Chapter LXXXVII.
Scotland--Dumfries.
About the hour of twilight on the tenth day after Bruce had cast hislast look on the capital of England--that scene of his long captivityunder the spell of delusion, that theater of his family's disgrace, ofhis own eternal regrets--he crossed the little stream which marked theoft-contended barrier-land of the two kingdoms. He there checked theheadlong speed of his horse, and having alighted to give it breath,walked by its side, musing on the different feelings with which he nowentered Scotland, from the buoyant emotions with which he had sprung onits shore at the beginning of the year. These thoughts, as full ofsorrow as of hope, had not occupied him long when he espied a man, inthe Red Cummin's colors, speeding toward the south. He guessed him tobe some new messenger of the regent to Edward, and throwing himselfbefore the horse, caught it by the bridle, then coolly commanded itsrider to deliver to him the dispatches which he carried to the King ofEngland. The man refused, and, striking his spurs into his beast,tried to trample down his assailant. But Bruce was not to be put fromhis aim. The manner of the Scot convinced him that his suspicions wereright, and putting forth his nervous arm, with one action he pulled themessenger from his saddle and laid him prostrate on the ground. Againhe demanded the papers. "I am your prince," cried he, "and by theallegiance you owe to Robert Bruce, I command you to deliver them intomy hands. Life shall be your reward, immediate death the punishment ofyour obstinacy."
In such an extremity the man did not hesitate, and taking from hisbosom a sealed packet, immediately resigned it. Bruce ordered him tostand before him till he had read the contents. Trembling with terrorof this formidable freebooter (for he placed no belief in thedeclaration that he was the Prince of Scotland), the man obeyed, andBruce, breaking his seals, found, as he expected a long epistle fromthe regent, urging the sanguinary aim of his communications. Hereiterated his arguments for the expediency of speedily putting RobertBruce to death; he represented the danger that there was in delay, lesta man so royally descended and so popular as he had become (since itwas now publicly understood that he had already fought his country'sbattles under the name of Sir Thomas de Longueville) should find meansof replacing himself at the head of so many zealots in his favor.These circumstances so propitious to ambition, and now adding personrevenge to his former boldness and policy, would at this juncture(should he arrive in Scotland) turn its growing commotions to the mostdecisive uses against the English power. The regent concluded withsaying, "that the Lords Loch-awe, Douglas, and Ruthven were come downfrom the Highlands with a multitudinous army, to drive out the Southrongarrisons, and to repossess themselves of the fortresses of Stirlingand Edinburgh. That Lord Bothwell had returned from France with thereal Sir Thomas de Longueville, a knight of great valiancy. And thatSir Roger Kirkpatrick, after having massacred half the Englishcastellans in the border counties, was now lying at Torthorald ready tocommence his murderous reprisals through the coasts of Galloway. Forhimself, Cummin told the kind he had secretly removed to the Franciscanmonastery at Dumfries, where he should most anxiously await hismajesty's pardon and commands."
Bruce closed the packet. To prevent his discovery being betrayed erehe was ready to act, he laid his sword upon the shoulder of the man:"You are my prisoner," said he; "but fear not. I only mean to hold youin safety till your master has answered for his treason." Themessenger thought, whoever this imperious stranger might be, that hesaw a truth in his eyes which ratified this assurance; and withoutopposition, he walked before him till they stopped at Torthorald.
Night had closed in when Bruce sounded his bugle under the walls.Kirkpatrick answered from the embrasure over the barbican-gate with ademand of who desired admittance.
"'Tis the avenger of Sir William Wallace," was the reply. The gatesflew open at the words; and Kirkpatrick, standing in the archway amid ablaze of torches, received his guest with a brave welcome.
Bruce spoke no more till he entered the banqueting-hall. Three otherknights were seated by the table. He turned to Kirkpatrick. "Myvaliant friend," said he, "order your servants to take charge of yonScot," pointing to the messenger of Cummin; "and till I command hisrelease, let him be treated with the lenity which shall ever belong toa prisoner of Robert Bruce!" As he spoke he threw up his visor; andKirkpatrick, who had heard that the supposed De Longueville was hisrightful prince, now recognized the well-known features of the braveforeigner in the stranger before him. Not doubting the verity of hiswords, he bent his knee with the homage due to his king; and in theaction was immediately followed by Sir Eustace Maxwell, Sir JamesLindsay, and Adam Fleming, who were the other knights present.
"I come," cried the prince, "in the spirit of my heart's sovereign andfriend, the now immortal Wallace, to live or to die with you in thedefense of my country's liberties. With such assistance as yours, hisinvincible coadjutors, and with the blessing of Heaven on our arms, Ihope to redeem Scotland from the disgrace which her late horriblesubmission to the tyrant has fastened on her name. The transgressionsof my house have been grievous; but that last deadly sin of my peoplecalled for an expiation awful indeed! And it came in the moment ofguilt! in their crime they receive punishment. They broke from theirside the arms which alone had rescued them from their enemies! I nowcome to save them from themselves. Their having permitted thesacrifice of the rights of my family was the first injury committed onthe constitution, and it prepared a path for the ensuing tyranny whichseized upon the kingdom. But, by resuming these rights, which is nowmy firm purpose, I open to you a way to recover our hereditaryindependence. The direful scene just acted on the Tower Hill ofLondon, that horrible climax of Scottish treason! must convince everyreasonable mind that all the late misfortunes of our country haveproceeded from the base jealousies of its nobles. There, then, letthem die; and may the grave of Wallace be the tomb of dissension!Seeing where their own true interests point, surely the bravechieftains of this land will rally round their lawful prince, who heredeclares he knows no medium between death and victory!"
The spirit with which this address was pronounced, the magnanimity itconveyed, assisted by the graces of his youth, and noble deportment,struck the hearts of its auditors, and aroused in double vigor theprinciples of resentment to which the first tidings of their heroiccountryman's fate had given birth. Kirkpatrick needed no otherstimulus than his almost idolatrous memory of Wallace, and he listenedwith an answering ardor to Bruce's exhortation. The prince nextdisclosed to his now zealously-pledged friends the particulars of theRed Cummin's treachery. "He now lies at Dumfries!" cried Kirkpatrick;"thither, then, let us go, and confront him with his treason. Whenfalsehood is to be confounded, it is best to grapple with the sorceressin the moment of detection; should we hesitate, she may elude ourgrasp."
Dumfries was only a few miles distant, and they might reach its conventbefore the first matins. Fatigue was not felt by Bruce when in pursuitof a great object; and, after a slight refreshment, he and his fourdetermined friends took horse.
As they had anticipated, the midnight bell was ringing for prayers whenthe troop stopped at the Franciscan gate. Lindsay, having been in theHoly Land during the late public struggles, alleged business with theabbot, and desired to see him. On the father's bidding the partywelcome, Bruce stepped forward and addressed him: "Reverend sir, I comefrom London. I have an affair to settle with Lord Badenoch; and I knowby his letters to King Edward, that he is secretly lodged in thisconvent. I therefore command to be conducted to him." This peremptoryrequisition, with the superior air of the person who made it, did notleave the abbot room to doubt that he was some illustrious messengerfrom the King of England, and with hardly a demur, he left the otherknights in the cloisters of the church while he led the noble Southron(as he thought) to his kinsman.
The treacherous regent had just retired from the refectory to his ownapartment, as the abbot conducted the stranger into his presence.Badenoch started frowningly from his seat at such unusual intrusion.Bruce's visor was clo
sed; and the ecclesiastic, perceiving the regent'sdispleasure, dispersed it by announcing the visitant as a messengerfrom King Edward. "Then leave us together," returned he, unwillingthat even this, his convenient kinsman, should know the extent of histreason against his country. The abbot had hardly closed the door,when Bruce, whose indignant soul burned to utter his full contempt ofthe wretch before him, hastily advanced to speak; but the cautiousBadenoch, fearful that the father might yet be within hearing, put hisfinger to his lips. Bruce paused, and listened gloomily to thedeparting steps of the abbot. When they were no more heard, with onehand raising his visor, and the other grasping the scroll of detection:"Thus, basest of the base race of Cummin!" exclaimed he, "you may for amoment elude the universal shame which awaits your crimes."
At sight of the fate, on hearing the words of Bruce, the unmanly cowarduttered a cry of terror, and rushed toward the door.
"You pass not here," continued the prince, "till I have laid open allyour guilt; till I have laid open all your guilt; till I havepronounced you the doom due to a treacherous friend and traitoroussubject."
"Infatuated Bruce!" exclaimed Badenoch, assuming an air of insultedfriendship, not that he found escape impossible; "what false tongue haspersuaded you to arraign one who has ever been but too faithfully theadherent of your desperate fortunes? I have labored in secret, day andnight, in your service, and thus am I repaid."
Bruce smiled disdainfully at this poor attempt to deceive him; and, ashe stood with his back against the door, he opened the murderouspacket, and read from it all its contents. Cummin turned pale and redat each sentence; and at last, Bruce closing it:
"Now, then, faithful adherent of Robert Bruce!" cried he, "say what theman deserves who, in these blood-red lines, petitions the death of hislawful prince! Oh! thou arch-regicide! Doth not my very look killthee?"
Badenoch, his complexion turning of a livid hue, and his voicefaltering, attempted to deny the letter having been his handwriting, orthat he had any concern in the former embassy to Edward; then, findingthat these falsehoods only irritated Bruce to higher indignation, andfearful of being immediately sacrificed to his just resentment, hethrew himself on his knees, and confessing each transaction, imploredhis life in pity to the natural desire of self-preservation which,alone, had precipitated him to so ungrateful a proceeding.
"Oh!" added he, "even this danger I have incurred upon your account!For your ultimate advantage did I bring on my head the perils which nowfill me with dismay! Love alone for you made me hasten the executionof William Wallace, that insidious friend, who would have crept fromyour bosom into your throne. And then, fear of your mistaking themotives of so good a service, betrayed me to throw myself into the armsof Edward!"
"Bury thyself and crimes, thou foulest traitor, deep in the depths ofhell!" cried the prince, starting away with a tremendous gesture! "Outof my sight forever, that I may not pollute these hands with thymonstrous blood!" Till this moment Bruce was ignorant that Badenochhad been the instigator in the murder of Wallace; and forgetting allhis own person wrongs in this more mighty injury, with tumultuoushorror, he turned from the coward to avoid the self-blame of stabbingan unarmed wretch at his feet. But at that moment Cummin, who believedhis doom only suspended, rose from his knee, and drawing his dirk fromunder his plaid, struck it into the back of the prince. Bruce turnedon him with the quickness of thought. "Hah!" exclaimed he, seizing himby the throat, "then take thy fate! This accursed deed hath removedthe only barrier between vengeance and thee--thus remember WilliamWallace!"
As the prince spoke he plunged his dagger into the breast of thetraitor. Cummin uttered a fearful cry, and rolled down at his feetmurmuring imprecations.
Bruce fled from the spot. It was the first time his arm had drawnblood except in the field of battle, and he felt as if the base tidehad contaminated his hand. In the cloisters he was encountered by hisfriends. A few words informed them of what had happened.
"Is he dead?" inquired Kirkpatrick.
"I can hardly doubt it," answered Bruce.
"Such a matter," returned the veteran, "must not be left to conjecture;I will secure him!"** And running forward, he found the wounded regentcrawling from the door of the cell. Throwing himself upon him withoutnoise, he stabbed him to the heart.
**In memory of this circumstance, the crest of the family ofKirkpatrick is a hand grasping a dagger distilling gouts of blood; themotto, "I mak sikkar."
Before the catastrophe was known in the convent, Bruce and his friendshad left it some time, and were far on their road to Lochmaben. Theyarrived before sunrise, and once more an inmate of his paternal castle,he thence dispatched Fleming to Lord Ruthven, with a transcript of hisdesigns.
In the same packed he inclosed a letter for the Lady Isabella. Itcontained this brave resolution--that, in his present return toScotland, he did not consider himself merely as Robert Bruce, come toreclaim the throne of his ancestors, but as the executor of the lastdying will of Sir William Wallace, which was--that Bruce should confirmthe independence of Scotland, or fall, as Wallace had done, invincibleat his post. "Till that freedom is accomplished," continued thevirtuous prince, "I will never shake the steadfast purpose of my soulby even once glance at thy life-endearing beauties. I am Wallace'ssoldier, Isabella, as he was Heaven's! and, while my captain looks onme from above, shall I not approve myself worthy his example? I wooedyou as a knight, I will win you as a king; and on the day when nohostile Southron breathes in Scotland I will demand my sweetest reward,my beloved bride, of her noble uncle. You shall come to me as theangel of peace, and in one hour we will receive the nuptial benedictionand the vows of our people!"
The purport of the prince's letter to Ruthven was well adapted to thestrain of the foregoing. He then announced his intention of proceedingimmediately to the plain of Stirling; and there, putting himself at thehead of his loyal Scots, declare himself their lawful sovereign, andproclaim to the world that he acknowledged no legal superior but theGreat Being whose vicegerent he was. From that center of his kingdomhe would make excursions to its furthest extremities, and, with God'swill, either drive his enemies from the country, or perish with thesword in his hand, as became the descendant of William the Lion, asbecame the friend of William Wallace!
Ruthven lay encamped on the Carse of Gowrie when this letter wasdelivered to him. He read it aloud to his assembled chieftains, and,with waving bonnets, they hailed the approach of their valiant prince.Bothwell alone, whose soul-devoted attachment to Wallace could not besuperseded by any other affection allowed his bonnet to remain inactivein his hand; but with the ferver of true loyalty he thanked God forthus bringing the sovereign whom his friend loved to bind in one thecontending interests of his country--to wrest from the hand of thatfriend's assassin the scepter for which he had dyed them so deep inblood.