CHAPTER XVII.
"Thou art idle, maiden; wherefore not gather thy robes and other geartogether, as thy companions? Knowest thou not in twenty-four hours weshall be, heaven willing, safely sheltered under the holy wing of St.Duthac?" was Queen Margaret's address to Agnes, about a week after theconversation we have recorded. There were many signs of confusion andtokens of removal in her scanty train, but the maiden of Buchan stoodapart, offering assistance when needed, but making no arrangements forherself.
"I seek not such holy keeping, may it please you, madam," she replied."I do not quit this castle."
"How!" exclaimed Margaret. "Art thou mad?"
"In what, royal madam?"
"Or hath love blinded thee, girl? Knowest thou not Hereford andLancaster are advancing as rapidly as their iron-clad force permits, andin less than seven days the castle must be besieged in form?"
"I know it, madam."
"And thou wilt brave it, maiden?--dare a danger that may be avoided? Isthy life of so little worth, or if not thy life, thy liberty?"
"When a life is wrapt up in one--when there is none on earth save thatone to whom that life is of any worth, wherefore should I seek safetysave by his side? Royal madam, I am not mad nor blind; but desolate asI am,--nay, were I not 'twould be the same--I covet to share Sir Nigel'sfate; the blow that strikes him shall lay me at his side, be it inprison or in death. My safety is with him; and were the danger ten timesas great as that which threatens now, I'd share it with him still."
"Nay, thou art but a loving fool, Agnes. Be advised, seek safety in thesanctuary; peril cannot reach us there."
"Save by the treachery of the dark-browed earl who grants that shelter.Nay, pardon me, madam; thou lovest not to list that theme, believing himas honorable and faithful as thyself. God grant he prove so! If," sheadded, with a faint smile, "if it be such mad folly to cling to abeloved one in danger as in joy, in adversity as in triumph, forgive me,royal lady, but thy maidens have learned that tale of thee."
"And would to God I could teach them thus again!" exclaimed the queen,tears coursing down her cheeks. "Oh, Agnes, Agnes, were Robert here, notdeath itself should part us. For my child's sake, for his, I go hencefor safety. Could my resting, nay, my death benefit him, Agnes, I wouldmeet it, weak as thou deemest me."
"Nay, nay, I doubt it not, my queen," answered Agnes, soothingly, "It isbest thou shouldst find some place of repose till this struggle be past.If it end in victory, it will be joy to hail thee once again within itswalls; if otherwise, better thy safety should be cared for."
"But for thee, my child, is it not unmaidenly for thee to linger here?"
"It would be, royal madam," and a bright vivid flush glowed on her palecheeks, "but for the protection of the Lady Seaton, who will not leaveher husband."
"I may not blame her, after mine own words," said the queen,sorrowfully; "yet she is one I could have wished beside me. Ha! thattrumpet. Merciful heaven! is it the foe?" and trembling with alarm, shedispatched attendant after attendant to know the cause.
The English force was known to be so near that many a warrior-heart beatquicker at any unusual blast, and it was not marvel the queen's terrorsshould very often affect her attendants. Agnes alone, amid the maidentrain, ever retained a calm self-possession; strange in one who, tillthe last eventful year, had seemed such a very child. Her mothertrembled lest the turmoils and confusion of her country should everapproach her or those she loved; how might she, timid, nay; oftenfearful, weak, and yielding, as the flower on the heath, how might sheencounter storm, and grief, and care? Had her mother's eye been on hernow, and could have followed her in yet deeper trials, that motherscarce had known her child.
She it was whose coolness enabled her easily to recognize and explainthe trumpet's blast. It was an officer with an escort from the Lord ofRoss, informing the queen that, from late intelligence respecting themovements of the English, he deemed it better they should not defertheir departure from the castle another night.
On the receipt of this message all was increased hurry and confusion inthe apartments of the queen. The advice was to be followed on theinstant, and ere sunset the litters and mules, and other accommodationfor the travellers, waited their pleasure in the outer court.
It was with a mien of princely dignity, a countenance grave andthoughtful, with which the youthful seneschal attended the travellers tothe great gate of the castle. In after years the expression of hisfeatures flashed again and again upon those who looked upon him them.Calmly he bade his sister-in-law farewell, and bade her, should she bethe first to see his brother, tell him that it was at her own free willand pleasure she thus departed; that neither advice nor persuasion onhis part had been used; she had of her own will released him from hissacred charge; and if ill came of it, to free his memory from blame.
"Trust me, Nigel; oh, surely you may trust me! You will not part from mein anger at my wilfulness?" entreated Margaret, as clinging to his arm,she retained him a few minutes ere he placed her in the litter.
"In anger, my sweet sister, nay, thou wrongest me!" he said, a brightsmile dispersing a moment the pensive cast of his features. "In sorrow,perchance, for I love not him to whose care thou hast committed thyself;yet if ill await this castle, and thou wert with me, 'twould enhance itsbitterness. No, tis better thou shouldst go; though I would it were notto the Lord of Ross."
"And wherefore?" demanded the deep stern voice of the officer besidehim.
"Because I doubt him, Archibald Macfarlane," sternly replied the youngnobleman, fixing his flashing eyes upon him; "and thou mayst so informhim an thou wilt. An I do him wrong, let him deliver the Queen ofScotland and her attendants in safety to King Robert, in the forthcomingspring, and Nigel Bruce will crave forgiveness for the wrong that hehath done him; nay, let his conduct give my doubts the lie, and I willeven thank him, sir."
Turning on his heel, he conducted the queen to her litter, and bade agraceful farewell to all her fair companions, bidding good angels speedthem on their way. The heavy gates were thrown back, the portcullisraised and the drawbridge lowered, and amid a parting cheer from themen-at-arms drawn up in the court in military homage to their queen, thecavalcade departed, attended only by the men of Ross, for the number ofthe garrison was too limited to admit of their attendance anywhere, savewithin and on the walls.
With folded arms and an anxious brow, Sir Nigel stood beside the gate,marking the progress of the train; a gentle voice aroused him. Itplayfully said, "Come to the highest turret, Nigel, there thou wilttrace their path as long as light remains." He started, for Agnes was athis side. He drew her arm within his own, briefly gave the command toclose the gate and make all secure, and turned with her in the directionof the keep.
"Have I done right," he said, as, when they had reached a more retiredpath, he folded his arm caressingly around her, and drew her closer tohim, "to list thy pleadings, dearest, to grant thy boon? oh, if _they_go to safety, why did I listen to thee and permit thee to remain?"
"Nay, there is equal safety within these walls, Nigel. Be assured, thineAgnes hath neither regret nor doubt when thou art by her side," sheanswered, still playfully. "I love not the sanctuaries they go to seek;the stout hearts and trusty blades of warriors like thee and thine, myNigel, are better and truer safeguards."
"Alas! Agnes, I fear me not in cases such as these. I am not wont to bedesponding, but from the small number of true men which garrison thiscastle, I care not to acknowledge I had loved better to meet my foe onopen ground. Here I can scarce know friend from foe; traitors may bearound me, nay, in my very confidence, and I know it not."
"Art thou not infected with Queen Margaret's suspicions, Nigel? Whyponder on such uneasy dreams?"
"Because, my best love, I am a better adept in the perusal of men'scountenances and manners than many, and there are signs of loweringdiscontent and gloomy cowardice, arguing ill for unity of measures, onwhich our safety greatly rests. Yet my fancies may be wrong, and at allhazards my duty shall be done. The is
sue is in the hands of a higherpower; we cannot do wrong in committing ourselves to Him, for thouknowest He giveth not the battle to the strong, and right and justice wehave on Scotland's side."
Agnes looked on his face, and she saw, though he spoke cheerfully, histhoughts echoed not his words. She would not express her own anxiety,but led him gently to explain to her his plan of defence, and prepareher for all she might have to encounter.
Five days passed, and all within and without the walls remained thesame; the sixth was the Sabbath, and the greater part of the officersand garrison were assembled in the chapel, where divine service wasregularly read by the Abbot of Scone, whom we should perhaps before havementioned as having, at the king's especial request, accompanied thequeen and her attendants to Kildrummie. It was a solemn yet stirringsight, that little edifice, filled as it was with steel-clad warriorsand rude and dusky forms, now bending in one prayer before their God.The proud, the lowly, the faithless, and the true, the honorable and thebase, the warrior, whose whole soul burned and throbbed but for hiscountry and his king, the coward, whose only thought was how he couldobtain life for himself and save the dread of war by the surrender ofthe castle--one and all knelt there, the workings of those diversehearts known but to Him before whom they bent. Strangely and mournfullydid that little group of delicate females gleam forth amidst the darkerand harsher forms around, as a knot of fragile flowers blooming alone,and unsheltered amidst some rude old forest trees, safe in their ownlowliness from the approaching tempest, but liable to be overwhelmed inthe fall of their companions, whom yet they would not leave. As calmlyas in his own abbey the venerable abbot read the holy service, andadministered the rites of religion to all who sought. It was in the deepsilence of individual prayer which preceded the chanting of theconclusion of the service that a shrill, peculiar blast of a trumpet washeard. On the instant it was recognized as the bugle of the warderstationed on the centre turret of the keep, as the blast which told thefoe was at length in sight. Once, twice, thrice it sounded, at irregularintervals, even as Nigel had commanded; the notes were caught up by thewarders on the walls, and repeated again and again. A sudden cry of "Thefoe!" broke from the soldiers scattered round, and again all wassilence. There had been a movement, almost a confusion in some parts ofthe church, but the officers and those who had followed them from themountains neither looted up nor stirred. The imperative gesture of theabbot commanded and retained order and silence, the service proceeded;there might have been some faltering in the tones of the choir, but theswelling notes of the organ concealed the deficiency.
The eye of Agnes voluntarily sought her betrothed. His head was stillbent down in earnest prayer, but she had not looked long before she sawhim raise it, and lift up his clasped hands in the evident passionatefervor of his prayer. So beautiful, so gloriously beautiful was thatcountenance thus breathing prayer, so little seemed that soul of earth,that tears started to the eyes of Agnes, and the paleness of strongemotion over-spread the cheek, aye, and the quivering lip, which the warand death-speaking trumpet had had no power to disturb.
"Let me abide by him, merciful Father, in weal or in woe; oh, part usnot!" she prayed again and yet again, and the bright smile which nowencircled his lips--for he had caught her glance--seemed an answer toher prayer.
It was a beautiful, though perhaps to many of the inmates of Kildrummiea terrible sight, which from the roof of the turret now presented itselfto their view. The English force lay before them, presenting many asolid phalanx of steel, many a glancing wood of spears. Nor were theseall; the various engines used in sieges at this time, battering-rams,and others, whose technical names are unfortunately lost to us, but usedto fling stones of immense weight to an almost incredible distance;arbalists, and the incomparable archer, who carried as many lives asarrows in his belt; wagons, heavily laden, with all things necessaryfor a close and numerous encampment--all these could be plainlydistinguished in rapid advance towards the castle, marking their paththrough the country by the smoke of the hamlets they had burned. Manyand eager voices resounded in various parts of the castle; numbers hadthronged to the tower, with their own eyes to mark the approach of theenemy, and to report all they had seen to their companions below,triumphantly or despondingly, according to the temper of their minds.Sir Nigel Bruce and Sir Christopher Seaton, with others of the superiorofficers, stood a little apart, conversing eagerly and animatedly, andfinally separating, with an eager grasp of the hand, to perform theduties intrusted to each.
"Ha! Christine, and thou, fair maiden," exclaimed Sir Christopher,gayly, as on turning he encountered his wife and Agnes arm-in-arm. "Bymine honor, this is bravely done; ye will not wait in your tiring-bowertill your knights seek ye, but come for information yourselves. Well,'tis a goodly company, is't not? as gallant a show as ever mustered, bymy troth. Those English warriors tacitly do us honor, and proclaim ourworth by the numbers of gallant men they bring against us. We shallreturn the compliment some day, and pay them similar homage."
His wife smiled at his jest, and even felt reassured, for it was not thejest of a mind ill at ease, it was the same bluff, soldier spirit shehad always loved.
"And, Nigel, what thinkest thou?"
"Think, dearest?" he said, answering far more the appealing look ofAgnes than her words; "think? that we shall do well, aye, nobly well;they muster not half the force they led me to expect. The very sight ofthem has braced me with new spirit, and put to ignominious flight thedoubts and dreams I told thee had tormented me."
Movement and bustle now pervaded every part of the castle, but all wasconducted with an order and military skill that spoke well for theofficers to whom it was intrusted. The walls were manned; pickaxes andlevers, for the purposes of hurling down stones on the besiegers,collected and arranged on the walls; arms polished, and so arranged thatthe hand might grasp them at a minute's warning, were brought from thearmory to every court and tower; the granaries and storehouses werevisited, and placed under trustworthy guards. A band of picked men,under an experienced officer, threw themselves into the barbacan,determined to defend it to the last. Sir Nigel and Sir Christophervisited every part of the outworks, displaying the most unceasing care,encouraged the doubting, roused the timid, and cheered and inspired theboldest with new confidence, new hope; but one feeling appeared topredominate--liberty and Scotland seemed the watchword of one and all.
Onward, like a mighty river, rolled the English force; nearer andnearer, till the middle of the second day saw them encamped within aquarter of a mile from the palisades and outworks raised on either sideof the barbacan. Obtaining easy possession of the river--for Sir Nigel,aware of the great disparity of numbers, had not even attempted itsdefence--they formed three distinct bodies round the walls, thestrongest and noblest setting down before the barbacan, as the principalpoint of attack. Numerous as they had appeared in the distance, wellprovided with all that could forward their success, it was not tillcloser seen all their strength could be discovered; but there was nochange in the hopes and gallant feelings of the Scottish officers andtheir men-at-arms, though, could hearts have been read, the timidity,the doubts, the anxious wishes to make favorable peace with the Englishhad in some of the original garrison alarmingly increased.
Before, however, any recourse was made to arms, an English herald,properly supported, demanded and obtained admission within the gates, ona mission from the Earls of Hereford and Lancaster, to Sir ChristopherSeaton, Sir Nigel Bruce, and others of command. They were summoned todeliver up the castle and themselves to their liege lord and sovereign,King Edward; to submit to his mercy, and grace should be shown to them,and safe conduct granted to all those who, taking refuge within thewalls and adopting a position of defence, proclaimed themselves rebelsand abettors of rebellion; that they should have freedom to return totheir homes uninjured, not only in their persons but in theirbelongings; and this should be on the instant the gates were thrownopen, and the banner of England had taken the place of that of Scotlandnow floating from their keep.
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"Tell thy master, thou smooth-tongued knave," burst angrily from thelips of Sir Christopher Seaton, as he half rose from his seat andclenched his mailed hand at the speaker, and then hastily checkinghimself, added, in a lower tone, "Answer him, Nigel; thou hast eloquenceat thy command, I have none, save at my sword's point, and my temper issomewhat too hot to list such words, courteous though they may be."
"Tell your master, sir herald," continued Nigel, rising as his colleagueflung himself back on his seat, and though his voice was sternly calm,his manner was still courteous, "tell them they may spare themselves thetrouble, and their followers the danger, of all further negotiation. Weare Scottish men and Scottish subjects, and consequently to all theoffers of England we are as if we heard not. Neither rebels nor abettorsof rebels, we neither acknowledge the necessity of submitting ourselvesto a tyrant's mercy, nor desire the advantage of his offered grace.Return, sir herald; we scorn the conditions proposed. We are here forScotland and for Scotland's king, and for them we know both how to liveand how to die."
His words were echoed by all around him, and there was a sharp clang ofsteel, as if each man half drew his eager sword, which spoke yet truerthan mere words. Dark brows and features stern were bent upon the heraldas he left their presence, and animated council followed his departure.
No new movement followed the return of the herald. For some days nodecisive operation was observable in the English force; and when theydid attack the outworks, it was as if more to pass the time than withany serious intent. It was a period of fearful suspense to the besieged.Their storehouses were scarcely sufficiently provided to hold out forany great length of time, and they almost imagined that to reduce themto extremities by famine was the intention of the besiegers. Thegreatest danger, if encountered hand to hand in the _melee_, waswelcome, but the very idea of a slow, lingering fate, with the enemybefore them, mocking their misery, was terrible to the bravest. A daringsally into the very thickest of the enemy's camp, headed by Nigel andhis own immediate followers, carrying all before them, and when bynumbers compelled to retreat, bearing both booty and prisoners withthem, roused the English from their confident supposition that thebesieged would soon be obliged to capitulate, and urged them intoaction. The ire of the haughty English blazed up at what seemed suchdaring insolence in their petty foe. Decisive measures were resorted toon the instant, and increased bustle appeared to pervade both besiegersand besieged.
"Pity thou art already a knight, Nigel!" bluffly exclaimed Seaton,springing into his saddle by torchlight the following morning, as with agallant band he was about dashing over the drawbridge, to second thedefenders of the barbacan and palisades. "How shall we reward thee, myboy? Thou hast brought the foe to bay. Hark! they are there before me,"and he spurred on to the very centre of the _melee_.
Sir Nigel was not long after him. The enemy was driven back with fearfulloss. Scaling-ladders were thrown down; the archers on the walls, betteraccustomed to their ground, marking their foes by the torches theycarried, but concealed themselves by the darkness, dealt destructionwith as unerring hand as their more famous English brethren. Shouts andcries rose on either side; the English bore back before the sweepingstroke of Nigel Bruce as before the scythe of death. For the brief spaceof an hour the strife lasted, and still victory was on the side of theScots--glorious victory, purchased with scarce the loss of ten men. TheEnglish fled back to their camp, leaving many wounded and dead on thefield, and some prisoners in the hands of the Scots. Ineffectual effortswere made to harass the Scots, as with a daring coolness seldomequalled, they repaired the outworks, and planted fresh palisades tosupply those which had fallen in the strife, in the very face of theEnglish, many of them coolly detaching the arrows which, shot at toogreat distance, could not penetrate the thick lining of their buffcoats, and scornfully flinging them back. Several sharp skirmishes tookplace that day, both under the walls and at a little distance from them;but in all the Scots were victorious, and when night fell all was joyand triumph in the castle; shame, confusion, and fury in the Englishcamp.
For several days this continued. If at any time the English, bysuperiority of numbers, were victorious, they were sure to be taken bysurprise by an impetuous sally from the besieged, and beaten back withloss, and so sudden and concealed were the movements of Nigel andSeaton, that though the besiegers lay closer and closer round thecastle, the moment of their setting forth on their daring expeditionscould never be discovered.
"Said I not we should do well, right well, sweet Agnes," exclaimedNigel, one night, on his return from an unusually successful sally, "andare not my words true? Hast thou looked forth on the field to-day, andseen how gloriously it went? Oh, to resign this castle to my brother'shands unscathed, even as he intrusted it; to hold it for him, threatenedas it is!"
He smiled gayly as he spoke, for the consciousness of power was uponhim--power to _will_ and _do_, to win and to retain--that most blessedconsciousness, whether it bless a hero's breast or poet's soul, amaiden's heart or scholar's dream, this checkered world can know.
"I did look forth, my Nigel, for I could not rest; yet ask me not totell thee how the battle went," she added, with a faint flush, as shelooked up in his noble face, beaming as it was with every feeling dearto the heart that loved, "for I traced but the course of one charger,saw but the waving of one plume."
"And thou didst not fear the besiegers' arrows, my beloved? Didst standin the shelter I contrived? Thou must not risk danger, dearest; betternot list the urgings of thy noble spirit than be aught exposed."
"There was no danger, Nigel, at least there seemed none," she said. "Ifelt no fear, for I looked on thee."
The Days of Bruce Vol 1 Page 17
