The Convent of St. Kenneth
Bruce, as the result of his successes, was now able to leave
his fastnesses and establish himself in the districts of Carrick,
Kyle, and Cunningham. Pembroke had established himself at Bothwell
Castle, and sent a challenge to Bruce to meet him with his force at
Loudon Hill. Although his previous experience of such challenges
was unfortunate, Bruce accepted the offer. He had learned much
since the battle of Methven, and was not likely again to be caught
asleep; on the 9th of May he assembled his forces at Loudon Hill.
It was but a small following. Douglas had brought 100 men
from Douglasdale, and Archie Forbes had as many under his banner.
Bruce's own vassals had gathered 200 strong, and as many more of
the country people had joined; but in all, the Scotch force did
not exceed 600 men, almost entirely on foot and armed with spears.
Bruce at once reconnoitred the ground to discover a spot where his
little force might best withstand the shock of Pembroke's chivalry.
He found that at one place near the hill the road crossed a level
meadow with deep morasses on either side. He strengthened the position
with trenches, and calmly awaited the approach of his enemy. Upon
the following day Pembroke's army was seen approaching, numbering
3000 knights and mounted men-at-arms, all in complete armour. They
were formed in two divisions. The battle was almost a repetition
of that which had been fought by Wallace near the same spot. The
English chivalry levelled their spears and charged with proud
confidence of their ability to sweep away the rabble of spearmen
in front of them. Their flanks became entangled in the morasses;
their centre tried in vain to break through the hedge of Scottish
spears, and when they were in confusion, the king, his brother
Edward, Douglas, Archie Forbes, and some twenty other mounted men
dashed through a gap in the spearmen and fell upon them. The second
division, seeing the first broken and in confusion, turned and took
to flight at once, and Pembroke and his attendants rode, without
drawing rein, to Bothwell Castle.
A few days later Bruce encountered and defeated Ralph de Monthermer,
Earl of Gloucester, and compelled him to shut himself up in the
Castle of Ayr.
Archie Forbes was not present at the second battle, for upon the
morning after the fight at Loudon Hill he was aroused by his servant
entering his tent.
"A messenger has just brought this," he said, handing him a small
packet. "He bids me tell you that the sender is a prisoner in the
convent of St. Kenneth, on Loch Leven, and prays your aid."
Archie opened the packet and found within it the ring he had given
to Marjory at Dunstaffnage. Without a moment's delay he hurried
to the king and begged permission to leave him for a short time on
urgent business, taking with him twenty of his retainers.
"What is your urgent business, Sir Archie?" the king asked. "A lady
is in the case, I warrant me. Whenever a young knight has urgent
business, be sure that a lady is in question. Now mind, Sir Archie,
I have, as I have told you, set my heart upon marrying you to
Mistress Mary Kerr, and so at once putting an end to a long feud
and doubling your possessions. Her retainers fought well yesterday,
and the least I can do to reward so splendid a damsel is to bestow
upon her the hand of my bravest knight."
"I fear, sire," Archie said laughing, "that she must be content
with another. There are plenty who will deem themselves well paid
for their services in your cause by the gift of the hand of so rich
an heiress. But I must fain be excused; for as I told you, sire,
when we were together in Rathlin Island, my heart was otherwise
bestowed."
"What! to the niece of that malignant enemy of mine, Alexander of
Lorne?" the king said laughing. "Her friends would rather see you
on the gibbet than at the altar."
"I care nought for her friends," Archie said, "if I can get herself.
My own lands are wide enough, and I need no dowry with my wife."
"I see you are hopeless," the king replied. "Well, go, Archie; but
whatever be your errand, beware of the Lornes. Remember I have
scarce begun to win Scotland yet, and cannot spare you."
A quarter of an hour later Archie, with twenty picked men, took
his way northward. Avoiding all towns and frequented roads, Archie
marched rapidly north to the point of Renfrew and crossed the Firth
of Clyde by boat; then he kept north round the head of Loch Fyne,
and avoiding Dalmally skirted the head of Loch Etive and the slopes
of Ben Nevis, and so came down on Loch Leven.
The convent stood at the extremity of a promontory jutting into the
lake. The neck was very narrow, and across it were strong walls,
with a gate and flanking towers. Between this wall and the convent
was the garden where the inmates walked and enjoyed the air free
from the sight of men, save, indeed, of fishers who might be passing
in their boats.
Outside the wall, on the shore of the lake, stood a large village;
and here a strong body of the retainers of the convent were always
on guard, for at St. Kenneth were many of the daughters of Scotch
nobles, sent there either to be out of the way during the troubles
or to be educated by the nuns. Although the terrors of sacrilege
and the ban of the church might well deter any from laying hands
upon the convent, yet even in those days of superstition some were
found so fierce and irreverent as to dare even the anger of the
church to carry out their wishes; and the possession of some of these
heiresses might well enable them to make good terms for themselves
both with the church and the relations of their captives. Therefore a
number of the retainers were always under arms, a guard was placed
on the gate, and lookouts on the flanking towers--their duty
being not only to watch the land side, but to shout orders to keep
at a distance to any fisherman who might approach too closely to
the promontory.
Archie left his party in the forest under the command of William
Orr. He dressed himself as a mountaineer, and, accompanied by Cluny
Campbell, and carrying a buck which they had shot in the forest,
went boldly down into the village. He soon got into conversation
with an old fisherman, and offered to exchange the deer for dried
fish. The bargain was quickly struck, and then Archie said:
"I have never been out on the lake, and would fain have a view of
the convent from the water. Will you take me and my brother out
for a row?"
The fisherman, who had made a good bargain, at once assented, and
rowed Archie and Cluny far out into the lake.
As they passed along at some distance Archie saw that the shore was
in several places smooth and shelving, and that there would be no
difficulty in effecting a landing. He saw also that there were many
clumps of trees and shrubs in the garden.
"And do the nuns and the ladies at the convent often walk there?"
he asked the fisherman.
"Oh yes," he answered; "of an evening as I come back from fishing
I can see numbers of them walking there. When the vesper bell rings
they all go in. That is the chapel adjoining the convent on this
side."
"It is a strong building," Archie said as when past the end of
the promontory they obtained a full view of it. "It is more like
a castle than a convent."
"It had need be strong," the old man said; "for some of the
richest heiresses in Scotland are shut up there. On the land side
I believe there are no windows on the lower storey, and the door
is said to be of solid iron. The windows on that side are all
strongly barred; and he would have hard work, indeed, who wanted
by force or stratagem to steal one of the pretty birds out of that
cage."
Archie had no idea of using force; and although he had been to some
extent concerned in the breach of sanctuary at Dumfries, he would
have shrunk from the idea of violating the sanctuary of St. Kenneth.
But to his mind there was no breach whatever of that sanctuary in
aiding one kept there against her will to make her escape. Having
ascertained all that he wished to know, he bade the boatman return
to shore.
"Keep a lookout for me," he said, "for I may return in a few days
with another buck, and may bring a comrade or two with me who would
like an afternoon's fishing on the lake. I suppose you could lend
me your boat and nets?"
"Assuredly," the fisherman replied. "You will not mind taking into
consideration the hire of the boat in agreeing for the weight of
fish to be given for the stag?"
Archie nodded, secretly amused at the old man's covetousness, for
he knew that the weight of fish he had given him for the stag which
he had brought down was not one fourth the value of the meat.
He then returned with Cluny to the band. Some time before daybreak
he came down to the place again, and, entering the water quietly,
at a distance from the promontory, swam noiselessly out, and landed
at the garden, and there concealed himself in a clump of bushes.
Daylight came. An hour later some of the nuns of the second order,
who belonged to poor families and acted as servants in the convent,
came out into the garden, and busied themselves with the cultivation
of the flowers, vegetables, and herbs. Not till the afternoon did
any of the other inmates appear; but at about four o'clock the
great door of the convent opened, and a number of women and girls
streamed out. The former were all in nuns' attire, as were a few
of the latter, but their garb was somewhat different from that of
the elder sisters; these were the novices. The greater number,
however, of the girls were dressed in ordinary attire, and were the
pupils of the convent. While the nuns walked quietly up and down
or sat on benches and read, the pupils scattered in groups laughing
and talking merrily together. Among these Archie looked eagerly
for Marjory. He felt sure that her imprisonment could be detention
only, and not rigorous seclusion. Presently he espied her. She
was walking with two of the nuns and three or four of the elder
residents at the convent, for many of these were past the age of
pupildom; and were there simply as a safe place of refuge during
troublous times. The conversation appeared to be an animated one.
It was not for some time that the group passed within hearing of
Archie's place of concealment. Then Archie heard the voice of one
of the nuns raised in anger:
"It is monstrous what you say, and it is presumptuous and wicked
for a young girl of eighteen to form opinions for herself. What
should we come to if every young woman were to venture to think and
judge for herself? Discord and disorder would be wrought in every
family. All your relations and friends are opposed to this sacrilegious
murderer, Robert Bruce. The church has solemnly banned him, and
yet you venture to uphold his cause."
"But the Bishop of Glasgow," Marjory said, "and many other good
prelates of our church side with him, and surely they must be good
judges whether his sins are unpardonable."
"Do not argue with me," the sister said angrily. "I tell you this
obstinacy will be permitted no longer. Had it not been that Alexander
of Lorne begged that we would not be harsh with you, steps would
long since have been taken to bring you to reason; but we can no
longer permit this advocacy of rebellion, and the last unmaidenly
step which you took of setting at defiance your friends and relatives,
and even of sending messages hence, must be punished. The abbess
bade me reason with you and try and turn your obstinate will. Your
cousins of Badenoch here have appealed to you in vain. This can no
longer be tolerated. The lady abbess bids me tell you that she gives
you three days to renounce the rebel opinions you have so frowardly
held, and to accept the husband whom your uncle and guardian has
chosen for you, your cousin John of Lorne, his son. During that
time none will speak to you. If at the end of three days you are
still contumacious you will be confined to your cell on bread and
water until better thoughts come to you."
While the conversation had been going on, the little group had
halted near the bushes, and they now turned away, leaving Marjory
standing by herself. The girl sat down on a bench close to where
she had been standing, exclaiming to herself as she did so, "They
may shut me up as a prisoner for life, but I will never consent to
take sides against the cause of Scotland or to marry John of Lorne.
Oh! who is there?" she exclaimed, starting suddenly to her feet as
a man's voice behind her said:
"Quite right, Mistress Marjory, well and bravely resolved; but pray
sit down again, and assume an attitude of indifference."
"Who is it that speaks?" the girl asked in a tremulous voice,
resuming her seat.
"It is your true knight, lady, Archibald Forbes, who has come to
rescue you from this captivity."
"But how can you rescue me?" the girl asked after a long pause. "Do
you know the consequences if you are found here within the bounds
of the convent?"
"I care nothing for the consequences," Archie said. "I have in the
woods twenty stout followers. I propose tomorrow to be with three
of them on the lake afishing. If you, when the bell rings for your
return in the evening, will enter that little copse by the side of
the lake, and will show yourself at the water's edge, we will row
straight in and take you off long ere the guards can come hither
to hinder us. The lake is narrow, and we can reach the other side
before any boat can overtake us. There my followers will be awaiting
us, and we can escort you to a place of safety. It is fortunate
that you are ordered to be apart from the rest; none therefore will
mark you as you linger behind when the bell rings for vespers."
Marjory was silent for some time.
"But, Sir Knight," she said, "whither am I to go? for of all my
friends not one, save the good priest, but is leagued against me."
"I can take you either to the Bishop of Glasgow, who is a friend of
the Bruce and whom I know well--he will, I am sure, take charge
of you--or, if you will, lady, I can place you with my mother,
who will receive you as a daughter."
"But what," the girl said hesitatingly, "will people say at my
running away from a convent with a young knight?"
"Let them say what they will," Archie said. "All good Scots, when
they know that you have been in prison here solely from the love
of your country, will applaud the deed; and should you prefer it,
the king will, I know, place you in charge of the wife of one of
the nobles who adheres to him, and will give you his protection
and countenance. Think, lady, if you do not take this opportunity
of gaining your freedom, it may never occur again, for if you are
once shut up in your cell, as I heard threatened, nothing save an
attack by force of arms, which would be sheer sacrilege, can rescue
you from it. Surely," he urged, as the girl still remained silent,
"you can trust yourself with me. Do I not owe my life to you? and
I swear that so long as you remain in my charge I will treat you
as my sister in all honour and respect."
For some minutes the girl made no answer. At length she said,
standing up, and half turning toward the bushes:
"I will trust you, Sir Archie. I know you to be a brave and honourable
knight, and I will trust you. I know 'tis a strange step to take,
and the world will blame me; but what can I do? If I refuse your
offer I shall be kept a prisoner here until I consent to marry John
of Lorne, whom I hate, for he is as rough and cruel as his father,
without the kindness of heart, which, save in his angry moments,
the latter has ever had toward me. All my relations are against
me, and struggle against my fate as I may, I must in the end bend
to their will if I remain here. 'Tis a hard choice to make; but
what can I do? Yes, I will trust to your honour; and may God and
all the saints punish you if you are false to the trust! Tomorrow
evening, as the vespers are chiming, I will be at the water's edge,
behind yonder clump of bushes."
Then, with head bent down and slow steps, Marjory returned to
the convent, none addressing her as she passed through the groups
of her companions, the order that she was to be shut out from the
rest having been already issued. Archie remained in his place of
concealment until the gardens were deserted and night had fallen.
Then he left his hiding place, and, entering the lake, swam quietly
away, and landed far beyond the village. An hour's walk brought
him to the encampment of his comrades.
At daybreak next morning the band, under the command of William
Orr, started for their long march round the head of the lake to
the position which they were to take up on the opposite side facing
the convent, Archie choosing three of the number most accustomed
to the handling of oars to remain with him. With these he set out
on a hunt as soon as the main body had left, and by midday had
succeeded in killing a stag. With this swung on a pole carried by
his followers Archie proceeded to the village. He speedily found
the fisherman with whom he had before bargained.
"I did not expect you back again so soon," the old man said.
"We killed a buck this morning," Archie said carelessly, "and my
friends thought that the afternoon would be fine for fishing."
"You can try if you like," the fisherman said, "but I fear that
you will have but little sport. The day is too bright and clear,
and the fish will be sulking at the bottom of the lake."
"We will try," Archie said, "nevertheless. Even if the sport is
bad it will be pleasant out on the lake, and if we catch nothing we
will get you to give us some fresh fish instead of dry. The folks
in the hills will be no wiser, and it will not do for us to return
empty handed."
The fisherman assented, and placed the oars and nets in the boat,
and Archie and his companions entering rowed out into the middle
of the lake, and then throwing over the nets busied themselves with
fishing.
As the old man had predicted, their sport was but small, but this
concerned them little. Thinking that they might be watched, they
continued steadily all the afternoon casting and drawing in the
nets, until the sun neared the horizon. Then they gathered the
nets into the boat and rowed quietly towards the shore. Just as
they were abreast the end of the promontory the bell of the chapel
began to ring the vespers. A few more strokes and Archie could
see the clump of bushes.
"Row quietly now," he said, still steering toward the village.
He was about a hundred yards distant from the shore of the convent
garden. Just as he came abreast of the bushes the foliage was parted
and Marjory appeared at the edge of the water. In an instant the
boat's head was turned toward shore, and the three rowers bent to
the oars.
A shout from the watchman on the turret showed that he had been
watching the boat and that this sudden change of its course had
excited his alarm. The shout was repeated again and again as the
boat neared the shore, and just as the keel grated on the sand the
outer gate was opened and some armed men were seen running into the
garden, but they were still two hundred yards away. Marjory leapt
lightly into the boat; the men pushed off, and before the retainers
of the convent reached the spot the boat was speeding away over the
lake. Archie gave up to Marjory his seat in the stern, and himself
took an oar.
Loch Leven, though of considerable length, is narrow, and the boat
was nearly a third of the way across it before two or three craft
were seen putting out from the village in pursuit, and although
these gained somewhat, the fugitives reached the other shore a long
distance in advance. William Orr and his men were at the landing
place, and soon the whole party were hurrying through the wood.
They had no fear of instant pursuit, for even in the fast gathering
gloom those in the boats would have perceived the accession of
force which they had received on landing, and would not venture
to follow. But before morning the news of the evasion would spread
far and wide, and there would be a hot pursuit among the mountains.
Scarce a word had been spoken in the boat. Marjory was pale and
agitated, and Archie thought it best to leave her to herself. On
the way through the wood he kept beside her, assisting her over
rough places, and occasionally saying a few encouraging words. When
darkness had completely set in three or four torches were lit, and
they continued their way until midnight. Several times Archie had
proposed a halt, but Marjory insisted that she was perfectly able
to continue her way for some time longer.
At midnight, however, he halted.
"We will stop here," he said. "My men have been marching ever since
daybreak, and tomorrow we must journey fast and far. I propose that
we keep due east for some time and then along by Loch Rannoch, then
across the Grampians by the pass of Killiecrankie, when we can make
down to Perth, and so to Stirling. The news of your escape will
fly fast to the south, and the tracks to Tarbert and the Clyde
will all be watched; but if we start at daybreak we shall be far on
our way east before they begin to search the hills here; and even
if they think of our making in this direction, we shall be at
Killiecrankie before they can cut us off."