flame in the bosom of the fair Fleming, but in France, where the _preux
chevalier_ was seen in all his pride and glory. When about sixteen years
of age, she had accompanied her father to Flanders, when he resorted
thither for the purpose of traffic; and, in order to gratify his
daughter, of whom he was justly proud, he had taken her to Paris, to be
present at a joust held before Louis IX. The display of arms on that
occasion was a trial between Sir Piers Guyard and Sir William
Indelgonde, the latter of whom, having defamed the mistress of the
former, had been compelled, by order of Louis, to prove his assertion by
the issue of a mortal combat. The battle ended by the death of
Indelgonde; but what possessed greater charms to Anne than the details
of the _duellum_, was the extraordinary sight she witnessed of twenty
untried squires of France, all arrayed in shining coats of armour, with
long flowing plumes of various colours on their glittering basnets,
taking, according to the custom of these days, their first oaths,
"before the peacock and the ladies," that they would not see with both
eyes until they had accomplished some daring deed of arms. The gay bird
of gaudy hues was brought into a large pavilion erected at the end of
the arena; and, like that before which King Edward I. swore at
Westminster when he denounced poor Scotland, was encircled with a thin
covering of golden gauze, and placed on a tripod ornamented with many
carved devices of chivalry. The squires, one by one, knelt before the
bird, and recited their oaths, and then, turning round to the queens of
their destinies, solicited like mendicants, with one knee on the ground,
a silk riband to bind up the orb which was about to be deprived of the
fair sight of their charms. Nearly opposite to where Anne sat, a very
young chevalier of the name of Rolande of Leon knelt for his eye gear;
and though twenty ladies of birth, all anxious that their gifts should
be accepted, threw to him ribands of silk, it happened that, whether
from chance or from some mysterious sympathy between the hand and eyes
of the young mendicant, a narrow green stripe, that Anne in her
enthusiasm tore hurriedly from her head-gear, fell into his willing
grasp. When she saw the fluttering trophy in the hands of so comely a
youth, she trembled with modest fear; for she knew that, as the daughter
of a burgher, rich as he was, she had but a very questionable title to
compete for the honours of chivalry; but, when she saw the riband bound
round his head, and the helmet placed upon it, she was ready to faint
outright, and it was with difficulty that she retained her position on
the bench. As soon as the crowd began to move, she hastened away to join
her father, who was waiting for her beyond the palisades. Next day she
was on her way to Flanders, and shortly afterwards she arrived at the
city of Perth.
Two or three years had now passed since the fair Fleming acted the
almost involuntary part of a high lady, within the pale of the _Theatre
de la chevalerie_. Living, with the rich old merchant, within the walls
of a city devoted to traffic, she had had few opportunities of
witnessing another show of arms. The warriors of Scotland were then
holding their jousts in the open fields and thick forests; and, in place
of fighting for the smiles of women, were doing battle for the liberties
of their ancient and much-abused country. But the rising fame of Bruce,
his brother Edward, and Douglas, and Randolph, claimed her feelings of
admiration; and she would have given her rosary itself, with her
jewelled cross, to have got a glimpse of men of whom all the ladies of
Christendom were enamoured. She often pictured to herself, as she sat in
her small parlour that fronted the city wall, their forms firmly girt
with their shining armour; but a visor was never lifted up to the eye of
her fancy without revealing the feature of Rolande, as she saw him
kneeling at her feet for the gift he solicited and obtained. The face
had been deeply imprinted in her memory, and the encircling gift which
she had bestowed, seemed to connect her by some indefinable tie with one
whom she might never see again, but of whom she could never cease to
think. His elegant and manly form, which displayed all the graces of the
accomplished man-at-arms, mixed itself with all her thoughts, and her
greatest delight was to pre-figure to herself the appearance, on some
occasion, of that same warrior, with his left eye bound by the badge she
had given him, and a declaration on his tongue, as he knelt before her,
that she had the sole power of restoring him full-orbed to the light,
which he might now claim as the reward of his prowess.
Anne was thus one evening indulging in some of these reveries of a
love-sick brain, when Peter of Ghent entered the room. He was dressed in
his Sunday's suit, with his ample surcoat of the best broadcloth, girt
round the waist with a leather belt, his broad slouched hat of felt, and
boots of the old Flemish style turned down at the tops, forming
altogether a favourable contrast with the roughly-clad people of those
early times, when the rough hats, coarse jerkins, and untanned shoes,
constituted the apparel of Scotland's sons. Anne looked up, and a slight
feeling of surprise passed through her mind as she noticed him thus
arrayed.
"The town is still in great danger, Anne," said he, as he took a seat by
her side, at the fire of blazing faggots, that threw a bright glare over
the beautiful face of his daughter. "The enemies of Edward seem to be on
the increase. Dundee has surrendered, the whole of Galloway has been
ravaged, and Bruce, become bolder by his success, lies looking on our
good town, as the wolves of Atholl look on the sheepfold in the glen."
"If there had been lions in these parts, father," answered Anne, "I
might have heard from thee a comparison more suitable to the qualities
of that brave soldier."
"These words, Anne," replied Peter, "but ill become a liege woman of
King Edward. This poor country cannot thrive without the protecting
power of England, where more broadcloths are disposed of in one year
than Scotland uses in ten. The limbs of the sturdy hills and dales men
seem to spurn all modes of human comfort; yet verily the love of ease
and warmth to the body is the parent of all arts and improvement; and
until that begins to be felt, we can have no hope of Scotland."
Anne looked up, and smiled at this professional allusion to the source
of her father's wealth.
"But I need not so speak to the pretty Anne," he added, returning her
smile; "for I know that thou hast the fashionable womanish affection of
these times for steel, as the commodity of man's apparel; and thereto
appertaineth the subject of which I came to speak to thee. Our governor,
William Oliphant--who, though a Scotchman, is as true an adherent of
Edward as ever fought under the banner-borne bones of his
father--wanteth a thousand Flemish nobles, to enable him to get
provisions for our citizens from a Dutch galley in the Tay; and whom
should he apply to for it but Peter of Ghent, who is looked upon as
being the richest man of Perth?"
"And wilt thou give it him, father?" said Anne. "Of a surety, thou wilt
lose it, if thou dost; for, were Perth as strong as Roxburgh, which,
they say, is the strongest hold of these parts, it would not stand
against such a warrior as Robert Bruce; and where wilt thou get thy
money again, if the town falls into the hands of the Scots?"
"That is a good point of argument for a woman, love," replied Peter. "I
fear for the old town myself; for they tell me that Bruce's fame has
brought to his blue banner three French knights, with their left eyes
bound up by ladies' favours, who deem that their feats of arms in an
escalade of Perth may restore to them their sight. Doubtless they will
fight like lions or devils; but seest thou not, that, whether I give the
money or not, the town may fall, and all I have in the world may be
wrenched from me by these naked caterans, to whom a single merk, albeit
it were clipped to the dimensions of King David's bodles, would be a
fortune?"
Anne was silent. The mention of the monoculous knights of France had
driven merks and all other moneys from her mind, and she would have
rejoiced to have seen Perth taken upon the instant, provided always that
she were taken with it. But Peter understood not her absence of mind,
and resumed his argument, on the assumption that Anne was listening with
all due attention to his scheme.
"But Peter of Ghent," he again said, "never gave a silver piece, or a
woollen piece either, for nothing; and, if my dutiful Anne will enter
into my scheme, she may have for her consort no less a man than William
Oliphant himself, the Governor of Perth, and her wedding-dress shall be
of the best silks of Nismes, the richest gloves of Grenoble, and sandals
from the fair of Bocaire."
This announcement of some cunning purpose of her father filled Anne with
alarm. Oliphant, a dissolute man, had been sometimes in the habit of
calling at the house, and she had often thought that she herself was the
object of his attraction. Her father, by mentioning the French knights
that fought under the banner of Bruce, had raised a hope that her
chevalier of the green riband was among them, and now he had caused an
alarm that might have been read in her countenance.
"William Oliphant, the Governor of Perth," she replied, as she held down
her face towards the blazing faggots, "will not surely stoop to marry
the daughter of a Flemish merchant."
"Money will make any man stoop, fair Anne," replied Peter. "I have heard
the back armour of the bravest knight of the lists crack with the bow to
Mammon, as loud as when he knelt to the peacock. A merchant knows the
science of provisos, and conditions, and stipulations, and never a
Scotch plack will William Oliphant get from Peter of Ghent, but upon the
condition that he wed my Anne, when the town is saved from the arms of
Bruce and his blind knights, and the promised succours shall arrive from
England. By Saint Dennis, we may have a jolly wedding in the midst of
our jubilee of liberation. What sayest, my love?"
Anne still hung down her head. She feared to oppose her father, who was
indulgent to her, and had hitherto prided himself on her obedience. She
was, besides, overcome with the conflicting thoughts that had been so
suddenly raised in her mind by the mention of the French knights, and of
this new purpose of her father, that seemed to destroy all the hopes she
still entertained of one day enjoying the affections of the man who had
first produced an effect upon her heart. A deep sigh escaped from her,
and roused her father's suspicions of the cause of her silence.
"Speak, Anne," he said; "thou hast already captivated the governor by
thy beauty, and my money will do the rest. He will be knighted by
Edward, if he beat off the Bruce; and my daughter will be a lady."
"William Oliphant is not a man according to my heart, father," answered
she, at last, with a trembling heart; "but might I be absolved from my
engagement to marry him, if the town falls before the arms of the
Scots?" she added, as she looked modestly and fearfully into his face.
"Most certainly, love," replied Peter; "and, moreover, thou shalt not be
bound to Oliphant personally, for it is I that must make the condition
that he will marry thee, in consideration of the loan I gave him for the
good old town."
Well pleased with the dutiful answer he had got from his daughter, the
worthy man of traffic sallied forth to meet, by special appointment, the
governor, who anxiously waited for him in his residence. After he had
gone forth, Anne bethought herself of what her fear of offending her
father had wrung from her. Though timid from love and duty, she was of a
noble spirit, and upheld her heart, as it recoiled from the thought of
becoming the wife of a man she hated, by revolving in her mind the
chances of the gallant Scots forcing the town to surrender, and
relieving her from her qualified obligation. She wished all success to
the chivalrous Bruce, because she loved the character of him, and the
great and enthusiastic spirits who were struggling for freedom; but she
was filled with a high swelling hope, that burned in her bright eye, and
heaved her bosom, that her chosen knight of the lists was among the
three Frenchmen, who were undergoing their probation for the honours of
chivalry. At that moment, her lover was in all probability at a very
short distance from her--her lady-gift still bound the flowing hair of
dark auburn she had seen and admired, as it escaped from beneath his
helm; her power was still exercised in occluding one of the darkest and
most brilliant eyes that ever peered through the warrior's visor, and
the thought of her then sitting and dreaming of him was perhaps
occupying his mind, and filling his heart. Then rose the thrilling
thought, that, ere another week passed over, her own hands might be
required to unbind the pledge, and the light of the eye that had so long
been hid from the sun, might first be thrown upon the face of her who
bound it. The hazards of a siege were despised by her bold spirit, as it
contemplated these glowing visions. She feared nothing for either
herself or her father from men who, while they fought like lions for
their country's liberty, were actuated by the high and noble spirit of
chivalry. Possessing that confidence in the generosity of noble hearts
which seems to be natural to lovely women, she would throw herself on
the protection of Bruce himself; claiming that, she could defy all
danger, from whatever quarter it might come; and her request for safety
to her father would be as successful as her petition for herself. In the
siege and capture of the town, her best and dearest interests were
involved; for she would contemplate the success of great men fighting in
a cause she loved, she would have the chance of meeting her lover, and
she had the certainty of escaping the licentious Oliphant, who could not
claim her, in the event of losing his treacherous cause in fighting
against his country. The sounds of the clang of arms of the assailants
would at that moment have been the sweetest sound she ever heard; and
she drew deep sighs, as she contemplated the chances of their triumph.
Unconscious of the thoughts that were revolving in the excited mind of
his daughter, Peter of Ghent walked along the streets of Perth, till he
came to the residence of the governor. His mind was too much occupied on
the subject of his diplomatic undertaking to allow him to notice the
gazing burghers, who, from their windows, stared at the rich Fleming,
and suspected that the object of his expedition was in some way
connected with the perilous state of the town. He found the governor
waiting for him; and, having made his bow, was soon seated by the
official's fire.
"Well, Peter of Ghent," began Oliphant, "hast thou bethought thyself of
my request--to give me the thousand nobles that are required for the
support of the town against the arms of the Bruce, whose head deserveth
a spear, alongside of that which upholdeth Wallace's on London Bridge,
or whose body meriteth a cage, alongside of the Countess of Buchan's
crib, in the Castle of Berwick. What sayest thou?"
"The sum thou mentionest, Sir Governor," replied the cunning burgher,
"hath been laid apart for the tocher of Anne, who meriteth well of the
good consideration thou hast bestowed on her. The marriage dower is a
sacred gift. Dost thou think as well of her now as formerly?"
"Why, yes, Peter of Ghent, I do," replied Oliphant, who probably saw
some obscure connection between Peter's sentences which the words
themselves scarcely supplied. "No man with a heart could see that maiden
once, and forget her ever. Less beautiful women have been the cause of
the meeting of bleeding heads and sawdust; and thou wilt not be far
beyond the Saracen's head of thy suspicion, if thou deemest me a lover
of fair Anne of Ghent."
"That I have had a fair cause to suspect," said Peter; "and I am well
entitled to opine that Anne would give her consent to my paying the sum
required of me, upon the consideration that it was merely a species of
foreinstalment of dowery, given for the double purpose of saving the
town and securing a governor of her heart. A man that can defend, so
nobly as you have done, a walled city, could keep a woman's heart in
good discipline."
"A right fair point of dialects, Peter of Ghent," replied Oliphant; "but
we had better speak of concernments of love after the city is saved. Let
us have the nobles in the meanwhile, and we will discuss the merits of
the fair Anne, when we have time and leisure to appreciate the qualities
of womankind."
"Well and veritably indited," said Peter; "but it would lubricate and
facilitate the gaining of Anne's consent to the payment of this money,
if I could report to her that it was to be paid as a matrimonial propine
to the man she loveth; and, to be honest, I cannot, of a truth, pay it,
but upon that stipulation."
"And, by the honour of a governor! I am well pleased to think that I am
thus estimated by so fair a creature. Let us have the money; and, if all
goes well with the town, I shall look for a second tocher, of another
thousand, with the hand of thy daughter."
"Concluded, Sir Governor," cried Peter, in ecstasy.
And the two sat down to finish, over a bottle of Burgundy, the details
of a bargain which, on one side, was, at least, sincere; but on the
other, was deemed, by those who knew the faithless character of the man,
of, at least, dubious faith. Whatever sincerity, however, was felt and
exhibited by Peter, in so far as concerned the governor, it was very
clear that he had acted a part of true mercantile subtlety, in so far as
regarded the interests of his fair daughter. Meanwhile, the money was
paid, and extraordinary efforts were made by Oliphant to get foraging
parties sent abroad, to procure, for the inhabitants, the necessary
supplies. The motions of these troops, as well as those of the
besiegers, were regularly noticed by Anne from a part of the wall to
which she had access from her father's house. Her interest in the issue
of the impending strife was the greatest that could be felt by woman;
for it involved the dearest rights of her sex. Bound to Oliphant only in
the event of his success, his defeat might bring to her the object of
her affections, and she looked for every demonstration of activity on
the part of Bruce as a sign of her coming liberation.
During these watchful operations of the fair Fleming, the soldiers of
Bruce remained steady at their post, where they had already been for
five weeks, endeavouring to prevent any supplies from being sent into
the town. Their numbers as yet, however, were so few, and the
fortifications of Perth so extensive, that a considerable portion of the
ground surrounding the town was left under the surveillance of a species
of riding patrole, which the indefatigable endeavours of Oliphant
sometimes succeeded in enabling the purveyors to elude. A like good
fortune did not attend some of those sent to turn the merks of Peter of
Ghent into edibles; for several foragers were intercepted in their
passage from the country to the besieged city. One of these--a person
called Giles Mortimer--was taken before Bruce, and examined as to the
state of the town's provisions.
"Well, sirrah, are these rebels still determined to hold out?" said the
king.
"There are many murmurs in the town, sire," replied the man; "and were
it not, as fame reporteth, that a rich citizen hath given the governor a
thousand Flemish nobles, on condition that he marry his daughter, I do
believe that not another noble would have been wrung from any one in the
whole city."
"And what is the name of this rich citizen?" said Bruce.
"How could it be any other than Peter of Ghent?" said the man, with a
smile; "for is he not the richest citizen of Perth?"
"We have heard of this same Peter of Ghent," said Bruce; "and, by our
crown, we should not be ill pleased to be present at the wedding of his
daughter. We have some French knights here, who would dance merrily, in
honour of the fair bride. What is her name?"
"Anne of Ghent she is called," replied the man; "and, by'r lady, she
might, for the matter of beauty, be the wife of a king."
"And when is the wedding to be?" rejoined Brace.
"When the governor can declare the town to be safe from the Bruce,"
replied the man.
"And that will be when the hares in the pass of Ben Cruachan are safe
from the wolves of Lorn," replied Bruce, laughing, and looking around to
his chiefs. "Now, look around you, sir, at these warriors, and after
thou hast made a gauge of their numbers, and learned that every castle
we have yet attempted hath fallen before us, go and tell William
Oliphant that we intend to be present at his wedding with the fair Anne
of Ghent, and cannot think of waiting either for the succours of King
Edward, or for our own defeat. Hie thee on our message, sirrah."
The man was accordingly liberated; and Bruce, during that same day,
having resolved to perform by stratagem what seemed to be impossible by
the fair play of arms, took with him Sir James Douglas, and went to
reconnoitre. Great and even marvellous as was the courage of these
far-famed assertors of their country's freedom, it may be doubted
whether their genius for daring and successful stratagem did not excel
the chivalrous spirit of fair-fighting by which they were actuated to
perform deeds of arms that have made the whole world ring with their
fame. The capture of the peel or castle of Linlithgow, and that of
Edinburgh, afterwards performed, were the most cunningly-devised pieces
of military stratagem that had ever been witnessed; and the work of old
Polyaenus on the warlike acts of the strategists of Greece exhibits
nothing that can be compared to them. Bruce had already exhibited this
talent for scheming, in the affairs of Lindon Hill and Cruachan Ben; but
his powers in this respect were yet to be developed on a grander scale,
and as it were by gradation, till the final triumph of Bannockburn
should establish his fame for ever. The capture of Perth was one of
those intermediate and probationary trials that were fitting the great
master for that final and glorious display of all his talents for war;
but, small as it was in comparison of what followed, it exhibited
perhaps as much of his peculiar genius as had yet been shown.
Accompanied by Sir James, he went, during the hours of twilight, up to
the margin of the fosse.
"We must know the depth cf this miniature Styx," he said to his
companion.
"But we have no measuring-rods," replied Sir James.
"By thine own St Bride! we have though," replied Bruce, smiling. "I am
six feet two inches in height." And, in an instant, he was up to the
neck in the water; proceeding forward he reached the bottom of the wall,
and satisfied himself that all the tall men of his army might make their
way through the ditch without incurring the danger of being drowned.
Having ascertained this, he returned to the camp, and having provided
himself and his companion (for he avoided any show of men) with
scaling-ladders of ropes, they again sallied forth under the shade of
the increasing darkness, and reached the spot that had already been
tested. With one of the ladders in his hand, he again plunged into the
water, and made a signal for Sir James to follow; but the knight wanted
full two inches of the height of the king, and hesitated a moment, from
a well-grounded suspicion that he would be overwhelmed. But shame
mastered his scruples, and in an instant he was alongside of the king,
who, however, required to seize and sustain him, to prevent his being
taken off his feet by the power of the water, that was almost on a level
with his lips. They paused a moment in this position, to listen if there
were any sounds of stir on the walls, and, perceiving all quiet, they
proceeded, and reached the bottom of the fortification. Sir James stood
close to the wall, and Bruce, by the aid of some jutting stones, mounted
upon his shoulders, remarking, with a quaint humour, that the knight
required some weight to be placed upon him, to enable him to keep his
erect position. In this strange attitude the king contrived to throw up
and fix the ladders to the top of the first bartizan of the wall, and
having tugged them with all his force, to ascertain their steadfastness,
he came down, and was about to retrace his steps, when Sir James, who
disdained to be behind even his king in feats of daring, seized the end
of one of the ladders, and, mounting up, looked calmly over the top of
the wall, and satisfied himself of two things--first, that the ladders
were properly fixed; and, second, that their daring act had not been
observed. Having descended, he was again laid hold of by the king; and
they reached the bank, where they deliberately shook the water off them
after the manner of water-spaniels, and returned to the camp.