The Days of Bruce Vol 1

by Grace Aguilar

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  It was on a cool evening, near the end of September, 1311, that a troop,consisting of about thirty horse, and as many on foot, were leisurelytraversing the mountain passes between the counties of Dumfries andLanark. Their arms were well burnished; their buff coats and half-armorin good trim; their banner waved proudly from its staff, as bright andgay as if it had not even neared a scene of strife; and there was an airof hilarity and gallantry about them that argued well for success, ifabout to commence an expedition, or if returning, told with equalemphasis they had been successful. That the latter was the case wasspeedily evident, from the gay converse passing between them; theirallusions to some late gallant achievement of their patriot sovereign;their joyous comparisons between good King Robert and his weak opponent,Edward II. of England, marvelling how so wavering and indolent a soncould have sprung from so brave and determined a sire; for, Scotsmen asthey were, they were now FREE, and could thus afford to allowthe "hammer" of their country some knightly qualities, despite the sternand cruel tyranny which to them had ever marked his conduct. They spokein laughing scorn of the second Edward's efforts to lay his father'syoke anew upon their necks; they said a just heaven had interfered andurged him to waste the decisive moment of action in indolence and folly,in the flatteries of his favorite, to the utter exclusion of those wiserlords, whose counsels, if followed on the instant, might have shakeneven the wise and patriot Bruce. Yet they were so devoted to theirsovereign, they idolized him alike as a warrior and a man too deeply, toallow that to the weak and vacillating conduct of Edward they owed thepreservation of their country. It was easy to perceive by the springystep, the flashing eye, the ringing, tone with which that magic name,the Bruce, was spoken, how deeply it was written on the heart; the joyit was to recall his deeds, and feel it was through him that they werefree! Their converse easily betrayed them to be one of thosewell-ordered though straggling parties into which King Robert's invadingarmies generally dispersed at his command, when returning to their ownfastnesses, after a successful expedition to the English border.

  The laugh and jest resounded, as we have said, amongst both officers andmen; but their leader, who was riding about a stone's throw ahead, gaveno evidence of sharing their mirth. He was clad from head to foot inchain armor, of a hue so dark as to be mistaken for black, and from hiswearing a surcoat of the same color, unenlivened by any device, gave himaltogether a somewhat sombre appearance, although it could not detractin the smallest degree from the peculiar gracefulness and easy dignityof his form, which was remarkable both on horseback and on foot. He wasevidently very tall, and by his firm seat in the saddle, had been earlyaccustomed to equestrian exercises; but his limbs were slight almost todelicacy, and though completely ensheathed in mail, there was anappearance of extreme youth about him, that perhaps rendered the absenceof all gayety the more striking. Yet on the battle-field he gave noevidence of inexperience as a warrior, no sign that he was merely ascholar in the art of war; there only did men believe he must be olderthan he seemed; there only his wonted depression gave place to anenergy, a fire, second to none amongst the Scottish patriots, not evento the Bruce himself; then only was the naturally melancholy music ofhis voice lost in accents of thrilling power, of imperative command, andthe oldest warriors followed him as if under the influence of somespell. But of his appearance on the field we must elsewhere speak. Henow led his men through the mountain defiles mechanically, as if buriedin meditation, and that meditation not of the most pleasing nature. Hisvizor was closed, but short clustering curls, of a raven blackness,escaped beneath the helmet, and almost concealed the white linen andfinely embroidered collar which lay over his gorget, and was secured infront by a ruby clasp; a thick plume of black feathers floated from hishelmet, rivalling in color the mane of his gallant charger, which pawedthe ground, and held his head aloft as if proud of the charge he bore. Ashield was slung round the warrior's neck, and its device and mottoseemed in melancholy accordance with the rest of his attire. On a fieldargent lay the branch of a tree proper, blasted and jagged, with thewords "_Ni nom ni paren, je suis seul_," rudely engraved in NormanFrench beneath; his helmet bore no crest, nor did his war-cry on thefield, "Amiot for the Bruce and freedom," offer any clue to the curiousas to his history, for that there was some history attached to him allchose to believe, though the age was too full of excitement to allowmuch of wonderment or curiosity to be expended upon him. His goldenspurs gave sufficient evidence that he was a knight; his prowess on thefield proclaimed whoever had given him that honor had not bestowed it onthe undeserving. His deeds of daring, unequalled even in that age,obtained him favor in the eyes of every soldier; and if there were somein the court and camp of Bruce who were not quite satisfied, and lovednot the mystery which surrounded him, it mattered not, Sir Amiot of theBranch, or the Lonely Chevalier, as he was generally called, went on hisway unquestioned.

  "Said not Sir Edward Bruce he would meet us hereabouts at set of sun?"were the first words spoken by the knight, as, on issuing from themountains, they found themselves on a broad plain to the east of Lanark,bearing sad tokens of a devastating war, in the ruined and blackenedhuts which were the only vestiges of human habitations near. The answerwas in the affirmative; and the knight, after glancing in the directionof the sun, which wanted about an hour to its setting, commanded a halt,and desired that, while waiting the arrival of their comrades, theyshould take their evening meal.

  On the instant the joyous sounds of dismounting, leading horses topicquet, unclasping helmets, throwing aside the more easily displacedportions of their armor, shields, and spears, took the place of thesteady tramp and well-ordered march. Flinging themselves in variousattitudes on the greensward, provender was speedily laid before them,and rare wines and other choice liquors, fruits of their late campaign,passed gayly round. An esquire had, at the knight's sign, assisted himto remove his helmet, shield, and gauntlets; but though this removaldisplayed a beautifully formed head, thickly covered with dark hair, hisfeatures were still concealed by a species of black mask, the mouth,chin, and eyes being alone visible, and therefore his identity waseffectually hidden. The mouth and chin were both small and delicatelyformed; the slight appearance of beard and moustache seeming to denotehis age as some one-and-twenty years. His eyes, glancing through theopening in the mask, were large and very dark, often flashing brightly,when his outward bearing was so calm and quiet as to afford littleevidence of emotion. Some there were, indeed, who believed the eye thetruer index of the man than aught else about him, and to fancy there wasfar more in that sad and lonely knight than was revealed.

  It was evident, however, that to the men now with him his remaining soclosely masked was no subject of surprise, that they regarded it as anordinary thing, which in consequence had lost its strangeness. They wereeager and respectful in their manner towards him, offering to raise hima seat of turf at some little distance from their noisy comrades; butacknowledging their attention with kindness and courtesy, he refused it,and rousing himself with some difficulty from his desponding thoughts,threw himself on the sward beside his men, and joined in their mirth andjest.

  "Hast thou naught to tell to while away this tedious hour, goodMurdoch?" he asked, after a while, addressing a gray-headed veteran.

  "Aye, aye, a tale, a tale; thou hast seen more of the Bruce than all ofus together," repeated many eager voices, "and knowest yet more of hisdeeds than we do; a tale an thou wilt, but of no other hero than theBruce."

  "The Bruce!" echoed the veteran; "see ye not his deeds yourselves, needye more of them?" but there was a sly twinkle in his eye that betrayedhis love to speak was as great as his comrades to hear him. "Have ye notheard, aye, and many of you seen his adventures and escapes in Carrick,hunted even as he was by bloodhounds; his guarding that mountain pass,one man against sixty, aye, absolutely alone against the Galwegian hostof men and bloodhounds; Glen Fruin, Loudun Hill, Aberdeen; the harryingof Buchan; charging the treacherous foe, when they had to bear him fromhis litter to h
is horse, aye, and support him there; springing up fromhis couch of pain, and suffering, and depression, agonizing to witness,to hurl vengeance on the fell traitors; aye, and he did it, and broughtback health to his own heart and frame; and Forfar, Lorn,Dunstaffnage--know ye not all these things? Nay, have ye not seen,shared in them all--what would ye more?"

  "The harrying of Buchan, tell us of that," loudly exclaimed many voices;while some others shouted, "the landing of the Bruce--tell us of hislanding, and the spirit fire at Turnberry Head; the strange woman thataddressed him."

  "Now which am I to tell, good my masters?" laughingly answered the oldman, when the tumult in a degree subsided. "A part of one, and part ofthe other, and leave ye to work out the rest yourselves; truly, apleasant occupation. Say, shall it be thus? yet stay, what says SirAmiot?"

  "As you will, my friends," answered the knight, cheerily; "but decidequickly, or we shall hear neither. I am for the tale of Buchan," therewas a peculiarly thrilling emphasis in his tone as he pronounced theword, "for I was not in Scotland at the time, and have heard butdisjointed rumors of the expedition."

  The veteran looked round on his eager comrades with an air ofsatisfaction, then clearing his voice, and drawing more to the centre ofthe group; "Your worship knows," he began, addressing Sir Amiot, who,stretched at full length on the sward, had fixed his eyes upon him,though their eagle glance was partly shaded by his hand, "that our goodKing Robert the Bruce, determined on the reduction of the north of hiskingdom, advanced thereto in the spring of 1308, accompanied by hisbrother, Lord Edward, that right noble gentleman the Earl of Lennox, SirGilbert Hay, Sir Robert Boyd, and others, with a goodly show of men andarms, for his successes at Glen Fruin and Loudun Hill had brought him avast accession of loyal subjects. And they were needed, your worship, ofa truth, for the traitorous Comyns had almost entire possession of thecastles and forts of the north, and thence were wont to pour down theirravaging hordes upon the true Scotsmen, and menace the king, till hescarcely knew which side to turn to first. Your worship coming, I haveheard, from the low country, can scarcely know all the haunts andlurking-places for treason the highlands of our country present; howhordes of traitors may be trained and armed in these remote districts,without the smallest suspicion being attached to them till it iswell-nigh too late, and the mischief is done. Well, to drive out theseblack villains, to free his kingdom, not alone from the yoke of anEnglish Edward, but a Scottish Comyn, good King Robert was resolved--andeven as he resolved he did. Inverness, the citadel of treason anddisloyalty, fell before him; her defences, and walls, and turrets, andtowers, all dismantled and levelled, so as to prevent all furtherharborage of treason; her garrison marched out, the ringleaders sentinto secure quarters, and all who hastened to offer homage and swearfidelity, received with a courtesy and majesty which I dare to say didmore for the cause of our true king than a Comyn could ever do againstit. Other castles followed the fate of Inverness, till at length thenorth, even as the south, acknowledged the Bruce, not alone as theirking, but as their deliverer and savior.

  "It was while rejoicing over these glorious successes, the lords andknights about the person of their sovereign began to note with greatalarm that his strength seemed waning, his brow often knit as withinward pain, his eye would grow dim, and his limbs fail him, without amoment's warning; and that extreme depression would steal over his manlyspirit even in the very moment of success. They watched in alarm, butsilently; and when they saw the renewed earnestness and activity withwhich, on hearing of the approach of Comyn of Buchan, Sir John deMowbray, and that worst of traitors, his own nephew, Sir David ofBrechin, he rallied his forces, advanced to meet them, and compelledthem to retreat confusedly to Aberdeen, they hoped they had beendeceived, and all was well.

  "But the fell disease gained ground; at first he could not guide hischarger's reins, and then he could not mount at all; his voice failed,his sight passed; they were compelled to lay him in a litter, and bearhim in the midst of them, and they felt as if the void left by theirsovereign's absence from their head was filled with the dim shadow ofdeath. Nobly and gallantly did Lord Edward endeavor to remedy this fatalevil; Lennox, Hay, even the two Frasers, who had so lately joined theking, seemed as if paralyzed by this new grief, and hung over theBruce's litter as if their strength waned with his. Sternly, nay, atsuch a moment it seemed almost harshly, Lord Edward rebuked thisweakness, and, conducting them to Slenath, formed some strongentrenchments, of which the Bruce's pavilion was the centre, intendingthere to wait his brother's recovery. Ah, my masters, if ye were notwith good King Robert then, ye have escaped the bitterest trial. Ye knownot what it was to behold him--the savior of his country, the darling ofhis people, the noblest knight and bravest warrior who ever girded on asword--lie there, so pale, so faint, with scarce a voice or passing sighto say he breathed. The hand which grasped the weal of Scotland, the armthat held her shield, lay nerveless as the dead; the brain which thoughtso well and wisely for his fettered land, lay powerless and still; thethrilling voice was hushed, the flashing eye was closed. The foes wereclose around him, and true friends in tears and woe beside his couch,were all alike unknown. Ah! then was the time for warrior's tears, formen of iron frame and rugged mood to soften into woman's woe, and weep.Men term Lord Edward Bruce so harsh and stern, one whom naught of grieffor others or himself can move; they saw him not as I have. It was mineto watch my sovereign, when others sought their rest; and I have seenthat rugged chieftain stand beside his brother's couch alone, unmarked,and struggle with his spirit till his brow hath knit, his lip becomeconvulsed, and then as if 'twere vain, all vain, sink on his knee, clasphis sovereign's hand, and bow his head and weep. 'Tis passed and overnow, kind heaven be praised! yet I cannot recall that scene, unbind thefolds of memory, unmoved."

  The old man passed his rough hand across his eyes, and for a briefmoment paused; his comrades, themselves affected, sought not to disturbhim, and quickly he resumed.

  "Days passed, and still King Robert gave no sign of amendment, except,indeed, there were intervals when his eyes wandered to the countenancesof his leaders, as if he knew them, and would fain have addressed themas his wont. Then it was our men were annoyed by an incessant dischargefrom Buchan's archers, which, though they could do perhaps no greatevil, yet wounded many of our men, and roused Lord Edward's spirit toresent the insult. His determination to leave the entrenchments andretreat to Strathbogie, appeared at first an act of such unparalleleddaring as to startle all his brother leaders, and they hesitated; butthere never was any long resisting Sir Edward's plans; he bears a spellno spirit with a spark of gallantry about him can resist. The retreatwas in consequence determined on, to the great glee of our men, who weretired of inaction, and imagined they should feel their sovereign'ssufferings less if engaged hand to hand with, the foe, in his service,than watching him as they had lately done, and dreading yet greaterevils.

  "Ye have heard of this daring retreat, my friends; it was in the mouthof every Scotsman, aye, and of Englishman too, for King Robert himselfnever accomplished a deed of greater skill. The king's litter was placedin the centre of a square, which presented on either side such animpenetrable fence of spears and shields, that though Buchan and DeMowbray mustered more than double our number, they never ventured anattack, and a retreat, apparently threatening total destruction, fromits varied dangers, was accomplished without the loss of a single man.At Strathbogie we halted but a short space, for finding no obstructionin our path, we hastened southward, in the direction of Inverury; therewe pitched the tent for the king, and, taking advantage of a naturalfortification, dispersed our men around it, still in a compact square.Soon after this had been accomplished, news was received that our foeswere concentrating their numerous forces at Old Meldrum, scarcely twomiles from us, and consequently we must hold ourselves in constantreadiness to receive their attack.

  "Well, the news that the enemy was so near us might not perhaps havebeen particularly pleasing, had they not been more than balanced by theconviction--far more
precious than a large reinforcement, for in itselfit was a host--the king was recovering. Yes, scarcely as we dared hope,much less believe it, the disease, which had fairly baffled all theleech's art, which had hung over our idolized monarch so long, at lengthshowed symptoms of giving way, and there was as great rejoicing in thecamp as if neither danger nor misfortune could assail us more; a newspirit sparkled in every eye, as if the awakening lustre in the Bruce'sglance, the still faint, yet thrilling accents of a voice we had fearedwas hushed forever, had lighted on every heart, and kindled anew theirslumbering fire. One day, Lord Edward, the Earl of Lennox, and a gallantparty, were absent scouring the country about half a mile round ourentrenchments, and in consequence, one side of our square was more thanusually open, but we did not think it signified, for there wore notidings of the enemy; well, this day the king had called me to him, andbade me relate the particulars of the retreat, which I was proud enoughto do, my masters, and which of you would not be, speaking as I did withour gallant sovereign as friend with friend?"

  "Aye, and does he not make us all feel this?" burst simultaneously frommany voices; "does he not speak, and treat us all as if we were hisfriends, and not his subjects only? Thine was a proud task, goodMurdoch, but which of us has good King Robert not addressed with kindlywords and proffered hand?"

  "Right! right!" joyously responded the old man; "still I say that hourwas one of the proudest in my life, and an eventful one too for Scotlandere it closed. King Robert heard me with flashing eye and kindlingcheek, and his voice, as he burst forth in high praise and love for hisdaring brother, sounded almost as strong and thrilling as was its wontin health; just then a struggle was heard without the tent, a scuffle,as of a skirmish, confused voices, clashing of weapons, and war-cries.Up started the king, with eagle glance and eager tone. 'My arms,' hecried, 'bring me my arms! Ha hear ye that?' and sure enough, 'St. Davidfor De Brechin, and down with the Bruce!' resounded so close, that itseemed as if but the curtain separated the traitor from his kinsman andhis king. Never saw I the Bruce so fearfully aroused, the rage of thelion was upon him. 'Hear ye that?' he repeated, as, despite myremonstrances, and these of the officers who rushed into the tent, hesprang from the couch, and, with the rapidity of light, assumed hislong-neglected armor. 'The traitorous villain! would he beard me to myteeth? By the heaven above us, he shall rue this insolence! Bring me mycharger. Beaten off, say ye? I doubt it not, my gallant friends; but itis now the Bruce's turn, his kindred traitors are not far off, and wewould try their mettle now. Nay, restrain me not, these folk will work acure for me--there, I am a man again!' and as he stood upright, sheathedin his glittering mail, his drawn sword in his gauntleted hand, a wildshout of irrepressible joy burst from us all, and, caught up by thesoldiers without the tent, echoed and re-echoed through the camp. Thesudden appearance of the Bruce's charger, caparisoned for battle,standing before his master's tent, the drums rolling for the muster, thelightning speed with which Sir Edward Bruce, Lennox, and Hay, afterdispersing De Brechin's troop, as dust on the plain, galloped to theroyal pavilion, themselves equally at a loss to understand the bustlethere, all prepared the men-at-arms for what was to come. Eagerly didthe gallant knights remonstrate with their sovereign, conjure him tofollow the battle in his litter, rather than attempt to mount hischarger; they besought him to think what his life, his safety was tothem, and not so rashly risk it. Lord Edward did entreat him to reservehis strength till there was more need; the field was then clear, thefoes had not appeared; but all in vain their eloquence, the kingcombated it all. 'We will go seek them, brother,' cheerily answered theking; 'we will go tell them insult to the Bruce passes not unanswered.On, on, gallant knights, our men wax impatient.' Hastening from thetent, he stood one moment in the sight of all his men: removing hishelmet, he smiled a gladsome greeting. Oh, what a shout rung forth fromthose iron ranks! There was that noble face, pale, attenuated indeed,but beaming on them in all its wonted animation, confidence, and love;there was that majestic form towering again in its princely dignity,seeming the nobler from being so long unseen. Again and again that shoutarose, till the wild birds rose screaming over our heads, in untuned,yet exciting chorus. Nor did the fact that the king, strengthened as hewas by his own glorious soul, had in reality not bodily force enough tomount his horse without support, take from the enthusiasm of his men,nay, it was heightened and excited to the wildest pitch. 'For Scotlandand freedom!' shouted the king, as for one moment he rose in hisstirrups and waved his bright blade above his head. 'For Bruce andScotland!' swelled the answering shout. We formed, we gathered incompact array around our leaders, loudly clashed our swords against ourshields; we marched a brief while slowly and majestically along theplain; we neared the foe, who, with its multitude in terrible array,awaited our coming; we saw, we hurled defiance in a shout which rent thevery air. Quicker and yet quicker we advanced; on, on--we scoured thedusty plain, we pressed, we flew, we rushed upon the foe; the Bruce wasat our head, and with him victory. We burst through their ranks; wecompelled them, at the sword's point, to turn and fight even to thedeath; we followed them foot to foot, and hand to hand, disputing everyinch of ground; they sought to retreat, to fly--but no! Five miles ofScottish ground, five good broad miles, was that battle-field; the enemylay dead in heaps upon the field, the remainder fled."

  "And the king!" exclaimed the knight of the mask, half springing up inthe excitement the old man's tale had aroused. "How bore he this day'swondrous deed--was not his strength exhausted anew?"

  "Aye, what of the king?" repeated many of the soldiers, who had heldtheir very breath while the veteran spoke, and clenched their swords, asif they were joining in the strife he so energetically described.

  "The king, my masters," replied Murdoch, "why, if it could be, he lookedyet more the mighty warrior at the close than at the commencement of thework. We had seen him the first in the charge, in the pursuit; we hadmarked his white plume waving above all others, where the strife waxedhottest; and when we gathered round him, when the fight was done, hewas seated on the ground in truth, and there was the dew of extremefatigue on his brow--he had flung aside his helmet--and his cheek washotly flushed, and his voice, as he thanked us for our gallant conduct,and bade us return thanks to heaven for this great victory, was somewhatquivering; but for all that, my masters, he looked still the warrior andthe king, and his voice grew firmer and louder as he bade us have nofears for him. He dismissed us with our hearts as full of joy and lovefor him as of triumph on our humbled foes."

  "No doubt," responded many voices; "but Buchan, Mowbray, DeBrechin--what came of them--were they left on the field?"

  "They fled, loving their lives better than their honor; they fled, likecowards as they were. The two first slackened not their speed till theystood on English ground. De Brechin, ye know, held out Angus as long ashe could, and was finally made captive."

  "Aye, and treated with far greater lenity than the villain deserved. Hewill never be a Randolph."

  "A Randolph! Not a footboy in Randolph's train but is more Randolph thanhe. But thou sayest Buchan slackened not rein till he reached Englishground; he lingered long enough for yet blacker treachery, if rumorspeaks aright. Was it not said the king's life was attempted by hisorders, and by one of the Comyn's own followers?"

  "Ha!" escaped Sir Amiot's lips. "Say they this?" but he evidently hadspoken involuntarily, for the momentary agitation which had accompaniedthe words was instantly and forcibly suppressed.

  "Aye, your worship, and it is true," replied the veteran "It was twonights after the battle. All the camp was at rest; I was occupied asusual, by my honored watch in my sovereign's tent. The king was sleepingsoundly, and a strange drowsiness appeared creeping over me too,confusing all my thoughts. At first I imagined the wind was agitating acertain corner of the tent, and my eyes, half asleep and half wakeful,became fascinated upon it; presently, what seemed a bale of carpets,only doubled up in an extraordinary small space, appeared within thedrapery. It moved; my senses were instantly aroused. Slowly
andcautiously the bale grew taller, then the unfolding carpet fell, and ashort, well-knit, muscular form appeared. He was clothed in thosepadded jerkins and hose, plaited with steel, which are usual to those ofhis rank; the steel, however, this night was covered with thin, blackstuff, evidently to assist concealment. He looked cautiously around him.I had creeped noiselessly, and on all fours, within the shadow of theking's couch, where I could observe the villain's movements myselfunseen. I saw a gleam of triumph twinkle in his eye, so sure he seemedof his intended victim. He advanced; his dagger flashed above the Bruce.With one bound, one shout, I sprang on the murderous wretch, wrenchedthe dagger from his grasp, and dashed him to the earth. He struggled,but in vain; the king started from that deep slumber, one moment gazedaround him bewildered, the next was on his feet, and by my side. Thesoldiers rushed into the tent, and confusion for the moment waxed loudand warm; but the king quelled it with a word. The villain was raised,pinioned, brought before the Bruce, who sternly demanded what was hisintent, and who was his employer. Awhile the miscreant paused, but then,as if spell-bound by the flashing orb upon him, confessed the whole,aye, and more; that his master, the Earl of Buchan, had sworn a deep anddeadly oath to relax not in his hot pursuit till the life-blood of theBruce had avenged the death of the Red Comyn, and that, though he hadescaped now, he must fall at length, for the whole race of Comyn hadjoined hands upon their chieftain's oath. The brow of the king grewdark, terrible wrath beamed from his eyes, and it seemed for the momentas if he would deliver up the murderous villain into the hands thatyearned to tear him piecemeal. There was a struggle, brief yet terrible,then he spoke, and calmly, yet with a bitter stinging scorn.

  "'And this is Buchan's oath,' he said. 'Ha! doth he not bravely, myfriends, to fly the battle-field, to shun us there, that hireling handsmay do a deed he dares not? For this poor fool, what shall we do withhim?'

  "'Death, death--torture and death! what else befits the sacrilegioustraitor?' burst from many voices, pressing forward to seize and bear himfrom the tent; but the king signed them to forbear, and oh, what a smiletook the place of his previous scorn!

  "'And I say neither torture nor death, my friends,' he tried. 'What, arewe sunk so low, as to revenge this insult on a mere tool, theinstrument of a villainous master? No, no! let him go free, and tell hislord how little the Bruce heeds him; that guarded as he is by a freepeople's love, were the race of Comyn as powerful and numerous asEngland's self, their oath would avail them nothing. Let the poor foolgo free!'

  "A deep wild murmur ran through the now crowded tent, and so mingledwere the tones of applause and execration, we knew not which the mostprevailed.

  "'And shall there be no vengeance for this dastard deed?' at length thedeep, full voice of Lord Edward Bruce arose, distinct above the rest.'Shall the Bruce sit tamely down to await the working of the villainoath, and bid its tools go free, filling the whole land withwell-trained murderers? Shall Buchan pass scathless, to weave yetdarker, more atrocious schemes?'

  "'Brother, no,' frankly rejoined the king. 'We will make free to go andvisit our friends in Buchan, and there, an thou wilt, thou shalt paythem in coin for their kindly intents and deeds towards us; but for thispoor fool, again I say, let him go free. Misery and death, God wot, weare compelled to for our country's sake, let us spare where but our ownperson is endangered.'

  "And they let him free, my masters, unwise as it seemed to us; nonecould gainsay our sovereign's words. Sullen to the last, the onlysymptom of gratitude he vouchsafed was to mutter forth, in, answer tothe Bruce's warning words to hie him to his comrades in Buchan, and bidthem, an they feared fire and devastation, to fly without delay, 'Aye,only thus mayest thou hope to exterminate the traitors; pity none, sparenone. The whole district of Buchan is peopled by the Comyn, bound bythis oath of blood,' and thus he departed."

  "And spoke he truth?" demanded Sir Amiot, hoarsely, and with anagitation that, had others more suspicious been with him, must have beenremarked, although forcibly and painfully suppressed; "spoke he truth?Methought the district of Buchan had only within the last centurybelonged to the Comyn, and that the descendants of the CountessMargaret's vassals still kept apart, loving not the intermixture ofanother clan. Said they not it was on this account the Countess ofBuchan had exercised such influence, and herself beaded a gallant troopat the first rising of the Bruce? an the villain spoke truth, whencecame this change?"

  "Why, for that matter, your worship, it is easy enough explained,"answered Murdoch, "and, trust me, King Robert set inquiries enoughafloat ere he commenced his scheme of retaliation. Had there been one ofthe Lady Isabella's own followers there, one who, in her name, claimedhis protection, he would have given it; not a hair of their heads wouldhave been injured; but there were none of these, your worship. The fewof the original clan which had not joined him were scattered all overthe country, mingling with other loyal clans; their own master hadhunted them away, when he came down to his own districts, just beforethe capture of his wife and son. He filled the Tower of Buchan with hisown creatures, scattered the Comyns all over the land, with expresscommands to attack, hunt, or resist all of the name of Bruce to the lastebb of their existence. He left amongst them officers and knights astraitorous, and spirits well-nigh as evil as his own, and they obeyedhim to the letter, for amongst the most inveterate, the mosttreacherous, and most dishonorable persecutors of the Bruce stood firstand foremost the Comyns of Buchan. Ah! the land was changed from thetime when the noble countess held sway there, and so they felt to theircost.

  "It was a grand yet fearful sight, those low hanging woods and glens allin one flame; the spring had been particularly dry and windy, and thebranches caught almost with a spark, and crackled and sparkled, andblazed, and roared, till for miles round we could see and hear the workof devastation. Aye, the coward earl little knew what was passing in histerritories, while he congratulated himself on his safe flight intoEngland. It was a just vengeance, a deserved though terribleretaliation, and the king felt it as such, my masters. He had borne withthe villains as long as he could, and would have borne with them still,had he not truly felt nothing would quench their enmity, and inconsequence secure Scotland's peace and safety, but their utterextermination, and all the time he regretted it, I know, for there was aterrible look of sternness and determination about him while the worklasted; he never relaxed into a smile, he never uttered a jovial word,and we followed him, our own wild spirits awed into unwonted silence.There was not a vestige of natural or human life in the district--allwas one mass of black, discolored ashes, utter ruin and appallingdevastation. Not a tower of Buchan remains."

  "All--sayest thou all?" said Sir Amiot, suddenly, yet slowly, and withdifficulty. "Left not the Bruce one to bear his standard, and thus markhis power?"

  "Has not your worship remarked that such is never the Bruce's policy?Three years ago, he had not force enough to fortify the castles he tookfrom the English, and leaving them standing did but offer safe harborsfor the foe, so it was ever his custom to dismantle, as utterly toprevent their reestablishment; and if he did this with the castles ofhis own friends, who all, as the Douglas saith, 'love better to hear thelark sing than the mouse squeak,' it was not likely he would spareBuchan's. But there was one castle, I remember, cost him a bitterstruggle to demolish. It was the central fortress of the district,distinguished, I believe, by the name of 'the Tower of Buchan,' and hadbeen the residence of that right noble lady, the Countess Isabella andher children. Nay, from what I overheard his grace say to Lord Edward,it had formerly given him shelter and right noble hospitality, and adearer, more precious remembrance still to his noble heart--it had beenfor many months the happy home of his brother, Sir Nigel, and we knowwhat magic power all associated with _him_ has upon the king; and had itnot been for the expostulations of Lord Edward, his rough yet earnestentreaty, methinks that fortress had been standing yet. That sternness,terrible to behold, for it ever tells of some mighty inward passionsconquered, again gathered on our sovereign's brow, but he turned his
charger's head, and left to Lord Edward the destruction of the fortress,and he made quick work of it; you will scarce find two stones togetherof its walls."

  "He counselled right," echoed many voices, the eagerness with which theyhad listened, and now spoke, effectually turning their attention fromtheir mysterious leader, who at old Murdoch's last words had withdifficulty prevented the utterance of a deep groan, and then, as ifstartled at his own emotion, sprung up from his reclining posture, andjoined his voice to those of his men. "He counselled, and did rightly,"they repeated; "it would have been an ill deed to spare a traitor's denfor such softening thoughts. Could we but free the Countess Isabella,she would not want a home in Buchan--nay, the further from her cruelhusband's territories the better and for her children--the one, poorinnocent, is cared for, and the other--"

  "Aye, my masters, and trust me, that other was in our sovereign's heartas forcibly as the memories he spoke. That which we know now concerninghim was then undreamed of; it was only faintly rumored that Lord Douglashad been deceived, and Alan of Buchan had not fallen by a father's hand,or at least by his orders; that he was in life, in close confinement; myold ears did catch something of this import from the king, as he spokewith his brother."

  "What import?" asked Sir Amiot, hoarsely.

  "Only, your worship, that, for the sake of the young heir of Buchan, hewished that such total devastation could have been spared; if he werereally in life, as rumor said, it was hard to act as if he wereforgotten by his friends."

  "And what was Sir Edward's reply?"

  "First, that he doubted the rumor altogether; secondly, that if he didreturn to the king, his loss might be more than made up; and thirdly,that it was more than probable that, young as he was, if he really didlive, the arts of his father would prevail, and he would purchase hisfreedom by homage and fidelity to England."

  "Ha! said he so--and the king?"

  "Did not then think with him, nay, declared he would stake his righthand that the boy, young as he was, had too much of his mother's noblespirit for such a deed. It was well the stake was not accepted, for, bySt. Andrew, as the tale now goes, King Robert would have lost."

  "As the tale now goes, thou unbelieving skeptic," replied one of hiscomrades, laughing; "has not the gallant been seen, recognized--is henot known as one of King Edward's minions, and lords it bravely? Buthark! there are chargers pricking over the plain. Hurrah! Sir Edward andLord James," and on came a large body of troopers and infantry even ashe spoke.

  Up started Sir Amiot's men in eager readiness to greet and join; theirarmor and weapons they had laid aside were resumed, and ere theircomrades reached them all were in readiness. Sir Amiot, attended by hisesquires and a page, galloped forward, and the two knights, perceivinghis advance, spurred on before their men, and hasty and cordialgreetings were exchanged. We should perhaps note that Sir Amiot's mannerslightly differed in his salutation of the two knights. To Lord EdwardBruce he was eager, frank, cordial, as that knight himself; to theother, whom one glance proclaimed as the renowned James Lord Douglas,there was an appearance of pride or reserve, and it seemed an effort tospeak with him at all. Douglas perhaps did not perceive this, or wasaccustomed to it, for it seemed to affect him little; and Lord Edward'sbluff address prevented all manifestation of difference between hiscolleagues, even if there existed any.

  "Ready to mount and ride; why that's well," he cried. "We are beyond ourtime, but it is little reck, we need but spur the faster, which our menseem all inclined to do. What news? why, none since we parted, save thathis grace has resolved on the siege of Perth without further delay."

  "Nay, but that is news, so please you," replied Sir Amiot. "When Iparted from his grace, there was no talk of it."

  "There was talk of it, but no certainty; for our royal brother kept hisown counsel, and spoke not of this much-desired event till his way layclear before him. There have been some turbulent spirits in thecamp--your humble servant, this black lord, and Randolph amongstthem--who in truth conspired to let his grace know no peace by night orday till this object was attained; but our prudent monarch gave uslittle heed till his wiser brain arranged the matters we but burned toexecute."

  "And what, think you, fixed this resolve?"

  "Simply that for a time we are clear of English thieves and Normanrogues, and can march northward, and sit down before Perth without fearof being called southward again. Edward will have enow on his hands tokeep his own frontiers from invasion; 'twill be some time ere he see theextent of our vengeance, and meanwhile our drift is gained."

  "Aye, it were a sin and crying shame to let Perth remain longer inEnglish hands," rejoined Douglas; "strongly garrisoned it may be; butwhat matter?"

  "What matter! why, 'tis great matter," replied Sir Edward, joyously."What glory were it to sit down before a place and take it at firstcharge? No, give me good fighting, tough assault, and brave defence.Think you I would have so urged the king, did I not scent a gloriousstruggle before the walls? Strongly garrisoned! I would not give onelink of this gold chain for it, were it not. But a truce to this idleparley; we must make some miles ere nightfall. Sir Knight of the Branch,do your men need further rest? if not, give the word, and let them fallin with their comrades, and on."

  "Whither?" demanded Sir Amiot, as he gave the required orders. "Wheremeet we the king?"

  "In the Glen of Auchterader, south of the Erne. Lady Campbell andIsoline await us there, with the troops left as their guard atDumbarton. So you perceive our friend Lord Douglas here hath doublecause to use the spur; times like these afford little leisure forwooing, and such love-stricken gallants as himself must e'en make themost of them."

  "And trust me for doing so," laughingly rejoined Douglas. "Scoff' at meas you will, Edward, your time will come."

  "Not it," answered the warrior; "glory is my mistress. I love better toclasp my true steel than the softest and fairest hand in Christendom; tocaress my noble steed and twine my hand thus in his flowing mane, andfeel that he bears me gallantly and proudly wherever my spirit lists,than to press sweet kisses on a rosy lip, imprisoned by a woman'ssmile."

  "Nay, shame on thee!" replied Douglas, still jestingly. "Thou a trueknight, and speak thus; were there not other work to do, I would e'enrun a tilt with thee, to compel thee to forswear thy foul treasonagainst the fair."

  "Better spend thy leisure in wooing Isoline; trust me, she will not bewon ere wooed. How now, Sir Knight of the Branch, has the fiendmelancholy taken possession of thee again? give her a thrust with thylance, good friend, and unseat her. Come, soul of fire as thou art inbattle, why dost thou mope in ashes in peace? Thou speakest neither fornor against these matters of love; wilt woo or scorn the little god?"

  "Perchance both, perchance neither," replied the knight, and his voicesounded sadly, though he evidently sought to speak in jest. He hadfallen back from the side of Douglas during the previous conversation,but the flashing eye denoted that it had passed not unremarked. He nowrode up to the side of Lord Edward, keeping a good spear's length fromLord James, and their converse turning on martial subjects, became moregeneral. Their march being performed without any incident of note, wewill, instead of following them, take a brief retrospective glance onthose historical events which had so completely and gloriously turnedthe fate of Scotland and her patriots, in those five years which thethread of our narrative compels us to leave a blank.

  END OF VOL. I.

  * * * * *

  GRACE AGUILAR'S WORKS.

  HOME INFLUENCE.MOTHER'S RECOMPENSE.VALE OF CEDARS.WOMAN'S FRIENDSHIP.DAYS OF BRUCE.WOMEN OF ISRAEL.HOME SCENES AND HEART STUDIES.

  _1 vol., 12mo, Illustrated, price $1, with a Memoir of the Author,_

  HOME INFLUENCE,

  A TALE FOR MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS.

  By GRACE AGUILAR.

  "Grace Aguilar wrote and spoke as one inspired; she condensed andspiritualized, and all her thoughts and feelings were steeped in theessence of celestial love and truth. To those who really kne
w GraceAguilar, all eulogium falls short of her deserts, and she has left ablank in her particular walk of literature, which we never expect to seefilled up."--_Pilgrimages to English Shrines, by Mrs. Hall._

  "A clever and interesting tale, corresponding well to its name,illustrating the silent, constant influence of a wise and affectionateparent over characters the most diverse."--_Christian Lady's Magazine._

  "This interesting volume unquestionably contains many valuable hints ondomestic education, much powerful writing, and a _moral_ of vastimportance."--_Englishwoman's Magazine._

  "It is very pleasant, after reading a book, to speak of it in terms ofhigh commendation. The tale before us is an admirable one, and isexecuted with taste and ability. The language is beautiful andappropriate; the analysis of character is skilful and varied. The workought to be in the hands of all who are interested in the propertraining of the youthful mind."--_Palladium._

  "In reviewing this work, we hardly know what words in the Englishlanguage are strong enough to express the admiration we have felt in itsperusal."--_Bucks Chronicle._

  "The object and end of the writings of Grace Aguilar were to improve theheart, and to lead her readers to the consideration of higher motivesand objects than this world can ever afford."--_Bell's WeeklyMessenger._

  "'Home Influence' will not be forgotten by any who have perusedit."--_Critic._

  "A well-known and valuable tale."--_Gentleman's Magazine._

  "A work which, possesses an extraordinary amount of influence to elevatethe mind and educate the heart, by showing that rectitude and virtueconduce no less to material prosperity, and worldly comfort andhappiness, than to the satisfaction of the conscience, the approval ofthe good, and the hope and certainty of bliss hereafter."--_Herts CountyPress._

  * * * * *

  THE SEQUEL TO HOME INFLUENCE.

  THE MOTHER'S RECOMPENSE.

  A SEQUEL TO

  _"Home Influence, a Tale for Mothers and Daughters."_

  By GRACE AGUILAR.

  1 VOL., 12MO. CLOTH. $1. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.

  "Grace Aguilar belonged to the school of which Maria Edgeworth was thefoundress. The design of the book is carried out forcibly andconstantly, 'The Home Influence' exercised in earlier years being shownin its active germination."--_Atlas._

  "The writings of Grace Aguilar have a charm inseparable from productionsin which feeling is combined with intellect; they go directly to theheart. 'Home Influence,' the deservedly popular story to which this is asequel, admirably teaches the lesson implied in its name. In the presenttale we have the same freshness, earnestness, and zeal--the same spiritof devotion, and love of virtue--the same enthusiasm and sincerereligion which characterized that earlier work. We behold the mother nowblessed in the love of good and affectionate offspring, who, parentsthemselves, are, after her example, training _their_ children in the wayof rectitude and piety."--_Morning Chronicle._

  "This beautiful story was completed when the authoress was little abovethe age of nineteen, yet it has the sober sense of middle age. There isno age nor sex that will not profit by its perusal, and it will affordas much pleasure as profit to the reader."--_Critic._

  "The same kindly spirit, the same warm charity and fervor of devotionwhich breathes in every line of that admirable book, 'Home Influence,'will be found adorning and inspiring 'The Mother's Recompense.'"--_MorningAdvertiser._

  "The good which, she (Grace Aguilar) has effected is acknowledged on allhands, and it cannot be doubted but that the appearance of this volumewill increase the usefulness of one who may yet be said to be stillspeaking to the heart and to the affections of human nature."--_Bell'sMessenger._

  "It will be found an interesting supplement, not only to the book towhich it specially relates, but to all the writer's otherworks."--_Gentleman's Magazine._

  "'The Mother's Recompense' forms a fitting close to its predecessor,'Home Influence.' The results of maternal care are fully developed, itsrich rewards are set forth, and its lesson and its moral are powerfullyenforced."--_Morning Post._

  "We heartily commend this volume; a better or more useful present to ayouthful friend or a young wife could not well be selected."--_HertsCounty Press._

  "We look upon 'The Days of Bruce' as an elegantly-written andinteresting romance, and place it by the side of Miss Porter's 'ScottishChiefs.'"--_Gentleman's Magazine._

  "A very pleasing and successful attempt to combine ideal delineation ofcharacter with the records of history. Very beautiful and very true arethe portraits of the female mind and heart which Grace Aguilar knew howto draw. This is the chief charm of all her writings, and in 'The Daysof Bruce' the reader will have the pleasure of viewing this skillfulportraiture in the characters of Isoline and Agnes, and Isabella ofBuchan."--_Literary Gazette._

  "What a fertile mind was that of Grace Aguilar! What an earlydevelopment of reflection, of feeling, of taste, of power of invention,or true and earnest eloquence! 'The Days of Bruce' is a composition ofher early youth, but full of beauty. Grace Aguilar knew the female heartbetter than any writer of our day, and in every fiction from her pen wetrace the same masterly analysis and development of the motives andfeelings of woman's nature. 'The Days of Bruce' possesses also theattractions of an extremely interesting story, that absorbs theattention, and never suffers it to flag till the last page is closed,and then the reader will lay down the volume with regret."--_Critic._

  * * * * *

  HOME SCENES AND HEART STUDIES,

  By GRACE AGUILAR.

  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.

  One volume, 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00.

  The Perez Family. The Stone-Cutter's Boy of Possagno. Amete andYafeh. The Fugitive. The Edict; A Tale of 1492. The Escape; A Tale of1755. Red Rose Villa. Gonzalvo's Daughter. The Authoress.

  Helon.Lucy.The Spirit's Entreaty.Idalie.Lady Gresham's Fete.The Group of Sculpture.The Spirit of Night.Recollections of a Rambler.Cast thy Bread upon the Waters.The Triumph of Love.

  * * * * *

  THE WOMEN OF ISRAEL;

  Or, Characters and Sketches from the Holy Scriptures, illustrativeof the past History, present Duties, and future Destiny of HebrewFemales, as based on the Word of God.

  By GRACE AGUILAR.

  Two volumes, 12mo. Price $2.00.

  PRINCIPAL CONTENTS.

  FIRST PERIOD--WIVES OF THE PATRIARCHS.Eve.--Sarah.--Rebekah.--Leah and Rachel.

  SECOND PERIOD--THE EXODUS AND THE LAW.Egyptian Captivity, and Jochebed.--The Exodus--Mothers of Israel.--Lawsfor Wives in Israel.--Laws for Widows and Daughters InIsrael.--Maid-servants in Israel, and other Laws.

  THIRD PERIOD--BETWEEN THIS DELIVERY OF THE LAW AND THE MONARCHY.Miriam.--Tabernacle Workers--Caleb's Daughter.--Deborah.--Wife ofManoah.--Naomi.--Hannah.

  FOURTH PERIOD--THE MONARCHY.Michal.--Abigail.--Wise Women of Tekoah.--Woman ofAbel.--Rispah.--Prophet's Widow.--The Shunamite.--Little IsraelitishMaid.--Huldah.

  FIFTH PERIOD--BABYLONIAN CAPTIVITY.The Captivity.--Review of Book of Ezra.--Suggestions as to the identityof the Ahasuerus of Scripture.--Esther.--Review of Events narrated in Ezraand Nehemiah.

  SIXTH PERIOD--CONTINUANCE OF THE SECOND TEMPLE.Review of Jewish History, from the Return from Babylon to the Appeal ofHycanus and Aristobulus to Pompey.--Jewish History from the Appeal toPompey to the Death of Herod.--Jewish History from the Death of Herod tothe War.--The Martyr Mother.--Alexandra.--Mariamne.--Salome.--Helena.--Berenice.

  SEVENTH PERIOD--WOMEN OF ISRAEL IN THE PRESENT AS INFLUENCED BY THE PAST.The War and Dispersion.--Thoughts on the Talmud.--Talmudic Ordinancesand Tales.--Effects of Dispersion and Persecution.--General Remarks.

  "A work that is sufficient of itself to create and crown areputation."--_Pilgrimages to English Shrines, by Mrs. S. C. Hall._

  * * * * *

  WOMAN'S FRIENDSHIP.

  A STORY OF DOMESTIC LIFE.

  By GRACE AGUILAR.

 
; _With Illustrations. One volume, 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00._

  "To show us how divine a thing A woman may be made."--Wordsworth.

  "This story illustrates, with feeling and power, that beneficialinfluence which women exercise, in their own quiet way, over charactersand events in our every-day life."--_Britannia._

  "The book is one of more than ordinary interest in various ways, andpresents an admirable conception of the depths and sincerity of femalefriendship, as exhibited in England by English women."--_WeeklyChronicle._

  "We began to read the volume late in the evening; and, although itconsists of about 400 pages, our eyes could not close in sleep until wehad read the whole. This excellent book should find a place on everydrawing-room table--nay, in every library in the kingdom."--_BucksChronicle._

  "We congratulate Miss Aguilar on the spirit, motive, and composition ofthis story. Her aims are eminently moral, and her cause comesrecommended by the most beautiful associations. These, connected withthe skill here evinced in their development, insure the success of herlabors."--_Illustrated News._

  "As a writer of remarkable grace and delicacy, she devoted herself tothe inculcation of the virtues, more especially those which are thepeculiar charm of women."--_Critic._

  "It is a book for all classes of readers; and we have no hesitation insaying, that it only requires to be generally known to becomeexceedingly popular. In our estimation it has far more attractionsthan Miss Burney's celebrated, but overestimated, novel of'Cecilia.'"--_Herts County Press._

  "This very interesting and agreeable tale has remained longer withoutnotice on our part than we could have desired; but we would now endeavorto make amends for the delay, by assuring our readers that it is a mostably-written publication, full of the nicest points of information andutility that could have been by any possibility constructed; and, as aproof of its value, it may suffice to say, that it has been taken fromour table again and again by several individuals, from therecommendation of those who had already perused it, and be prevented ourgiving an earlier attention to its manifold claims for the favorablecriticism. It is peculiarly adapted for the young, and wherever it goeswill be received with gratification, and command very extensiveapprobation."--_Bell's Weekly Messenger._

  "This is a handsome volume: just such a book as we would expect to findamong the volumes composing a lady's library. Its interior correspondswith its exterior; it is a most fascinating tale, full of noble and justsentiments."--_Palladium._

  * * * * *

  THE VALE OF CEDARS

  or,

  THE MARTYR.

  A STORY OF SPAIN IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

  By GRACE AGUILAR.

  _With Illustrations. 1 vol., 12mo. Cloth, $1.00._

  "The authoress of this most fascinating volume has selected for her fieldone of the most remarkable eras in modern history--the reigns of Ferdinandand Isabella. The tale turns on the extraordinary extent to which concealedJudaism had gained footing at that period in Spain. It is marked by muchpower of description, and by a woman's delicacy of touch, and it will addto its writer's well-earned reputation."--_Eclectic Review._

  "The scene of this interesting tale is laid during the reign ofFerdinand and Isabella. The Vale of Cedars is the retreat of a Jewishfamily, compelled by persecution to perform their religions rites withthe utmost secrecy. On the singular position of this fated race in themost Catholic land of Europe, the interest of the tale mainlydepends; whilst a few glimpses of the horrors of the terribleInquisition are afforded the reader, and heighten the interestof the narrative."--_Sharpe's Magazine._

  "Any thing which proceeds from the pen of the authoress of this volumeis sure to command attention and appreciation. There is so much ofdelicacy and refinement about her style, and each a faithful delineationof nature in all she attempts, that she has taken her place amongst thehighest class of modern writers of fiction. We consider this to be oneof Miss Aguilar's best efforts."--_Bell's Weekly Messenger._

  "We heartily commend the work to our readers as one exhibiting, notmerely talent, but genius, and a degree of earnestness, fidelity toNature, and artistic grace, rarely found."--_Herts County Press._

  "The 'Vale of Cedars' is indeed one of the most touching and interestingstories that have ever issued from the press. There is a life-likereality about it which is not often observed in works of this nature;while we read it we felt as if we were witnesses of the various scenesit depicts."--_Bucks Chronicle._

  "It is a tale of deep and pure devotion, very touchinglynarrated."--_Atlas._

  "The authoress has already received our commendation; her present workis calculated to sustain, her reputation."--_Illustrated News._

  "It is indeed a historical romance of a high class. Seeing how steadyand yet rapid was her improvement--how rich the promise of hergenius--it is impossible to close this notice of her last and best work,without lamenting that the authoress was so untimely snatched from aworld she appeared destined, as certainly she was singularly qualified,to adorn and to improve."--_Critic._

  New York: D. APPLETON & CO.