King Robert the Bruce died at Cardross on the Clyde, on June 7, 1329, a little more than a month before the completion of his fifty-fifth year. The cause of his death is said to have been leprosy. Barbour says it was the development of a severe cold, a benumbment contracted in the hardships of his early wanderings. Apart from specific disease, the strain of his laborious reign of nearly a quarter of a century would have shaken the strongest constitution of man.

In the last three years he had been struck by two severe bereavements: the death of his son-in-law, Sir Walter the Steward, a knight of great promise, on April 9, 1326; and the death of the queen, at Cullen, on October 26, 1327. In the latter year, indeed, in spite of increasing illness, he had taken the field in Ireland and in Northumberland. But he had been unable to attend the marriage of David and Joan at Berwick in July 1328. Still he continued to move about quietly. When, however, Douglas brought him back from a visit to Galloway in the end of March 1329, it was not to be concealed that 'there was no way for him but death.' And, accordingly, he set his house in order.

On October 15, 1328, the Pope had at last granted absolution to Robert from the excommunication pronounced by the cardinals, and, on November 5, authorised his confessor to give him plenary remission in the hour of death.

At a parliament held on November 14, 1328, at Scone, it had been settled that, in the event of David's dying without heir male of his body begotten, Robert the Steward, son of Marjory, should succeed; and that, if King Robert died during David's minority, Randolph should be regent, and, failing Randolph, Douglas. David and Joan were crowned, and David received homage and fealty.

On May 11, 1329, the King assembled his prelates and barons to hear his last wishes. He gave directions for liberal largess to religious houses, with special consideration for Melrose Abbey, where he desired his heart to be buried. He declared his long-cherished intention—Froissart says his 'solemn vow'—after bringing his realm to peace, 'to go forth and war with the enemies of Christ, the adversaries of our holy Christian faith.' As he had been unable to carry out his fixed purpose, he wished his heart to be taken and borne against the foes of God. On Douglas was laid this great and noble charge. Froissart mentions a specific instruction: 'I wish that you convey my heart to the Holy Sepulchre where our Lord lay, and present it there, seeing my body cannot go thither. And wherever you come,' added the King, 'let it be known that you carry with you the heart of King Robert of Scotland, at his own instance and desire, to be presented at the Holy Sepulchre.' Douglas solemnly pledged himself to this last faithful service.

On the death of King Robert, his heart was embalmed, and enclosed in a silver casket 'cunningly enamelled,' which Douglas bore always about his neck. Strangely enough, even in death, the King came in conflict with Rome; for the excision of his heart was a breach of a Papal Bull of 1299, involving excommunication of the mutilators, and excluding the body from ecclesiastical burial. On August 13, 1331, the Pope, at the prayer of Randolph, granted absolution to all that had taken part 'in the inhuman and cruel treatment' of the King's body.

The body was embalmed, and carried through the Lennox, and by Dunipace and Cambuskenneth, to repose with the body of the Queen in Dunfermline Abbey—since Malcolm Canmore, the last resting-place of the Kings of Scotland. Over the King's grave was erected a marble monument, which he had ordered from Paris a twelvemonth before his death. It might have been supposed that never in time would any Scotsman lay a rude hand on the sepulchre of the greatest of Scottish kings; yet on March 28, 1560, an insensate rabble of 'Reformers' razed the abbey to the ground, and broke in pieces the royal monument. In 1818, when foundations for a new church were being cleared, there were found, in a grave in front of the spot where the high altar of the Abbey Church had stood, the bones of a man whose breast-bone had been sawn asunder, and who had been buried in fine linen shot with gold thread. The probability that these were the bones of Bruce was enhanced by the surrounding fragments of black and white marble, well-polished, carved, and gilt. There lay also a mouldering skull, which five centuries agone may have held the powerful brain that dominated the field of Bannockburn.

Douglas set about his preparations. Now that peace with England was established, and Randolph held the reins of State, there was no national reason why Douglas could not be spared for a time. Nor would warriors like Bruce and his paladins have ever weighed for a moment the risks of the sacred mission. It seems a misapprehension to suggest either selfishness or ingratitude on the part of the dying King. Nor is there any substantial ground for imagining that Robert feared any lack of harmony between his two great lieutenants. Barbour's casual suggestion of petty rivalry between them cannot weigh for a moment against their constant association in scores of enterprises. Their rivalry was of noble quality. The King had made a knightly vow, and that vow he must, as far as might be, perform; it was hardly less a national than a personal obligation.

On September 1, Douglas obtained from Edward III. letters of protection for seven years, and a letter of commendation to Alfonso XI., King of Castile and Leon. On February 1, 1329–30, the day of the patron saint of his house, St Bride, he bestowed lands on the Abbey of Newbattle to secure her special intercession in his spiritual interests. Shortly thereafter he set out on his mission, with 'a noble company'—one knight banneret, seven other knights, twenty-six squires, and a large retinue. According to Froissart, he sailed from Montrose to Sluys, where he lay twelve days, thinking he might be joined by other knights 'going beyond the sea to Jerusalem'; and then to Valencia in Spain. According to Barbour he sailed from Berwick direct to Seville. In any case, he proceeded to the camp of Alfonso, then on his frontier warring against Osmyn, the Moorish King of Granada, and was received with honour befitting his fame and his mission. The knights with Alfonso were eagerly curious to see the famous Scot; and one notable warrior expressed his great surprise that Douglas's face was not seamed with scars like his own. 'Praised be God!' said Douglas, 'I always had hands to defend my head.'

On August 25, 1330, the Christian and Moorish armies faced each other near Theba on the Andalusian frontier. Froissart states that Douglas mistook a forward movement of the Spanish troops for the onset of battle, and charged the Moors furiously; but the Spaniards had halted and left him unsupported. The story seems little consonant with Douglas's warlike intelligence. Barbour says that Alfonso assigned to Douglas the command of the van—which is very unlikely, unless he also assigned him an interpreter. He also asserts that Douglas hurled the precious casket 'a stone-cast and well more' into the ranks of the enemy, exclaiming—

and that he fought his way to it and recovered it, 'taking it up with great daintie.' This, too, is but a fantastic embellishment of the cloister. Barbour, of course, proceeds to rout the Moors and to make Douglas press on ahead of his company, attended by only ten men. Seeing Sir William de St Clair surrounded, however, Douglas spurred to his friend's rescue, but was overpowered by numbers and slain. Among those that fell with him were Sir William de St Clair and Sir Robert and Sir Walter Logan.

The bones of Douglas were brought home by Sir William de Keith, who had been kept out of the battle by a broken arm, and were buried in the church of St Bride of Douglas. The silver casket with the heart of Bruce was buried by Randolph, 'with great worship,' in Melrose Abbey. Douglas has been charged with breach of trust. It is argued that he ought not to have gone to Spain, but to have crossed the continent to Venice or the south of France, and made direct for Jerusalem. It is hardly worth while to remark that this is just what Boece says he did, his death taking place in Spain on his way home. It is more to the purpose that the Holy Sepulchre was then in the hands of the Saracens, and that Spain was the central point of opposition to the infidels. But what Douglas ought or ought not to have done depends solely on the precise terms of his trust; and it may be taken as certain that he knew King Robert's mind better than either Barbour or Froissart, or even their critics, and that he decided on his course in consultation with Randolph and the other magnates, prelates as well as barons. Edward's safe conduct and commendatory letter show by their terms that his going to Spain was no afterthought, but his original intention. To attribute to Douglas lack of 'strength of purpose' is to miss the whole significance of his career.

King Robert must obviously have been a man of powerful physique and iron constitution. The early hardships and continuous toils of his reign could not have been sustained by any ordinary frame; and his recorded feats of strength, such as in the case of Wallace have been scouted as fabulous, have always been accepted without question. The Merton MS. of the 'Flores Historiarum' calls him 'a very powerful man,' on the occasion of his striking down Comyn. The killing of Sir Henry de Bohun in face of both armies speaks convincingly of muscle as well as of nerve. If the bones discovered in 1818 were his, they indicate that he stood about six feet in height. 'In figure,' says Major, 'he was graceful and athletic, with broad shoulders. His features were handsome, and he had the yellow hair of the northern race, and blue and sparkling eyes.'

Bruce's outstanding characteristic, in Barbour's analysis, was his 'hardiment:' he 'hardy was of head and hand.' That is to say, he was a strong, bold, and resolute soldier. But with hardiment he joined 'wit'—judgment, prudence, measure; and the union of the two is 'worship.' This 'worship' was undoubtedly the fundamental cause of Bruce's great career; and the most simple and conspicuous illustration of it is seen in the dramatic episode of De Bohun's death. Fordun pronounces that he 'was, beyond all living men of his day, a valiant knight.' And Barbour sums up—

It was this splendid hardiment controlled and directed by cool judgment, and supported by untiring industry in details, that ranked King Robert not merely as the second knight in Christendom, but as one of the most renowned generals of the age. His patient drudgery of preparation, his wary dispositions, his firmness of resolution, his promptitude to mark and remedy a weakness of his own and to strike hard at a weakness of the enemy, were superbly illustrated on the field of Bannockburn. King Robert's military renown does not need the false attribution of tactical discoveries that he certainly did not make. It was not Bannockburn that showed him what infantry could do against mailed cavalry; nor was it the example of the Flemings at Courtrai. Sir William Wallace had proved the power of the schiltron before Bannockburn and before Courtrai; and he is not to be deprived of the honour by the imperfect historical knowledge of Sir Thomas Gray. If the tactic was known in these islands before the time of Wallace, or if Wallace gained the knowledge of it from elsewhere, the fact yet remains to be historically demonstrated. King Robert and his generals simply practised the lesson of Wallace with notable ability. Nor did they advance beyond Wallace in the still more important principles of large strategy. But, apart from this, the Bruce's capacity as a military commander stands forth pre-eminent. And though many painful incidents inevitably stain the records of his campaigns, they are attributable more to the age than to the man. It is impossible to charge on his memory any reckless or wanton cruelty. His mind with all its sternness ever tended to clemency, and his constitutional prudence, or measure, forbade purposeless excess. The incessant demands of war left Robert but scant leisure for internal administration, notwithstanding the diligent service of his eminently capable lieutenants. Apart from necessary inference and from incidental indications, his care for civil order and good government is conspicuously manifested in the legislation of the Scone Parliament, December 3, 1318; and there is abundant evidence of his fostering watchfulness over the commercial traffic with Continental countries. The Cambuskenneth Parliament, July 15, 1326, has a constitutional interest, as the first great council where burgesses are known to have sat with the baronage. The trading communities were worth consultation when a heavy war tax was to be levied, and the country was so cruelly impoverished. There can be no doubt that Robert's management of home affairs was watchful, energetic, and liberal.

In the conduct of his foreign relations, the Bruce proved himself an adept in diplomacy. His dealings with the Continental princes, mainly in regard to shipping and commerce, were conciliatory and businesslike. His political transactions with the English sovereign and with the Pope were uniformly characterised by astute perception, reasonableness to the point of generosity, courteous but rigid firmness on every essential point, and fidelity to engagements.

The occupations of the King's late and brief leisure may be read between the lines of the Exchequer Rolls: how he kept open house at Cardross, dispensed gifts and charities, pottered (with Randolph) at shipbuilding, sailed his great ship between Cardross and Tarbet, built Tarbet Castle, added a wing to his mansion, tended his garden, and so forth; and how he kept a pet lion at Perth, where he seems to have spent parts of his last two years.

Bruce was twice married. First, to Isabel, daughter of the Earl of Mar, the mother of Marjory. Second, to Elizabeth, eldest daughter of De Burgh, Earl of Ulster, who bore him two sons and two daughters: Matilda and Margaret, after 1316; David, March 5, 1324; and John, who died in infancy. The most distinguished of his other children, Sir Robert de Brus, fell at Dupplin in 1332. Bruce has been called by Lord Hailes (after Rapin) the 'restorer of Scottish monarchy.' The monarchy was a small matter; Bruce was the restorer of Scottish independence. But the conditions of the case are apt to be misconceived. The incalculable services of Sir William Wallace, through nearly ten years of incomparably heroic struggle against the great Edward in his full vigour, are too often forgotten, or belittled. But for Wallace, it is more than probable that Bruce would never have been King of Scotland. He built on Wallace's foundations.

Comyn being dead, Bruce possessed the admitted right to the crown, without even the semblance of competition—a powerful aid in his enterprise. He started in the acquisitive spirit of an Anglo-Norman baron, and was carried through largely by his personal gallantry, his military capacity, his consummate prudence, and his indomitable resolution. Though the mass of the people rallied to him but slowly through many years, yet he at once gained the more ardent patriots; and, in particular, he had the instant support of the leading prelates, and, at the Dundee Parliament on February 24, 1308–9, the formal adhesion of the clergy generally. Nor is it easy to overestimate the aid of three such paladins as Edward de Brus, Randolph, and Douglas. And not the least of the grounds of Bruce's success is to be sought in the feebleness and foolishness of Edward II. and the stupid oppressions practised by his local officers. Still, with full acknowledgment of these supports, King Robert was and is the central figure in the final establishment of the independence of Scotland.

One is strongly inclined to believe that the services of Sir Edward de Brus, Lord of Galloway and Earl of Carrick, have been seriously underrated, partly no doubt through his own besetting fault. When we remember how boldly he is said to have counselled action on the return from Rathlin, how vigorously he cleared the English out of his lordship of Galloway, and how ably he bore the brunt of the heaviest fighting at Bannockburn, we cannot but suspect that his glory has been unduly dimmed by the splendour of his brother, and by the inappreciation of his monkish critics. The main certainty about his hapless expedition to Ireland is the certainty that he fought with the most chivalrous ardour. He was not only 'hardy' but, according to Barbour, 'outrageous hardy'—a prototype of Hotspur. His habitual exaltation of mind is well expressed by the Archdeacon, when he describes him in face of vastly superior numbers at Kilross:

Undoubtedly his 'hardiment' overbore his 'wit'; yet one may safely doubt whether the Archdeacon was the man to take his military measure. At the very least, he must have been a powerful force in urging unmitigated hostility against the English; and his dash in battle must have proved a potent force on many a stricken field.

In the absence of Sir Edward, Randolph ranked as first lieutenant. He was Bruce's nephew, son of Isabel de Brus and Thomas Randolph of Strathdon.2 From Lord of Nithsdale, he blossomed into Earl of Moray, and Lord of Annandale and of Man. As soldier, diplomatist, and statesman, he displayed pre-eminent ability. Barbour represents him as of moderate stature, proportionably built, 'with broad visage, pleasing and fair,' and a courteous manner. 'A man he was,' says Lord Hailes, most justly, 'to be remembered while integrity, prudence, and valour are held in esteem among men.' He survived King Robert a little over three years.

The good Sir James of Douglas ranked second to Randolph only because Randolph was the King's nephew. From his early teens he displayed a gallant and chivalrous spirit, a mind set on honour, and withal a conspicuous gift of strategic device. If we may rely on Barbour, he was even more cautious than the well-balanced Randolph; yet, when occasion served, he could display the adventurous dash of Sir Edward de Brus; and he exhibited a splendid tenacity. According to Froissart, he was 'esteemed the bravest and most enterprising knight in the two kingdoms.' Like most great commanders, he rendered his men devoted to him by a large generosity, not merely in division of the spoils, but also in recognition of valiant deeds. Barbour tells us that

a bold principle that often decided the fight—like Bruce's principle of striking hard at the foremost line. After he slew Sir Robert de Neville,

And Barbour had often heard tell that wives would frighten their wayward children into obedience by threatening to deliver them to the Black Douglas. The Leicester chronicler says 'the English feared him more than all other Scotsmen'; for 'every archer he could take, either his right hand he cut off or his right eye he plucked out,' and, for the sake of the archers, he always took his vengeance on an Englishman in the severest form he could devise. This view is not corroborated, however, and it may be a generalisation from some particular case. But, while terrible to the enemy—'a brave hammerer of the English,' as Fordun says—Douglas is represented as charming to his friends.

Scott's picture of the Knight of the Tomb, while based on Barbour's description, verges on caricature.

Was King Robert the Bruce a patriot? The question, startling as it may be, especially to trustful readers of uncritical laudations, may no longer be avoided.

It is not necessary to repeat the outlines of his political attitude during the storm and stress of Wallace's memorable struggle. Can it be supposed, then, that a man may become patriotic after his thirty-first year? With his assumption of the kingly office, Bruce's baronial and royal interests coincided with the interests of Scotland, and it may be that some feeling of the nature of patriotism may have thus developed in his breast. The manifesto of the barons and other laymen in 1320, apart from its dramatic purpose, may be taken to indicate that the external reasons for the King's profession of patriotism were not less potent than his private reasons. Let us concede to him the benefit even of grievous doubt. For, be his motives what they may, the practical outcome was the decisive establishment of the independence of the realm of Scotland, and he remains for ever the greatest of the line of Scottish Kings.