The King's Blood Hound
The only other event which occurred throughout the winter was the
arrival of a fishing boat with a messenger from one of the king's
adherents, and the news which he brought filled them with sorrow
and dismay. Kildrummy had been threatened with a siege, and the
queen, Bruce's sisters Christine and Mary, his daughter Marjory,
and the other ladies accompanying them, deemed it prudent to leave
the castle and take refuge in the sanctuary of St. Duthoc, in Ross
shire.
The sanctuary was violated by the Earl of Ross and his followers,
and the ladies and their escort delivered up to Edward's lieutenants
and sent to England. The knights and squires who formed the escort
were all executed, and the ladies committed to various places
of confinement, where most of them remained in captivity of the
strictest and most rigorous kind until after the battle of Bannockburn,
eight years later. The Countess of Buchan, who had crowned Bruce
at Scone, and who was one of the party captured at St. Duthoc,
received even fouler treatment, by Edward's especial orders,
being placed in a cage on one of the turrets of Berwick Castle so
constructed that she could be seen by all who passed; and in this
cruel imprisonment she was kept like a wild beast for seven long
years by a Christian king whom his admirers love to hold up as a
model of chivalry.
Kildrummy had been besieged and taken by treachery. The king's
brother, Nigel Bruce, was carried to Berwick, and was there hanged
and beheaded. Christopher Seaton and his brother Alexander, the
Earl of Athole, Sir Simon Fraser, Sir Herbert de Moreham, Sir David
Inchmartin, Sir John Somerville, Sir Walter Logan, and many other
Scotchmen of noble degree, had also been captured and executed,
their only offence being that they had fought for their country.
In all the annals of England there is no more disgraceful page than
that which chronicles the savage ferocity with which King Edward
behaved to the Scottish nobles and ladies who fell into his hands.
The news of these murders excited the utmost fury as well as grief
among the party at Rathlin, and only increased their determination
to fight till the death against the power of England.
The spring was now at hand, and Douglas, with Archie Forbes and
a few followers, left in a boat, and landed on the Isle of Arran.
In the bay of Brodick was a castle occupied by Sir John Hastings
and an English garrison. The Scots concealed themselves near the
castle, awaiting an opportunity for an attack. A day or two after
their arrival several vessels arrived with provisions and arms for
the garrison. As these were being landed Douglas and his followers
sallied out and captured the vessels and stores. The garrison of
the castle made a sortie to assist their friends, but were driven
in with slaughter, and the whole of the supplies remained in the
hands of the Scots, causing great rejoicing to the king and the
rest of the party when a few days later they arrived from Rathlin.
Bruce now proposed an immediate descent upon Carrick, there, in the
midst of his family possessions, to set up his banner in Scotland.
The lands had been forfeited by Edward and bestowed upon some of
his own nobles. Annandale had been given to the Earl of Hereford,
Carrick to Earl Percy, Selkirk to Aymer de Valence. The castle of
Turnberry was occupied by Percy with three hundred men. Bruce sent
on his cousin Cuthbert to reconnoitre and see whether the people
would be ready to rise, but Cuthbert found the Scots sunk in
despair. All who had taken up arms had perished in the field or
on the scaffold. The country swarmed with the English, and further
resistance seemed hopeless. Cuthbert had arranged to light a beacon
on a point at Turnberry visible at Lamlash Bay in Arran, where the
king, with his two hundred men and eighty-three boats, awaited the
sight of the smoke which should tell them that circumstances were
favourable for their landing.
Cuthbert, finding that there was no chance of a rising, did not
light the bonfire; but as if fortune was determined that Bruce
should continue a struggle which was to end finally in the freedom
of Scotland, some other person lit a fire on the very spot where
Cuthbert had arranged to show the signal. On seeing the smoke the
king and his party at once got into their boats and rowed across
to the mainland, a distance of seventeen miles. On reaching land
they were met by Cuthbert, who reported that the fire was not of his
kindling, and that the circumstances were altogether unfavourable.
Bruce consulted with his brother Edward, Douglas, Archie, and his
principal friends as to what course had better be pursued. Edward
declared at once that he for one would not take to sea again; and
this decision settled the matter.
The king without delay led his followers against the village
outside the castle, where a considerable portion of the garrison
were housed. These were assailed so suddenly that all save one
were slain. Those in the castle heard the sounds of the conflict,
but being unaware of the smallness of the assailant's force, did
not venture to sally out to their assistance.
Percy, with his followers, remained shut up in the castle, while
Bruce overran the neighbouring country; but an English force under
Sir Roger St. John, far too powerful to be resisted, advanced to
Turnberry, and Bruce and his followers were obliged to seek refuge
in the hills. Thomas and Alexander, the king's brothers, with Sir
Reginald Crawford, had gone to the islands to beat up recruits, and
returning in a vessel with a party who had joined them, landed at
Loch Ryan. They were attacked at once by Macdowall, a chieftain
of Galloway, and routed. The king's brothers, with Sir Reginald
Crawford, were carried to Carlisle severely wounded, and delivered
over to King Edward, who at once sent them to the scaffold.
These wholesale and barbarous executions saddened the Scots, and,
as might be expected, soon roused them to severe reprisals. Bruce
himself, however, although deeply stirred by the murder of his
three brothers and many dear friends, and by the captivity and
harsh treatment of his wife and female relatives, never attempted
to take vengeance for them upon those who fell into his hands,
and during the whole of the war in no single instance did he put a
prisoner to death. He carried magnanimity, indeed, almost to the
extent of impolicy; for had the nobles of England found that those
of their number who fell into Bruce's hands suffered the penalty
of death, which Edward inflicted upon the Scotch prisoners, they
would probably have remonstrated with the king and insisted upon
his conducting the war in a less barbarous and ferocious fashion.
Sir James Douglas was so stirred by the murder of the three Bruces and
so many of his friends and companions, that he resolved henceforth
to wage an exterminating war against the English, and by the recapture
of his own stronghold, known as Castle Douglas, began the series
of desperate deeds which won for him the name of the Black Douglas,
and rendered his name for generations a terror among the English on
the Border. The castle had been conferred by Edward on Sir Robert
de Clifford, and was occupied by an English garrison. Douglas
revealed his intention only to Archie Forbes, who at once agreed
to accompany him. He asked leave from the king to quit their hiding
place for a time, accompanied by Archie, in order to revisit Douglas
Hall, and see how it fared with his tenants and friends. The king
acquiesced with difficulty, as he thought the expedition a dangerous
one, and feared that the youth and impetuosity of Douglas might lead
him into danger; before consenting he strongly urged on Archie to
keep a strict watch over the doings of the young noble.
Accompanied by but one retainer, the friends set out for Douglasdale.
When they arrived there Douglas went to the cottage of an old and
faithful servant named Thomas Dickson, by whom he was joyfully
received. Dickson went out among the retainers and revealed to such
as could be most surely depended upon the secret of their lord's
presence, and one by one took them in to see him. The friends
had already determined upon their course, and the retainers all
promised to take part in the scheme. They were not numerous enough
to assault the castle openly, but they chose the following Sunday
for the assault. This was Palm Sunday and a festival, and most of
the garrison would come to the Church of St. Bride, in the village
of the same name, a short distance from the castle.
Dickson with some of his friends went at the appointed time, with
arms concealed under their clothes, to the church; and after the
service had commenced Douglas and some of his followers gathered
outside. Unfortunately for the plan, some of those outside set
up the shout, "A Douglas!" prematurely before the whole party had
arrived and were ready to rush into the church. Dickson with his
friends at once drew out their arms and attacked the English; but
being greatly outnumbered and for a time unsupported, most of them,
including their leader, were slain. Sir James and his followers then
fought their way in, and after a desperate fight all the garrison
save ten were killed.
The party then proceeded to the castle, which they captured without
resistance. Douglas and his companions partook of the dinner which
had been prepared for the garrison; then as much money, weapons,
armour, and clothing as they could carry away was taken from the
castle. The whole of the vast stores of provisions were carried
into the cellar, the heads struck out of the ale and wine casks,
the prisoners were slain and their bodies thrown down into the mass,
and the castle was then set on fire. Archie Forbes in vain begged
Douglas to spare the lives of the prisoners, but the latter would
not listen to him. "No, Sir Archie," he exclaimed; "the King of
England held my good father a prisoner in chains until he died;
he has struck off the heads of every one of our friends who have
fallen into his hands; he has wasted Scotland from end to end with
fire and sword, and has slain our people in tens of thousands. So
long as this war continues, so long will I slay every prisoner who
falls into my hands, as King Edward would slay me did I fall into
his; and I will not desist unless this cruel king agrees to show
quarter to such of us as he may capture. I see not why all the
massacreing and bloodshed should be upon one side."
Archie did not urge him further, for he too was half beside himself
with indignation and grief at the murder of the king's brothers
and friends, and at the cruel captivity which, by a violation of
the laws of sanctuary, had fallen upon the ladies with whom he had
spent so many happy hours in the mountains and forests of Athole.
Douglas and Archie now rejoined the king. For months Bruce led
the life of a hunted fugitive. His little following dwindled away
until but sixty men remained in arms. Of these a portion were
with the king's brother in Galloway, and with but a handful of men
Bruce was lying among the fastnesses of Carrick when Sir Ingram
de Umfraville, with a large number of troops sent by the Earl of
Pembroke from Edinburgh, approached. Wholly unable to resist so
large a force, Bruce's little party scattered, and the king himself,
attended only by a page, lay hidden in the cottage of a peasant.
The English in vain searched for him, until a traitorous Scot went
to Umfraville and offered, for a reward of a grant of land to the
value of 40 pounds annually, to slay Bruce.
The offer was accepted, and the traitor and his two sons made their
way to Bruce's place of concealment. As they approached, Bruce
snatched his bow from his page and shot the traitor through the
eye. One son attacked him with an axe, but was slain with a blow
from the king's sword. The remaining assailant rushed at him with
a spear; but the king with one blow cut off the spearhead, and
before the assailant had time to draw his sword, stretched him
dead at his feet. After this the king with his adherents eluded
the search of the English and made their way into Galloway. The
people here who were devoted to the English cause determined to hunt
him down, and two hundred men, accompanied by some blood hounds,
set off towards the king's retreat; but Bruce's scouts were on
the watch and brought him news of their coming. The king with his
party retired until they reached a morass, through which flowed a
running stream, while beyond a narrow passage led through a deep
quagmire.
Beyond this point the hunted party lay down to rest, while the
king with two followers returned to the river to keep watch. After
listening for some time they heard the baying of the hounds coming
nearer and nearer, and then, by the light of a bright moon, saw
their enemies approaching.
The king sent his two followers to rouse the band. The enemy,
seeing Bruce alone, pressed forward with all haste; and the king,
knowing that if he retired his followers would be attacked unprepared,
determined alone to defend the narrow path. He retired from the
river bank to the spot where the path was narrowest and the morass
most impassable, and then drew his sword. His pursuers, crossing
the river, rode forward against him; Bruce charged the first, and
with his lance slew him; then with a blow with his mace he stretched
his horse beside him, blocking the narrow passage. One by one his
foes advanced, and five fell beneath his blows, before his companions
ran up from behind. The Galloway men then took to flight, but nine
more were slain before they could cross the ford.
The admiration and confidence of Bruce's followers were greatly
aroused by this new proof of his courage and prowess. Sir James
Douglas, his brother Edward, and others soon afterwards returned
from the expeditions on which they had been sent, and the king
had now 400 men assembled. This force, however, was powerless to
resist an army of English and Lowland Scots who marched against
him, led by Pembroke in person. This force was accompanied by John,
son of Alexander MacDougall of Lorne, with 800 of his mountaineers.
While the heavy armed troops occupied all the Lowlands, Lorne and
his followers made a circuit in the mountains so as to inclose the
royal fugitive between them.
Bruce, seeing that resistance was impossible, caused his party to
separate into three divisions, and Douglas, Edward Bruce, and Sir
Archibald Forbes were charged to lead their bands, if possible,
through the enemy without fighting. The king tried to escape by a
different route with a handful of men. John of Lorne had obtained
from Turnberry a favourite blood hound belonging to Bruce, and
the hound being put upon the trace persistently followed the king's
party. Seeing this, Bruce ordered them all to disperse, and,
accompanied only by his foster brother, attempted to escape by
speed.
As they sped along the mountain side they were seen by Lorne, who
directed his henchman, with four of his bravest and swiftest men,
to follow him. After a long chase the MacDougalls came up with
Bruce and his foster brother, who drew their swords and stood on the
defence. The henchman, with two of his followers, attacked Bruce,
while the other two fell on his foster brother. The combat was a
desperate one, but one by one the king cut down his three assailants,
and then turned to the assistance of his foster brother, who
was hardly pressed. The king's sword soon rid him of one of his
assailants, and he slew the other. Having thus disembarrassed
themselves of the whole of their immediate assailants, Bruce and his
companion continued their flight. The main body of their hunters,
with the hound, were but a short distance away, but in a wood the
fugitives came upon a stream, and, marching for some distance down
this, again landed, and continued their flight.
The hound lost their scent at the spot where they had entered the
water, and being unable to recover it, Lorne and his followers
abandoned the chase. Among the king's pursuers on this occasion
was his nephew Randolph, who had been captured at the battle of
Methven, and having again taken the oath of allegiance to Edward
had been restored to that monarch's favour, and was now fighting
among the English ranks.
The search was actively kept up after Bruce, and a party of three
men-at-arms came upon him and his foster brother. Being afraid to
attack the king, whom they recognized, openly, they pretended they
had come to join him.
The king suspected treachery; and when the five lay down for the
night in a cottage which they came upon he and his companion agreed
to watch alternately. Overcome by fatigue, however, both fell asleep,
and when they were suddenly attacked by the three strangers, the
foster brother was killed before he could offer any resistance.
The king himself, although wounded, managed to struggle to his
feet, and then proved more than a match for his three treacherous
assailants, all of whom, after a desperate struggle, he slew.
The next morning he continued his way, and by nightfall succeeded
in joining the three bands, who had safely reached the rendezvous
he had appointed.
A few hours after this exploit of Bruce, Archie with two or three
of his followers joined him.
"This is indeed a serious matter of the hound," Archie said when
Bruce told him how nearly he had fallen a victim to the affection
of his favourite. "Methinks, sire, so long as he remains in the
English hands your life will never be safe, for the dog will always
lead the searchers to your hiding places; if one could get near
enough to shoot him, the danger would be at an end."
"I would not have him shot, Archie, for a large sum. I have had him
since he was a little pup; he has for years slept across my door,
and would give his life for mine. 'Tis but his affection now that
brings danger upon me."
"I should be sorry to see the dog killed myself," Archie said, "for
he is a fine fellow, and he quite admitted me to his friendship
during the time we were together. Still, sire, if it were a question
between their lives and yours, I would not hesitate to kill any
number of dogs. The whole future of Scotland is wrapped up in you;
and as there is not one of your followers but would gladly give
his life for yours, it were no great thing that a hound should do
the same."
"I cannot withstand you in argument, Archie," the king said smiling;
"yet I would fain that my favourite should, if possible, be spared.
But I grant you, should there be no other way, and the hound should
continue to follow me, he must be put to death. But it would grieve
me sorely. I have lost so many and so dear friends in the last
year, that I can ill spare one of the few that are left me."
Archie was himself fond of dogs, and knowing how attached Bruce
was to his faithful hound he could quite understand how reluctant
he was that harm should come to him. Still, he felt it was necessary
that the dog should, at all hazards, be either killed or taken
from the English, for if he remained in their hands he was almost
certain sooner or later to lead to Bruce's capture. He determined
then to endeavour to avert the danger by abstracting the dog from
the hands of the English, or, failing that, by killing him. To do
this it would be absolutely necessary to enter the English camp.
There was no possibility of carrying out his purpose without running
this risk, for when in pursuit of the king the hound would be held
by a leash, and there would be many men-at-arms close by, so that
the difficulty of shooting him would be extremely great, and Archie
could see no plan save that of boldly entering the camp.
He said nothing of his project to Bruce, who would probably have
refused to allow him to undertake it; but the next morning when
he parted from him--for it was considered advisable that the
fugitives should be divided into the smallest groups, and that only
one or two of his retainers should remain with Bruce--he started
with his own followers in the direction of Pembroke's camp. He
presently changed clothes with one of these, and they then collected
a quantity of firewood and made it into a great faggot. Archie gave
them orders where they should await him, and lifting the faggot on
his shoulders boldly entered the camp. He passed with it near the
pavilion of Pembroke. The earl was standing with some knights at
the entrance.
"Come hither, Scot," he said as Archie passed.
Archie laid his bundle on the ground, and doffing his bonnet strode
with an awkward and abashed air toward the earl.
"I suppose you are one of Bruce's men?" the earl said.
"My father," Archie replied, "as well as all who dwell in these
dales, were his vassals; but seeing that, as they say, his lands
have been forfeit and given to others, I know not whose man I am
at present."
"Dost know Bruce by figure?"
"Surely," Archie said simply, "seeing that I was employed in the
stables at Turnberry, and used to wash that big hound of his, who
was treated as a Christian rather than a dog."
"Oh, you used to tend the hound!" Pembroke said. "Then perhaps
you could manage him now. He is here in camp, and the brute is so
savage and fierce he has already well nigh killed two or three men;
and I would have had him shot but that he may be useful to us. If
he knows you he may be quieter with you than others."
"Doubtless he would know me," Archie said; "but seeing that I have
the croft to look after, as my father is old and infirm, I trust
that you will excuse me the service of looking after the hound."
"Answer me not," Pembroke said angrily. "You may think yourself
lucky, seeing that you are one of Bruce's retainers, that I do not
have you hung from a tree.
"Take the fellow to the hound," he said to one of his retainers,
"and see if the brute recognizes him; if so, put him in charge of
him for the future. And see you Scot, that you attempt no tricks,
for if you try to escape I will hang you without shrift."
Archie followed the earl's retainer to where, behind his pavilion,
the great dog was chained up. He leapt to his feet with a savage
growl on hearing footsteps approaching. His hair bristled and he
tugged at his chain.
"What a savage beast it is!" the man said; "I would sooner face
a whole company of you Scots than get within reach of his jaws.
Dickon," he went on as another soldier, on hearing the growl, issued
from one of the smaller tents which stood in rear of the pavilion,
"the earl has sent this Scot to relieve you of your charge of the
dog; he is to have the care of him in future."
"That is the best turn the earl has done me for a long time," the
man replied. "Never did I have a job I fancied less than the tending
of that evil tempered brute."
"He did not use to be evil tempered," Archie said; "but was a quiet
beast when I had to do with him before. I suppose the strangeness
of the place and so many strange faces have driven him half wild.
Beside, he is not used to being chained up. Hector, old fellow,"
he said approaching the dog quietly, "don't you know me?"
The great hound recognized the voice and his aspect changed
at once. The bristling hair lay flat on his back; the threatening
jaws closed. He gave a short deep bark of pleasure, and then began
leaping and tugging at his chain to reach his acquaintance. Archie
came close to him now. Hector reared on his hind legs, and placed
his great paws on his shoulders, and licked his face with whines
of joy.
"He knows you, sure enough," the man said; "and maybe we shall get
on better now. At any rate there may be some chance of sleep, for
the brute's howls every night since he has been brought here have
kept the whole camp awake."
"No wonder!" Archie said, "when he has been accustomed to be petted
and cared for; he resents being chained up."
"Would you unchain him?" the man asked.
"That would I," Archie replied; "and I doubt not that he will stay
with me."
"It may be so," the man replied; "but you had best not unchain him
without leave from the earl, for were he to take it into his head
to run away, I would not give a groat for your life. But I will go
and acquaint the earl that the dog knows you, and ask his orders
as to his being unchained."
In two or three minutes he returned.
"The earl says that on no account is he to be let free. He has told
me to have a small tent pitched here for you. The hound is to be
chained to the post, and to share the tent with you. You may, if
you will, walk about the camp with him, but always keeping him in
a chain; but if you do so it will be at your peril, for if he gets
away your life will answer for it."
In a short time two or three soldiers brought a small tent and
erected it close by where the dog was chained up. Archie unloosed
the chain from the post round which it was fastened, and led
Hector to the tent, the dog keeping close by his side and wagging
his tail gravely, as if to show his appreciation of the change, to
the satisfaction of the men to whom hitherto he had been a terror.
Some heather was brought for a bed, and a supply of food, both
for the dog and his keeper, and the men then left the two friends
alone. Hector was sitting up on his haunches gazing affectionately
at Archie, his tail beating the ground with slow and regular strokes.
"I know what you want to ask, old fellow," Archie said to him; "why
I don't lead you at once to your master? Don't you be impatient,
old fellow, and you shall see him ere long;" and he patted the
hound's head.
Hector, with a great sigh expressive of content and satisfaction,
lay down on the ground by the side of the couch of heather on which
Archie threw himself--his nose between his forepaws, clearly
expressing that he considered his troubles were over, and could now
afford to wait until in due time he should be taken to his master.
That night the camp slept quietly, for Hector was silent. For the
next two days Archie did not go more than a few yards from his tent,
for he feared that he might meet some one who would recognize him.