“BRUCE to the rescue! Bruce to the rescue!” was the war-cry of the valiant little band of Scottish chiefs who gathered under the banner of Robert Bruce, who was the seventh lord of Annandale, and also earl of Garrick.

The heroic William Wallace had already endeavored to free his country from the yoke of bondage in which they were held by the English king, Edward I.

Alexander III., the ninety-fifth king of Scotland, had died in 1286, leaving his grand-daughter Margaret, the Fair Maid of Norway, heir to the Scottish throne. This child-princess was betrothed to the son of the English king; but when quite young, as she sailed from her father’s castle in Norway to her future home in Scotland, she died on the voyage thither. Thus the crown of Scotland became the cause of dispute amongst thirteen noblemen, descendants of members of the royal family, who set up claims to the vacant throne.

There were but two claimants whose pretensions were based upon sufficient grounds to insure any prospect of success. These were John Baliol and Robert Bruce, grandson and son of the two elder daughters of David, earl of Huntingdon, who was the younger brother of King William, the Lion, who was the ninety-third king of Scotland. This Robert Bruce was the grandfather of the hero who is the subject of this sketch.

King Edward of England, having been requested by the Scots to act as arbitrator amongst all these claimants, decided to give the preference to John Baliol, who was crowned king in November, 1292, having sworn fealty to Edward, king of England. Thus did the wily English sovereign place upon the Scottish throne a king weak enough to be used as his tool. And poor John Baliol soon found, to his sorrow, that he was a king only in name; but in reality a slave in the hands of his ambitious and powerful neighbor.

Edward, having placed the feeble Baliol upon the throne of Scotland, spared him no humiliation. Every time any Scottish petitioner appealed to Edward, Baliol’s liege lord, regarding any decision of the king of Scotland which had failed to satisfy his subject, Edward would summon Baliol to appear at his court, to render an account of his judgment. This occurred four times the first year of his reign. At length Baliol refused to comply longer with these demands of Edward, whereupon the English king advanced with an army against the Scots. After a fearful massacre at Berwick, and the capture of several castles by the English, Baliol begged for peace, and was sent to the Tower in honorable captivity. He subsequently ended his life in his domains in Normandy. Robert Bruce at once claimed the crown. But Edward exclaimed, angrily, “Do you think that I have nothing else to do but to conquer kingdoms for you?”

Scotland was now treated as a conquered country; and Warrene, earl of Surrey, was appointed governor, Hugh de Cressingham, treasurer, and William Ormesby, chief justicier.

Robert Bruce the grandfather, and also Robert Bruce the father of our hero, considered it the better part of discretion to resign all pretensions to the throne of Scotland. They therefore swore fealty to King Edward.

Robert de Bruce, the sixth lord of Annandale, had accompanied Edward, when prince of England, and Louis I. of France, to the Holy Land, where he acquired great renown. A romantic story is told of his courtship and marriage.

One day this knight of the crusades was riding through the domains of Turnberry. As he was proceeding leisurely along through the majestic forests, charmed with the beauty of the sylvan scenery, watching the glinting sunbeams dance athwart the leaves, and play hide-and-seek with the shadows, in the cosey nooks where moss-banks nestled, he was startled by the sound of a hunting-horn; and shortly a gay cavalcade of lords and ladies dashed through the forest on their way to the castle near by. One of the ladies, Margaret, countess of Garrick, the owner of this castle, and hostess of this splendid retinue, being captivated by the lordly bearing of the handsome, unknown knight, with the freedom and natural courtesy of one who felt her independence upon her own domain, reined in her high-bred steed, whose wild spirits were curbed by slightest touch of her fair fingers, and, bowing to the knight with queenly dignity, she invited him to join her visitors, and share her hospitality. Robert de Bruce, knowing the high position of this gracious lady, and fearing to accept too eagerly such an unexpected honor, courteously declined the kind invitation, which he supposed had been offered only out of a courtly hospitality, as he had been found a stranger within her own domains. But the beautiful countess, moved by some strange attraction, which she did not stop to analyze, gaily laid hold of the reins of his steed, and laughingly replied:—

“Ah, noble knight! no trespasser on my grounds ever escapes imprisonment in my castle;” and thereupon she led him away, like a captive knight, to her castle of Turnberry.

For fifteen days he was the honored guest amidst all the festivities at the castle, and the first in the chase, by the side of the bewitching countess; and, having obtained her heart, as well as her hand, they were married, without the consent of the king, whose ward she was, or the knowledge of her relatives; in consequence of which the estates and castle of the young countess were seized by the sovereign, and were only saved to her by the payment of a large fine to the crown.

The eldest son of this brave knight and beautiful countess, who had risked so much for love, and whose marriage was as romantic as any described in Scottish tales of fiction, was Robert the Bruce, our hero, who was afterwards King Robert I. of Scotland. He was born on the 21st of March, 1274. He spent his early youth at Carrick, where he was distinguished for his brave spirit and persevering energy.

The grandfather of Robert the Bruce, Robert, lord of Annandale, refusing to take the oath of homage to his rival, John Baliol, when King Edward of England decided in his favor, gave up his Scottish domains in Annandale to his son, the earl of Carrick, lest he should hold them as Edward’s minion. This proceeding was also followed by the earl in 1293, in behalf of his son, Robert the Bruce, who was then serving the king of England. Notwithstanding the sympathy of young Bruce with the cause of Scotland, and his resolve to assert his claims to the Scottish crown, he had, during the greater part of the reign of his weak rival, adhered to the fortunes of Edward, deeming it better policy to yield himself to the uncontrollable necessity of circumstances, rather than risk his cause by undue haste. Sometimes he appeared to assert his own pretensions to the crown, and the independence of his country; and then, again, he yielded submission to the superior power of the English king, whose good-will he wished to keep until a favorable opportunity should offer itself of openly asserting his rights. Robert might have obtained the crown if he would have acknowledged the superior power of England, and submitted himself as a vassal to the English king, as Baliol had done. But he would not receive it on any other terms than as a free crown, which had been worn by his ancestors, and of right belonged to him.

When John Baliol was raised to sovereign power, the family of Bruce, although looking upon his elevation with envy, deemed it prudent to conceal their dissatisfaction, and the father of young Robert, who possessed the earldom of Carrick, in right of the countess his wife, resigned to his son these possessions, who was admitted to do homage to Baliol, the Scottish king, and thus became earl of Carrick.

When John Baliol had rebelled against Edward, king of England, young Bruce deemed it unsafe to rank under the banner of his natural sovereign, and therefore joined the side of Edward. Whereupon, the Scottish king, John Baliol, confiscated his estate of Annandale, as that of a traitor, and gave it to one of his followers, Comyn, earl of Buchan. Some of the English peers, suspecting the fidelity of young Bruce, who had now retired to the family estate in England, summoned him to Carlisle to do homage. He forthwith obeyed, and swore fidelity to the cause of Edward, and in order to show his loyalty, he assembled some of his followers, and overran the lands of Sir William Douglas, a Scottish patriot, and even carried away his wife and children. Stung with remorse, however, for this treacherous act, which was really extorted from him, young Bruce then joined the Scottish army, which Wallace, the brave patriot, together with the bishop of Glasgow, and steward of Scotland, had raised. The Scottish leaders were too much at variance amongst themselves to make a resolute stand. The English, knowing of their dissensions, sent messengers to treat with them. With the exception of William Wallace, they sued for peace, and threw down their arms without striking a blow. Bruce deemed it prudent to submit with his countrymen to the English king, but such had been the inconstancy of this nobleman, that the English demanded security for his future fidelity. Whereupon the bishop of Glasgow, the lord steward, and Alexander de Lindesay, came forward as his securities, until he should deliver over his daughter Marjory as an hostage for his loyalty. The conduct of young Bruce seems to us vacillating and unpatriotic, viewed from the present age; but he must be judged by the spirit of those troublesome times, and his after heroic deeds in his country’s behalf must soften a stern judgment regarding his changeable and uncertain conduct at this time. By the side of the staunch patriotism of the brave William Wallace, various acts of Robert Bruce, at this period of his life, are thrown into an unfavorable light, but his seeming treachery he regarded as actuated by a prudent policy. Whether he would have gained the deliverance of his country sooner, or suffered irretrievable defeat, had he earlier and more steadfastly espoused the patriotic cause, we find ourselves at a loss to determine, after a careful study of that conflicting epoch.

The history of Robert Bruce would not be complete without a brief account of William Wallace, which will help to give a clearer idea of the affairs of Scotland at that time.

William Wallace was descended from an ancient family in the west of Scotland. Having been provoked and insulted by an English officer, Wallace had put him to death, and therefore was obliged to flee for safety to the forests. Here he collected a large band of bold men. Some of these were outlawed for crimes; others, on account of bad fortune or hatred of the English, were willing participants in this daring scheme. William Wallace possessed gigantic strength of body as well as heroic courage, and so was admirably suited to become a leader in such a perilous enterprise.

This little band of Scottish warriors made many successful raids upon their English foes, until the fame of their exploits became so wide-spread that the English were filled with terror, and their enslaved countrymen were inspired with hopes of freedom from the galling yoke of oppression which fettered their hitherto independent country.

Wallace now determined to strike a decisive blow against the English government. Warrene, the governor of Scotland, had retired to England on account of his health, so that the administration of Scotland was left in the hands of Ormesby, the justiciary, and Cressingham, who held the office of treasurer. Wallace formed a plan of attacking Ormesby, at Scone; but the justiciary being informed of such intentions, fled in terror to England. All the other English officers imitated his example. The Scots, encouraged by these events, sprang to arms.

Many of the principal barons, including Sir William Douglas, openly countenanced the party of Wallace. Meanwhile, Warrene, earl of Surrey, collected an army of forty thousand men, in the north of England, and invaded Scotland. He suddenly entered Annandale, and came up with the enemy at Irvine, before the Scottish forces were prepared for battle. Many of the Scottish nobles, alarmed at this unforeseen event, submitted to the English, and renewed their oaths of fealty, and gave hostages for their fidelity, whereupon they received pardon for their rebellion. Others, who had not openly declared themselves, thought best to side with the English, and wait a better opportunity for avowing themselves as partisans of the Scottish cause. But Wallace persevered in his bold enterprise, and marched northwards and established his little army at Cambuskenneth. When Warrene advanced to Stirling, he found Wallace on the opposite banks of the Forth. Wallace had chosen a position near a narrow bridge which spanned the Forth, and as the English, with thoughtless precipitation, commenced to cross, Wallace attacked them before they were fully formed, and put them to rout, gaining a complete victory. Among the slain was Cressingham, who was so hated by the Scots that they flayed his dead body, and made saddle-girths of his skin. Warrene, finding his remaining forces much dismayed by this defeat, returned again to England.

Wallace was now made regent, or guardian of the country, by his enthusiastic followers; and his brave band, not content with their past exploits, invaded England, and laid waste many counties, returning to their native land loaded with spoils, and crowned with glory.

But now factions amongst the Scots themselves caused a disaster which deprived them of all they had gained. The Scottish nobles were unwilling that Wallace should be placed over them in power; and that patriot, to avoid jealousies and dissensions, resigned his authority as regent, retaining only his command over that body of warriors who refused to follow any other leader than the brave Wallace, under whose banner they had so often been led to victory.

The Scottish army was now divided into three bands. The chief power devolved on the steward of Scotland, and Comyn of Badenoch. The third band was commanded by the valiant Wallace. Edward, having collected the entire military force of England, Wales, and Ireland, marched into Scotland with an army of nearly one hundred thousand men.

When the two forces met in battle at Falkirk, the English archers chased the Scottish bowmen off the field, then shooting their arrows amongst the pikemen, they were thrown into confusion, and the English cavalry soon put the Scots to rout, with great slaughter. Some historians state that the loss of the Scots, upon this occasion, was fifty or sixty thousand men. In this general rout of the Scottish army, Wallace’s superior military skill and presence of mind enabled him to keep his band together, and retiring to the farther bank of a small river called the Carron, he marched along its banks protected from the enemy. Bruce, who was serving in the English army, recognized the valiant Scottish chief, and calling out to him, desired a conference. This being granted, he endeavored to convince Wallace of the helplessness of his rash enterprise, and advised him to submit. But the intrepid Wallace replied, that if he had hitherto acted alone as the champion of his country, it was because no other would assume the place. He exhorted Bruce to espouse the cause of his enslaved land, representing to him the glory of the enterprise, and hope of opposing successfully the power of the English. With enthusiasm he declared that he would prefer to give his own life, and the existence of the nation, when they could only be preserved by receiving the chains of a haughty victor.

Bruce was greatly moved by these sentiments of brave patriotism, and regretting his engagements to Edward, the enemy of his people, resolved to embrace the cause of his oppressed country.

We cannot follow the brave and valiant Wallace through his after career, and will but note his sad and unworthy fate. He was betrayed into Edward’s hands by Sir John Monteith, who had been his friend. Edward ordered Wallace to be carried in chains to London, where he was tried as a rebel or traitor, though he had never sworn fealty to England; and he was executed on Tower Hill. This barbarous cruelty of the English king only inflamed the Scots to fresh rebellions; and they now again sprang to arms, shouting, “Bruce to the rescue!”

Robert Bruce had long resolved to attempt to free his enslaved country. The death of William Wallace, and the memory of his patriotic exhortation after the battle of Falkirk, on the banks of the river Carron, added fresh impetus to this resolve; and his open avowal could be no longer delayed on account of two incidents which happened about this time.

Bruce had ventured to disclose this resolve to John Comyn, surnamed the Red, a powerful nobleman and warm friend. He found Comyn apparently in full accord with his avowed sentiments. But that nobleman afterwards treacherously revealed the secret to the English king. Edward did not immediately seize and imprison Bruce, because he desired also to ensnare his three brothers, who resided in Scotland. But he placed spies over Bruce; and a nobleman, Gilbert de Clare, one of the lords in Edward’s court, but also a friend of Robert Bruce, having learned of the danger which threatened him, and fearing to risk his own position by an open warning, sent Bruce a pair of golden spurs and a purse of gold by his servant, with this message: “My master sent these to thee, and bid me say, that the receiver would have sagacity enough to determine quickly to what use they should be put.”

Bruce was not slow in taking the warning. Evidently, some one at court had betrayed him! Ah, he had it! surely it could be no other than the Red Comyn!

There is a story told, that three days previous to this event, Robert Bruce was praying at the altar, in a chapel where afterwards stood St. Martin’s church. It was midnight, and Bruce was alone. With tearful eyes he exclaimed,—

“Yes, at the foot of this high altar, I’ll swear forthwith to fling the yoke from off me, in spite of hostile man and misleading fiend; knowing that if I put trust in, and pay obedience to, the King of kings, my triumph shall be sure, my victory complete!”

“Amen to that!” whispered a sweet and plaintive voice in the ear of the kneeling earl.

Bruce sprang to his feet, exclaiming, “Who art thou?” But he saw only a muffled figure glide swiftly behind one of the pillars. Bruce pursued; but the same soft voice replied:—

“I am neither foe to Scotland’s cause, nor shall be to him whose it is to see her righted, laggard although he be in responding to the urgent call. Farewell to the valiant Bruce! We may meet again, yet nevermore in this holy place; for even three days must not elapse and find him loitering near the stern and subtle Edward, or it will be woe to Scotland and to Scotland’s mightiest lord! Let the Bruce find his way to the altar, upon which I place a token for his keeping and his use—the bugle-horn of the immortal Wallace; with which he summoned to his standard his faithful countrymen, and led them to victory, till he was overcome by treachery and death. Take this sacred bugle-horn, and sound the call for Scotland’s freedom!”

Ere the astonished Bruce could answer, a figure shot past him, and was lost in the darkness. The earl, groping his way in the dim light to the altar, found there the precious relic promised; and he went forth under the starlit midnight sky, vowing to strike a blow for his enslaved country. Bruce needed no second warning of his danger, but the very night upon which he received the gilt spurs and purse of gold, he ordered two of his horses to be shod with reversed shoes, so that their course might not be traced, as snow had fallen, and the prints of the horses’ feet would therefore be plainly visible. Then Bruce and one faithful attendant, named Walter Kennedy, hastily mounted their horses, and rode out of London under cover of the darkness of the night.

As they left the great city behind them, Walter Kennedy ventured to say,—

“If I may be so bold, good master, where gang we on sic a night? Thou bidst me tell our talkative host at the inn, that Garrick’s lord had a love adventure on foot. But me thinkst thou art too true a knight for that.”

“Well said, my faithful Walter!” replied Bruce. “’Tis in truth a love adventure, but concerns no lady fair, for my good wife is fairer to me than all other women. But ’tis for love of country we go forth,—to free our bonny Scotland. Surely that were love adventure worthy of both a valiant knight and loyal husband. Still it is for sake of lovely woman also; for my sweet wife and fair daughters are e’en now in Scotland, and I fear me that their liberty, if not their lives, will soon be in danger, as I am warned that the wily King Edward is my bitter enemy and treacherous spy.”

“Ha! ’tis well spoken, good master!” exclaimed Kennedy, with enthusiasm, and lifting his Scotch bonnet from his head, he cried aloud, “Bruce to the rescue.”

“Hist, man!” said Bruce, laying his hand upon the bridle-rein of his faithful and loyal retainer; “knowest thou not that these English forests secrete hostile ears, to whom thy wild cry wouldst betray us? Not till I have gathered my forces and blown the bugle-horn of the valiant Wallace, will it be safe to openly sound that war-cry.”

The snow still fell thickly, and it was difficult to follow the right route through the blinding storm; but ere long the moon shone out with brightness, and seemed to smile upon their perilous adventure, and promise success.

After a few days Bruce arrived at Dumfries, in Annandale, the chief seat of his family interests. Here he found a great number of the Scottish noblemen assembled, and among the rest the treacherous John Comyn. These noblemen were astonished at the appearance of Bruce amongst them, and still more when he avowed his determination to live or die with them in the defence of the liberty of Scotland. All the nobles declared their unanimous resolution to rise to arms in the cause of their enslaved country. Comyn alone opposed this measure. Bruce, already sure of his treachery, followed Comyn on the dissolution of the assembly, and attacked him in the cloisters of the Gray Friars, through which he passed, and piercing him with his sword, left him bleeding on the ground. As Bruce rushed into the street, pale and agitated, Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick, one of his friends, asked him if all was well. “I fear I have slain Comyn,” replied Bruce, as he hastily mounted his horse.

“Such a matter must not be left to doubt,” exclaimed Kirkpatrick; “I’ll mak sicker!”—and dashing into the sanctuary, he ran his dagger into the heart of the dying Comyn.

This deed of Bruce and his friend, which would be justly condemned in the present age, was at that time regarded as an act of valiant patriotism and commendable policy. The family of Kirkpatrick were so proud of the deed that they took for the crest of their arms a hand with a bloody dagger, and chose for their motto those words, “I’ll mak sicker!” meaning, “I will make sure of it.”

Bruce now raised the standard of independence. Some priests and lords gathered round him, and boldly crowned him at Scone. On the day of the Annunciation, 1306, Scotland received her ninety-seventh king in the person of the valiant Robert Bruce; and all Scotland rang with the joyful war-cry, “Bruce to the rescue!”

The undertaking of Bruce was one of a gigantic nature. Yet amidst all the seemingly insurmountable obstacles which surrounded him from English foes and Scottish grandees,—who were many of them in league against him, for the faction of Baliol and the powerful family of Comyn were his avowed enemies,—and though he was subjected to frequent perils, dangerous ambuscades and escapes, and many individual conflicts of daring courage, Robert Bruce persisted firmly in his patriotic design of restoring his enslaved country to freedom, and giving protection to the people who had formerly called his ancestor their king.

Edward I. had now become aged and unwieldly, so that he could not readily mount on horseback. When he was informed of this daring attempt of Bruce to wrest from his power a kingdom which had cost him so much to gain and hold, he despatched a messenger to the Pope, praying him to issue the thunders of the Vatican against this bold traitor and murderer of Comyn, and that he would place under interdict all who should endeavor to aid him or draw a sword in defence of liberty. This sentence of interdict, which the Pope often issued against sovereigns for the most trivial offences, involved a nation in the greatest misery. The people were deprived of all the services of the church; no sacred rite was performed for them except the baptism of infants, and the administration of the communion to the dying.

The churches were deserted, and the altars were stripped of all the sacred ornaments. The dead lay uninterred, for the consecrated ground was prohibited; and when at last the corpses must be buried, they were hurriedly piled up in ditches and covered over, without any church service to soothe the surviving mourners or hallow the last rites to the dead. The thunders of the Roman pontiff, however, fell powerless upon Robert the Bruce, for he had previously secured the alliance of the Scottish clergy; and as they wished to remain independent of the English bishops, they braved the thunders of the hierarchy, and persisted in celebrating divine worship, notwithstanding its prohibition by the head of the church.

In spite of old age and sickness, King Edward began to make extensive preparations for marching personally against the Scots. Prince Edward, his son, was twenty-two years of age, and having not yet been knighted, the king conferred this distinction upon him and bestowed upon him his spurs. Whereupon the young knight then conferred the same honor upon two hundred and seventy young lords who were about to become his comrades in arms. All the company then met at a magnificent banquet. A golden net was placed upon the table, containing two swans, emblems of constancy and fidelity. Then the king, placing his hands upon their heads, swore to avenge the death of Comyn and to punish the rebels of Scotland, without sleeping for two nights in the same place, and to start immediately afterwards for Palestine, in order to rescue the Holy Sepulchre. The young men swore the same oath as the king, and then they started for the frontiers, the king following more slowly, as he was too feeble to travel except upon a litter.

The earl of Pembroke had been sent by King Edward, with a small army, into Scotland while the king was preparing his forces. Pembroke met the Scots at Methven, where a battle was fought in which the Scots were defeated, and many of them killed and taken prisoners; these were afterwards put to death with great cruelty by Edward’s orders. Bruce retired into the mountains with five hundred men. King Edward had only been able to proceed as far as Carlisle; but on his dying bed he was cruelly ordering the Scottish prisoners to be beheaded, and still directing the operations of his troops. Bruce was living in the forests with a few faithful companions. His wife, daughter, and sister shared his adventuresome life.

But as winter approached, the ladies were sent to the castle of Keldrummie, but they met with a sad fate here. The castle was stormed and taken by the English; Nigel Bruce, Robert’s younger brother, was cruelly put to death, and the queen of Scotland and her daughter, and also the sister of Bruce, were sent to England, where the queen was imprisoned, and the daughter and sister of King Robert were shut up in wooden cages at Berwick and Roxburgh, and were exposed to the public gaze.

Bruce’s little band were attacked by Lord Lorn, the Red Comyn’s nephew, and therefore a bitter foe. Finding that his faithful followers were falling under the battle-axes of their enemies, King Robert sounded a retreat; and with marvellous bravery Robert Bruce, mounted upon his war-horse and clad in armor, took his position in the defile and defended the approach alone. At length three men, famous for their strength, sprang forward together upon the royal champion, who calmly held his long sword on guard, and whose bright eyes glittered beneath his helmet. One seized the bridle of the horse; but Bruce raised his sword, and the arm of the assailant fell helpless, his hand being severed. Another fastened himself on the leg of the horseman; but the fiery war-horse reared, and again the invincible sword split his head open. The third now clutched the king’s cloak; but again the sword dealt its fatal blow, and the three assailants soon lay dead, while the valiant king escaped without a wound. Robert Bruce was now obliged to flee, and he took refuge in the small island of Rachrin. His retreat was unknown to his enemies, and a large reward was offered to whoever would give news of “Robert Bruce, lost, strayed, or stolen.”

During this time the Scottish king met with many adventures. One day, leaving the island of Rachrin, he sailed with his little band in some small boats to the isle of Arran. On landing they met a woman, of whom the king inquired if there had been any military arrivals.

“Surely, sir,” she replied, “I can tell you of some who lately blockaded the English governor’s castle. They maintain themselves in the woods near by.”

Robert Bruce, thinking that it was of brave Douglas of whom she spoke, blew his horn. It was answered by Sir James Douglas, who recognized the bugle of his sovereign, and when he hastily approached the king, they kissed for joy at such fortunate meeting. The small bands of King Robert and Douglas now crossed in boats to the opposite shore, and concealed themselves in a cavern, called the Cave of Colean. Learning that a large party of English were settled in the town of Turnberry, Bruce made a bold attack upon them, with three hundred men, and put two hundred of the English to the sword. The garrison, in the castle near by, were afraid to sally forth, as it was a dark night, and Bruce carried off the spoil, among which were the war-horses and household plate of the governor. Bruce now retired with his brave band to a green hill, called afterwards the “Weary Neuk.” Here they rested for three days, when they returned to the mountains to wait for reinforcements. It was then that King Robert learned of the sad fate of his wife, daughter, and sister, and the cruel death of his brother. But he humanely spared the life of every captive who fell into his hands, and did not yield to the temptation to revenge himself by their death, in retaliation for the wrongs he had suffered. In consequence of his privations and exposures, he was attacked with a severe sickness, and having found relief from a certain medicinal spring, when he had afterwards established himself upon his throne, he founded a priory of Dominican monks there, and ordered houses to be built around the spring for eight lepers, and a certain sum of money and meal was settled upon the lands of Fullarton, for their support. In compliment to Sir William Wallace, the relatives and descendants of that knight were invested with the right of placing the lepers upon this establishment, known as the “King’s Ease.” This was secured by charter, and the leper’s charter-stone, which was a large stone of elliptical shape, has been handed down to modern times.

King Robert had some very narrow escapes from death. It is reported 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 manoeuvre?”

“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.’”

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!