in the possession of the English.
In 1307 Pembroke advanced against Bruce with three thousand men. But
though the Scottish king’s band numbered but six hundred men, they
charged so valiantly with their long Scottish spears, that Pembroke’s
forces were completely routed, and he himself was obliged to flee for
safety to the castle of Ayr. King Edward was so enraged by these events
that he determined to march himself against this bold foe. But the
English king had not proceeded three leagues from Carlisle when death
met him. With his dying breath he ordered his remains to be carried
with the army, and not to be interred until the enemy was conquered. He
had previously caused his son to swear in the most solemn manner, that
when he should die, he would boil his body in a caldron and separate
the flesh from the bones, and having buried the former, the bones were
to be carried with the army to inspire his men with hatred against the
Scots, while his heart was to be taken to the Holy Land. But Edward
II., instead of obeying his father’s dying commands, interred his
body in Westminster; and disbanding the army, the troops returned to
England. The death of Edward I. gave new courage to the Scots. By this
inglorious retreat of the English king, he lost all the advantages
which his father had so dearly purchased for him. Edward Bruce, the
brother of Robert, one of the most chivalrous knights, had conquered
the English in Galloway, taking, in one year, thirteen castles.
Meanwhile, Lord Douglas had recovered his ancient estate of Douglas
from the English and made many conquests.
The north and the south being now reduced to obedience, the united
troops of Bruce and Douglas proceeded to the west to subdue the proud
lord of Lorn. By a series of well-contested engagements in which no
ordinary degree of skill as a general was displayed, and the greatest
personal courage, Bruce succeeded in wresting his much-injured
country from the power of the English. Twice had the king of England
attempted an expedition to reconquer Scotland, but he had returned
without result. The authority of Bruce was rapidly being established
throughout his country. The castles of Perth, Dunbar, and Edinburgh
were in his hands. Many stories are told of his heroic bravery in
these contests, but we can only stop to note the taking of Perth.
This was a strongly fortified garrison. The fortress was enclosed by
a lofty wall and towers, surrounded by a deep moat filled with water,
which set at defiance the efforts of the Scots for several weeks. At
last, King Robert made a feint of raising the siege, struck his tents,
and departed to some distance. But one night, when least expected,
he approached unperceived to the foot of the rampart, and walking up
to his throat in the water, he seized a ladder and mounted to the
wall’s parapet, where he found a Scottish maiden whom the English had
imprisoned, and who had escaped to the top of the wall, but could get
no farther, as the frightful moat surrounded her on all sides.
“It is but now to descend by these corded steps,” whispered Bruce to
the captive maiden, “and I’ll ferry you across this muddy water.”
But the maiden was as brave as she was fair, and knowing that any
delay would risk the taking of the fortress by the brave Bruce, she
heroically answered:—
“Please your Grace, no! Allow me the keeping of your dagger till you
return with further scaling-gear and your valiant band. Thus armed,
I’ll know how to defend myself, and I will watch these enemies till you
return.”
So King Robert, leaving the brave girl as a sentinel upon the parapet,
quickly waded again through the murky waters of the moat, and having
regained his band, reported his experience. Immediately fifty of his
most daring men, selected for their great height, plunged into the dark
waters of the moat, led by the valiant Bruce.
“Saw ye ever the like of that?” exclaimed a French knight who had
lately joined the Scottish patriots. “What shall we say to our lords,
when so worthy a knight and noble a monarch exposeth himself to such
great peril to win a wretched hamlet?”
With this he gaily threw himself into the water, followed by the rest
of the Scottish army. When Bruce again reached the maiden she said,
“The late revellers are now in their slumbers; the watchword with them
is ‘_The Lost Standard._’” The brave maiden then aided the king to
adjust the rope ladders, by which the Scots scaled the wall, one by
one, until a strong force stood at their side. “‘The Lost Standard’
is the word,” said the king; “and now for the citadel!” It was,
indeed, a _Lost Standard_ to the drowsy guards and sleeping revellers.
The fortress was soon taken, and the captives set free. King Robert
afterwards besieged the fortress of Stirling, when the governor, Sir
Philip Mowbray, contrived to make his appeals for succor reach the
English king. Edward roused himself from his natural indolence, and
raised a large army to march against Scotland. The forces of the
English amounted to nearly one hundred thousand men. This brilliant
army, with banners flying and lances glistening in the sunlight,
presented a grand array. Meanwhile, King Robert was concealed in the
forests with an army of only forty thousand men, nearly all on foot,
awaiting the enemy, and preparing barriers to check the onslaught
of the English. On the morning of the 23d of June, 1313, the two
armies met near Bannockburn. The night had been passed in prayer in
the Scottish camp, and in feasting and drunkenness by the English.
At daybreak the young English king was astonished at the good order
observed in the Scottish ranks.
“Do you think they will fight?” he asked of Sir Ingletram d’Umfreville.
Just then the abbot of Inchaffray appeared before the Scottish troops,
holding a crucifix in his hand; all bent their knees with uncovered
heads.
“They are asking for mercy,” cried King Edward.
“Yes, sire,” replied Umfreville, with a bitter smile; “but of God, not
of you, sire. These men will win the battle or die at their posts.”
The sight of the vast English army might well cause the brave hearts
of the small band of Scots to tremble; but with the intrepid Bruce at
their head, they awaited their foes with dauntless courage. So vast
were the English forces, that it is said the country seemed on fire by
the brightness of the shields and burnished helmets gleaming in the
morning light. So vast was the multitude of embroidered banners, of
standards, of pennons, and spears; so apparently endless the crowds of
knights, blazing in their rich-colored and gemmed surcoats; so large
the extent of country occupied by their numerous tents,—that one might
have thought all the warriors of the world were marching against this
handful of valiant Scots. The English had hastened their march and
arrived with some disorder in front of the Scottish army. King Robert
Bruce, with a golden crown on his helmet, was riding slowly before the
line of his troops. As the brave king thus rode along upon his favorite
palfrey, clad in armor and carrying his battle-axe in his hand,
encouraging his men by his calm voice and brave words, the English king
took special note of him, and remarked, “Doubtless yonder solitary
rider is of the foe, although he is almost as nigh to our front as to
that of the rebels. Canst tell, Sir Knight, of what account he is, and
wherefore this manœuvre?”
“My liege,” replied Sir Giles d’Argentine, to whom King Edward had
spoken, “he who yonder marshalleth the Scottish host was once my
frequent associate, and is well known to me, as I clearly descry from
the jewelled diadem which glittereth on his helmet. It is none other
than Bruce himself.”
“If it is the arch-traitor Bruce,” exclaimed Edward, “I marvel that no
knight amongst you all is brave enough to challenge so audacious a foe.”
Whereupon Sir Henry Bohun, mounted on a magnificent war-horse, came
dashing against the Scottish monarch, whose small palfrey seemed an
ill match for so strong and large a steed. “See! the foeman coucheth
his lance and pusheth at full speed against his victim, who recklessly
advanceth, and now doth take his stand motionless as a rock, awaiting
the onset of his enemy. Breathlessly the Scots and English watch the
two combatants. On comes the impetuous Bohun. Surely some half score
more plunges of the superb animal that bears him will unhorse the
hero-king, unless unwonted presence of mind, nimbleness of movement,
and dexterity of arm shall save him from the onrush of the powerful
horse and gleaming spear. But the gallant Bruce has risen in his
stirrups, and as his enemy rushes upon him, the lance is driven aside
by the sweep of his strong arm, and the battle-axe, wielded with rare
dexterity, stops not in its swing of meteor-like speed till down it
falls upon the helmet of his foe with such true aim and mighty force
that the weapon shatters the helmet and fractures the skull of Sir
Henry Bohun, whose fiery steed bears his dead body back to the English
ranks. Bruce returned slowly to his forces, and while some of his
friends surrounded him, reproaching him for so rashly risking his life,
the Scottish hero laughingly answered, while looking sorrowfully at his
notched axe, ‘See! I have spoiled my good battle-axe.’”
[Illustration: “SEE! I HAVE SPOILED MY GOOD BATTLE-AXE.”]
The battle was commenced by the English at the order of King Edward.
The shock of the first charge of the English cavalry was terrible;
and as they were received on the spears of the Scottish infantry, the
crash was heard at a great distance, and many English knights were
dashed from their saddles by their furious steeds, which had been
stabbed by the invincible spears of the Scots. The centre division,
under the gallant Randolph, stood in a steady body to receive the
charge of the English. These compact squares of the Scottish army were
well calculated to break the masses which were opposed to them, and
they suffered only from the arrows of the archers. The English cavalry
charged with the greatest impetuosity, and endeavored to pierce through
the phalanx of the Scottish spearmen; but they received them like a
wall of iron, while the English receded from the shock like broken
waves which had spent their fury on the rocks. When both armies joined
battle, the great horses of England rushed upon the Scottish lances as
if upon a thick wood, and one mighty sound arose from the breaking of
the lances, the shock of falling horsemen, and the shrieks of the
dying. The knights sang their war-cries, and rushed on to the charge.
Groom fought like squire, and squire like knight, and yet Scotland’s
lion waved proudly over her bands, while the English banners rose and
fell, and many of them were dyed in blood. At last the English began
to hesitate. “They fly! they fly!” cried the Scots. Just then the camp
followers of the Scottish army, who had been posted on an adjacent
hill, excited by the ardor of the struggle, began to descend in a mass
towards the field of battle. The English imagined themselves about
to be attacked by a fresh army, and began a disorderly retreat. Upon
which Robert Bruce charged valiantly with his reserves, and quickly
decided the fate of the day. The earl of Pembroke seized the bridle of
King Edward’s horse and dragged him away from the battle-field. Sir
Giles d’Argentine accompanied his king out of danger, and then rode
back fearlessly amidst the conflict, exclaiming, “It is not my custom
to fly!” This brave knight was cut down by the Scots. The victory was
complete. The fortress of Stirling surrendered immediately. The earl
of Hereford, who had shut himself up in Bothwell castle, offered to
capitulate, and was exchanged for the wife, daughter, and sister of the
king of Scotland, who had been imprisoned in England for several years.
Thus had the independence and freedom of Scotland been obtained by the
brave Bruce and his dauntless little band of patriot warriors. The
swords of those who fought at Bannockburn were hung up in the halls of
their descendants, and handed down to modern times as trophies of the
liberty and independence which they achieved. The beneficial effects
of this signal victory secured forever the independence of Scotland;
and when the two kingdoms were afterwards united, Scotland received
equal rights with England, and the national church of Scotland, with
her universities and schools, were guaranteed to the people of Scotland
forever. This famous battle taught the Scottish nation a lesson which
it never forgot: that a phalanx of Caledonian spears, wielded by brave
and disciplined men on foot, was superior to all the vaunted chivalry
of the most renowned cavaliers. In 1327 King Edward II. of England
was dethroned, and his young son was crowned in his place. The young
prince was but fifteen years of age. Scotland had been recovering from
her misfortunes under the firm and wise government of Robert Bruce.
The independence of that kingdom had been acknowledged by England. The
crown jewels, which had been formerly seized by Edward I., had been
returned, and the little princess Joan, who was betrothed to David, the
young son of Robert Bruce, had been taken to Berwick, accompanied by
the queen-dowager of England and a splendid retinue of attendants. The
marriage was soon after celebrated with great magnificence. Englishmen
and Scots, who for half a century had met only as foes upon the
field of battle, were now joined in friendly courtesies through this
marriage. King Robert’s wife Elizabeth had died before she saw this
happy termination of the long hostilities.
The Scottish king did not long survive these events. He was seized with
a severe complaint, then supposed to have been leprosy, which at length
proved fatal. When upon his death-bed he called around him his earls
and barons, and commended to their care his young son David; and the
prince was thereupon crowned king of Scotland. Robert Bruce, having
settled the affairs of his kingdom and throne, summoned to his bedside
his brave and faithful friend and gallant knight, Sir James Douglas,
and entreated him to take his heart from his body after death, and
have it embalmed, and carry it to the Holy Land, and leave it there
in the Holy Sepulchre, in obedience to a vow he had made. “When I was
hard beset,” said the dying king, “I vowed to God that if I should
live to see an end of my wars and Scotland free, I would raise the
sacred standard against the enemies of my Lord and Saviour. But as I
cannot myself accomplish this vow, I know no knight more worthy for the
mission of bearing the heart of King Robert of Scotland to the Holy
Land.” To this affecting request Lord Douglas replied, with tears in
his eyes, “Ah, most gentle and noble king! A thousand times I thank
you for the great honor you have done me in making me the bearer of
so great and precious a treasure. Most faithfully and willingly, to
the best of my power, shall I obey your commands.” Then the dying king
answered,—
“Now praised be God! for I shall die in peace, since I am assured, by
the faith you owe to your God and the order of knighthood, that the
best and most valiant knight of my kingdom has promised to achieve for
me that which I myself could never accomplish.”
Thus died Robert Bruce, king of Scotland, in the fifty-fifth year of
his age and the twenty-fourth of his reign. His remains were deposited
in the church of Dumfermline, where he was enshrined under a rich
marble monument from Paris. The censures of excommunication pronounced
by the Pope having been removed some time before, the religious
services at his burial were performed by many prelates and bishops.
Many years afterwards his tomb was opened, and the lead in which his
body had been wrapped was found twisted into the shape of a rude
crown, covered with a rich cloth of gold, which had been thrown over
it. It was ascertained that the breast-bone had been sawn asunder in
order to fulfil his request of taking out his heart; but that proud
form, before which the king of England had trembled on his throne, had
crumbled into dust. Robert Bruce, king of Scotland, is one of the most
exalted warriors to be found in those early times. The virtues of his
character were formed, and acquired their bright polish, in the school
of adversity. One of the early writers says of him, “If any one should
undertake to describe his individual conflicts and personal success,
those courageous and single-handed combats in which, by the favor of
God and his own great strength and courage, he would often penetrate
into the thickest of the enemy, now becoming the assailant and cutting
down all who opposed him, at another time acting on the defensive,
and escaping from inevitable death,—if any writer shall do this, he
will prove, if I am not mistaken, that he had no equal in his own time
either in knightly prowess or in strength and vigor of body.” The
true greatness of Robert Bruce appeared in his humanity, moderation,
and pity for the sufferings of others, which led him in the hour of
victory to be generous to his prisoners even though he had suffered
such bitter wrongs at the hands of his English foes. His manners were
kingly and engaging, his disposition singularly gentle, courteous,
and without selfishness. Yet he was high-spirited, and full of noble
energy and enthusiasm. In person he was tall and well proportioned,
being five feet ten inches high. His shoulders were broad, his chest
capacious, and his limbs powerful and possessing marvellous strength.
He possessed an open and cheerful countenance, shaded by short curled
hair. His forehead was low, his cheek-bones strong and prominent, with
a wound on his lower jaw. Though the expression of his face was usually
pleasing and kindly, he could assume a look of stern, kingly dignity,
which awed his enemies, and gained him the necessary respect due to his
rank and commanding position as Scotland’s king, and also her bravest
and most valiant knight. He was one of the most successful military
leaders of the age. Well may Scotland boast of her brave Robert Bruce,
the most famous of all her rulers, the deliverer of her enslaved
people, the upholder of her liberty, her hero-king and most chivalrous
knight!
FERDINAND V. OF SPAIN.
1452-1516 A.D.
“Every monarch is subject to a mightier one.”—SENECA.