9
As soon as King Edward heard of Bruce’s return to the mainland, he poured troops into Galloway and Ayrshire under the overall command of the Earl of Pembroke. Two thousand men were mustered at Carlisle to be under his immediate call. Sir Dugald Macdowall, whose forces had destroyed the invaders at Loch Ryan, moved up from Wigtownshire to the southwest border of Carrick. Sir Robert Clifford was stationed at the key fords of the River Cree to the South. Sir John de Botetourt patrolled to the east along the valley of the Nith, and from the north John of Lorne came hurrying down with his Macdougall clansmen to the town of Ayr to reinforce Sir Ingram de Umfraville, one-time Scottish guardian, and Sir John Menteith, the betrayer of Wallace.1
The successful night attack by Bruce against the cantonments at Turnberry must have been magnified by rumour, for he appears to have been credited with a much greater force than he had at his disposal. Henry Percy remained firmly shut up within his fortress until he was relieved by a thousand men from the Carlisle base,2 and the Earl of Pembroke hesitated to tighten the noose of the different forces he had around Bruce’s retreat in the hope that the Scottish King might be provoked into an engagement on ground more favourable to the English than the wild and mountainous country to which he had retired.
But Bruce remained in the high ground, stalking and attacking small parties of the enemy whenever he could, but moving his headquarters from day to day so no one knew where he would strike next. In this he was helped by people of the country who gave him news of the English movements. Among them was a kinsman who brought him trustworthy information but, being taken before Sir Ingram, he agreed to betray Bruce in return for forty pounds’ worth of land to be settled upon himself and his heirs.
He knew it was Bruce’s custom to retire each morning into a covert out of sight of his men for his private purposes, accompanied only by a page. He and his two sons decided to surprise him as he was about his business. However, Bruce had become intimate with one of the women of the country who had warned him of his kinsman’s treachery. When he saw the three approaching, he said to his page, as Barbour relates:
‘What weapon do you have, for I fear that these men wish to kill us?’
‘I have but a bow and arrow.’
‘Then give them to me quickly and stand far back, for if I win you shall have weapons enough, but if I die make haste away.’
As the three men approached, the father with a sword in his hand, one son with a sword and an axe and one with a sword and a spear, Bruce called on them to halt but they still advanced saying that they had come to help him with fresh news of the English. Bruce raised his bow and when they did not stop let fly an arrow that pierced the father through the eye with such force that he fell backward. When the elder son saw his father fall he sprang at Bruce with his axe but Bruce, who wherever he went carried his great sword hanging from his neck, had it ready drawn and cut him down with a single blow. He then turned on the younger son who was running at him with a spear, sliced off its point and dispatched him before he could draw his sword.
The little page, who had been watching the fight from afar, came running joyfully to his master. Bruce said, as he wiped his sword, ‘These were good fighting men until they were ruined by their treachery.’3
As the days passed and Bruce continued to elude capture, fugitives from the vengeance of King Edward began to find their way to the Carrick hills in twos and threes and little groups, and on one memorable day, threading her way through his surrounding enemies, came his one time mistress, Christian of Carrick*, bringing with her fifteen of her mounted tenants to be put at his service and the promise of money and supplies.4
From her he heard for the first time the terrible fate that had overtaken his family and his friends: how his wife and sisters and daughter and their attendant ladies were the prisoners of the English King, some put in cages, some in solitary confinement; how the expedition of his two brothers, Thomas and Alexander, had failed and how they had been hanged, drawn and beheaded; how his youngest brother, Nigel, his brother-in-law, Sir Christopher Seton, the Earl of Atholl and many more had undergone the same barbarous punishment.
When he had arranged an escort to take Christian back to her estate, legend has it that Bruce retired to the cave in which he slept and, throwing himself upon his bed of heather, gave way to such grief at the troubles he had brought upon his family and the hopelessness of his prospects that he considered giving up the struggle for Scotland and sailing to the Holy Land with his faithful companions to fight against the Saracens.
But as he lay in perplexity, his eye was caught by a spider hanging from the ceiling on the slender thread spun from its body. With its agitated movements it was trying to swing the thread from side to side until it could create such impetus that it would reach the wall and there affix the end to form the basis of its web. Six times it swung its pendulum but fell short of its objective: but on the seventh it had achieved such momentum that it reached the wall and there made fast its thread.
And when Bruce saw that a little insect, after so many failures, could persevere to success, he vowed that the King of Scots could do no less. 5
At that time Bruce had some sixty in his company and had posted sentinels around the camp. A little before nightfall one of these came to him and reported a force of the Macdowalls of Galloway, two hundred strong, coming up the valley with bloodhounds nosing the trail. Quietly in the darkness, Bruce moved his men out of the camp across a deep and rushing river nearby and concealed them among the reeds of a swamp. Bidding them lie still he returned with Gilbert de la Haye to the ford by which they had crossed. The ford and the path leading up the steep bank to where they stood were so narrow that two men could not march abreast. By and by Bruce heard the baying of a hound.
He did not know yet whether this was a casual patrol which would pass by on the other side or whether they were on his track. But as the moon came out of the clouds and shone brightly on the scene, he was able to discern clearly a troop of mounted men gathering on the far bank of the river. At this he sent back Gilbert de la Haye to bring up his men while he himself took up his position at the head of the narrow path. The men of Galloway, seeing one solitary figure on the opposite side, plunged into the river but were quickly brought into single file by the narrowness of the ford. As the first horseman came out of the swirling water he was transfixed from above by Bruce’s lance, so Barbour tells us, and fell to the ground with his horse beneath him, which was instantly stabbed by Bruce and lay across the ford. As those following piled up behind the barrier, Bruce descended to the river’s edge and with his long two-handed sword mowed down in sweeping circles those who tried to climb over the carcass. Gradually the Macdowalls began to hold back and when Gilbert de la Haye, with Bruce’s men, appeared over the brow they turned and fled into the woods.6
Heartened by the defeat of the Macdo walls, the little band received fresh encouragement from James Douglas, who soon after rejoined them from his foray into Douglasdale. A few weeks earlier he had asked permission from Bruce to spy out the land about his hereditary castle which had been handed over by King Edward to Sir Robert Clifford. Travelling in disguise with two attendants, he made his way to the house of Thomas Dickson, a leading yeoman in the neighbourhood, who had been a loyal servant of Douglas in his youth and of his father before him. When Douglas had made his presence known, Dickson welcomed him into his house and there concealed him, and each night brought to him secretly his foremost vassals until a group of determined men were joined together for an enterprise against the English. It was agreed that on Palm Sunday, when the garrison of the castle marched to the nearby church carrying their palms, some of Douglas’s supporters should enter the church along with them with arms concealed, and others assemble in disguise outside.
On the appointed day the English, who believed themselves far from danger, suddenly heard the cry ‘Douglas, Douglas’, and were overwhelmed within and without the church and were made prisoners or slain. Moving quickly from the church to the castle, Douglas and his men found the entrance open and no one within except the porter and the cook and tables prepared for dinner and meat simmering in the oven. Douglas closed the gates of the castle and with his followers ate the meat intended for others, and when they were satisfied they packed up as much of the armour and weapons, the silver and clothing as they could carry away. But all the stores of malt and corn were heaped in the cellar, the wine casks were staved and the prisoners were beheaded and cast upon the pile. The well was fouled with dead horses and salt and the whole castle set ablaze.
The gruesome bonfire was said to be Douglas’s memorial to the faithful Thomas Dickson who had been killed at the first onslaught in the church: but throughout the countryside it was known as Douglas’s larder.7
When King Edward heard of the despoiling of Castle Douglas and the discomfiture of the Macdowalls he rose from his sick bed at Lanercost Abbey and sent to the Earl of Pembroke a letter of outraged surprise that he had failed to capture Bruce.8 The earl took counsel with John of Lorne and it was agreed that Pembroke should make a martial parade with his mailed knights along the main route to Cumnock through the mountains where Bruce was lurking, and while Bruce’s attention was taken by this cavalcade John of Lorne with his Highlanders should creep through the woods from the opposite direction and fall upon him unawares.
Bruce indeed was on the high ground when Pembroke and his knights rode by in battle array below, and was considering how to attack them by surprise when he himself was surprised by warning from a messenger that the men of Lorne were close to his rear. Quickly dividing his men into three groups under his brother Edward, James Douglas and himself, he ordered them to retreat in different directions to confuse the enemy and to reassemble later at an appointed place.
But John of Lorne had got possession of a bloodhound which had formerly belonged to Bruce and which he had been told so loved his master, who used to feed it with his own hands, that once it was upon his scent it would turn aside for nothing. When it was brought to the spot from which Bruce and his companions had left, it set its nose to one trail only, so that Lorne, ignoring the other two parties, directed all his men after that commanded by the King. Seeing that his party alone was being followed, Bruce ordered his men to scatter in the hope that the enemy would lose trace of him. But the hound, coming to the point of their dispersal, after casting from side to side once more got on the line of Bruce and the foster brother who was with him. Then John of Lorne chose five of his men to run fast ahead and overtake the fugitives. Bruce saw them coming in the distance and turned to meet them. As his chronicler John Barbour narrates:
Soon the five came in the greatest haste with clamour and menace. Three of them went at the King, and the other two, sword in hand, made at his man. The king met the three and dealt such a blow at the first that he sheared through ear and cheek and neck to the shoulder. The man sank down dizzily and the two, seeing their fellow’s sudden fall, were affrighted and started back a little. With that the King glanced aside and saw the other two making a sturdy attack against his man. He left his own two and leapt at the other two and smote off the head of one of them. Then he went to meet his own assailants who were coming at him right boldly. He met the first so sharply that with the edge of his sword he hewed the arm from the body … So fairly it fell out that the King, though he had a struggle and difficulty, killed four of his foes. Soon after his foster-brother ended the days of the fifth.
Bruce and his foster brother were now very weary and drenched with sweat but dared not rest for behind them they heard the hound. At length they came to a wood through which ran a small stream, and after wading along this a great way they climbed out on the further bank and went deep into the wood before they thought it safe to rest.
When the hound reached the stream it wavered to and fro but could not pick up the scent, so that at last John of Lorne decided that it was useless to proceed and returned with his men to join the Earl of Pembroke.
After Bruce and his foster brother had rested, Barbour relates, they walked on in search of a dwelling from which to obtain food. As they were crossing an upland moor they met with three rough-looking men, one of whom was carrying a dead sheep across his shoulders. They greeted Bruce and he in turn asked where they were bound. They replied that they were seeking Robert Bruce for they wished to serve him. Bruce answered then that if they would accompany him he would guide them there. At this the men looked at each other in such a way that Bruce guessed that they had recognized him and were hoping to obtain the reward offered for his death.
‘Good friends,’ he said, ‘as we are not well acquainted, do you go before us and we will follow behind.’
One of them replied, ‘There is no reason to think any harm of us.’
‘Nor do I,’ said Bruce, ‘but this I desire until we are better known to each other.’
In that order they continued until they came to a deserted farm house. Here the men proposed that they should stop and roast the sheep, to which Bruce agreed on condition that two fires were kindled, one for himself and his foster brother at one end of the house and one for them at the other. When the sheep had been roasted a half was passed to Bruce and his attendant. Bruce had travelled and fasted long, and when he had eaten he felt such an irresistible desire to sleep that he asked his foster brother if he could keep watch. ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘while I can hold out.’
Bruce drowsed for a little with drawn sword beside him, sleeping as Barbour writes, ‘like the bird on the bough’ but from time to time glancing up for he mistrusted the men. Before long, his foster brother, who was as weary as his master, fell into a deep sleep and began to snore loudly. At this signal the three men, drawing their swords, came to kill them. But Bruce, starting awake, leaped to his feet and kicked his foster brother to rouse him. His foster brother rose but so bemused by sleep that he was too late to parry the blow that slew him. Bruce was now alone, one man against three, but his chain mail and his skill in arms were such that he was able to beat off the attack and dispose of his would-be assassins one after the other.
Sad at the loss of his kinsman, he set out alone for the house by Loch Dee where he had agreed to meet his divided forces. When he reached it late at night, he entered and found the housewife sitting by the fire. He told her that he was a traveller passing through the country, to which she replied that all travellers were welcome for the sake of one. He asked who that one might be.
‘Our good King Robert the Bruce,’ she answered, ‘who is the rightful lord of this country.’
Then he said, ‘I am that man.’
‘But where are your men?’ she asked.
‘At the moment I have none.’
‘This must not be,’ she cried, ‘for though I am a widow I have three stout sons each by a different husband, Murdoch, McKie and Mac-Lurg, and they shall become your sworn men.’
She gave him food and shelter and the next morning fetched her three sons to do him obeisance, and he, to try their metal and put them at their ease, set a test for their skill with bow and arrow. Murdoch, the eldest, shot at a pair of perching ravens and pierced them both with the same arrow. McKie shot at a raven circling overhead and brought it down, but MacLurg missed his mark.
Some years afterwards, when he was in a position to do so, Bruce asked the widow how he could repay her kindness. She asked for a small holding by the Cree estuary, but Bruce enlarged her request by granting her land some five miles long by three miles wide which was divided between the three sons, Murdoch of Cumloden, McKie of Larg and MacLurg of Kirroughtrie. On the coat of arms of Murdoch and McKie are displayed the ravens transfixed by an arrow and the place where the ravens were shot is still known as Craigencaillie – the Crag of the Old Woman.9
As Bruce and mother and sons were sitting at their midday meal, there was a trampling of horses round the house. The four men sprang up and seized their arms and the widow called upon her sons to fight for the King to their death; but the voices of Edward Bruce and James Douglas were heard outside and Bruce went out to welcome them.10
Edward and Douglas had brought with them a body of mounted men. In spite of the fatigues and hazards of the previous day, Bruce was impatient to make use of them. He asked where the enemy were encamped and when Douglas told him that as he came over the hill to the rendezvous he saw in a village below some two hundred English a mile or more distant from the main host, he decided on a surprise attack. Guided by James Douglas, Bruce, his brother and the little body of horsemen rode through the night and quietly stationed themselves around the village where the English were quartered, and when dawn broke fell upon them as they slept so that most were cut to pieces and the rest ran naked to the main army. While the alarm was sounding there and the soldiers moving to their posts, Bruce and his men slipped away into the concealing hills.11
The problem of commissariat was now affecting both parties. Pembroke decided to return to his base at Carlisle with his main force but leave spies and patrols to check Bruce’s movements so that when an opportunity arose he could dispatch a powerful raiding party to surprise him. Bruce, whose growing body of outlaws and dispossessed men were living off the land, moved south deep into Galloway where game was plentiful and as yet untouched. Making his headquarters in Glen Trool, he spread out with his men in search of venison for the deer were then in season.12
When Pembroke learned of their hiding place he carried out his plan to come upon them unawares. With a picked body of 1500 knights, he left Carlisle early in April and made a forced march, riding through the night but remaining in cover during the day with such effect that, moving up Creeside, he reached a wood within striking distance of Bruce’s quarters without being observed.13
At the head of Glen Trool, Loch Trool lies like a sapphire brooch beneath the shadow of Mount Merrick. Beyond it, he could see Bruce’s encampment in a rocky valley embraced by bare mountains. Deciding that the ground was so broken by boulders that his knights would be unable to carry out a cavalry attack, he ordered his troops to steal under cover to the wood nearest Bruce’s camp and make ready to capture him by a surprise charge over the intervening stretch of open ground.
In the meantime, he sent forward a poorly dressed woman as a spy to enter the enemy’s camp on the pretext of seeking food, and ascertain their numbers and state of preparation. She found Bruce unarmed and at ease, but when she was brought before him her nerve failed and she told him of the nearby presence of the English.14
Hastily he armed and summoned his 300 men. They had hardly formed up when the English broke out of the nearby wood. Bruce, seizing a bow and arrow from an archer by his side, let loose the shaft at the enemy leader, transfixing him through the throat. His followers, already aghast at finding the Scots armed and waiting for them instead of unaware in their camp, came to an abrupt halt. Bruce, snatching his banner from the standard bearer, cried out, ‘Upon them now!’ and his whole force rushed forward. The English fled back into the wood and continued their flight as fast as they could. Only a few were killed before they reached cover but their expedition was ruined.15
So shameful was this defeat that the English leaders quarrelled among themselves and Pembroke retired in disgust to Carlisle.16
The news that Bruce with 300 ragged men had put to flight 1500 English knights spread from mouth to mouth and transformed the attitudes of many who had hitherto remained quiescent. As the Lanercost Chronicle gloomily records: ‘Despite the fearful vengeance inflicted upon the Scots who adhered to Bruce the number of those willing to strengthen him in his Kingship increased daily.’17 Men of substance began to join his band and with this additional support Bruce felt strong enough to leave the shelter of the hills and descend into the plains of Ayrshire. Bypassing the town and castle of Ayr, which remained in English hands, he made his headquarters at Galston and brought the major part of Kyle and Cunninghame under his control. Sir Philip Mowbray, who tried to intercept him with a force of 1000 men marching from Bothwell, was ambushed by James Douglas and barely escaped with his life, and this success further encouraged volunteers to flock to the standard of the Scottish King.18
Once more Pembroke, urged on as ever by King Edward from his sick bed at Lanercost, gathered his troops together and making the town of Ayr his base advanced early in May against the encampment of Bruce at Galston. Some miles to the east of Galston rises a conical upthrust of rock known as Loudoun Hill which dominates the countryside. To this Bruce withdrew on news of the enemy’s approach. Below it the highway then ran along a broad strip of hard ground about 500 yards in width, flanked on either side by deep morasses impassable to cavalry.
Realizing that the span of the causeway was too great for the 600 men at his disposal to make a stand in depth without danger of being outflanked, Bruce had three wide trenches cut in parallel lines from the morasses to the road to lessen the space he had to defend.
Early on the morning of 10 May, as the sun was rising, Bruce could see from his post on Loudon Hill the English army, 3000 strong, advancing in the distance, ‘their first squadron coming’, as his expressive chronicler John Barbour relates,
well arrayed in close order and at its back, a little way off, the second following it. Their basnets were all burnished bright and flamed in the rays of the sun and their shields, spears and pennons lighted up all the field. Their bright embroidered banners and horses caparisoned in many hues and many-coloured coat armour and hauberks white as flour made them glitter like angels of the kingdom of heaven.19
When Bruce saw them he descended the hill with his men and stationed them across the narrowed front with their long spears forming a barrier of steel.
Pembroke sounded his trumpet for the first squadron to charge but as they neared the Scotsmen at full gallop suddenly they saw the first ditch and, bunching together to avoid it, their line was thrown into confusion and reached the Scottish spears in such disorder that they were shattered at the first impact. More than a hundred were unhorsed or slain and the rest, reeling back, became entangled with the oncoming second squadron. The Scottish ranks, moving steadily forward with their long spears advanced, turned the chaos into rout and Pembroke, with almost all his army still intact, fled incontinently with them to the castle of Both well.20 The Earl of Gloucester, who with a relieving force was attacked by Bruce three days later, put up a sterner struggle, but after severe casualties he retreated to the security of Ayr Castle.21
1 Cal. Doc. Scots, ii, 1913, 1923, 1957
2 Barbour, 79
3 Ibid., 86–90
4 ibid., 77–8
5 Oral tradition
6 Barbour, 92–9
7 ibid., 80–84
8 Cal. Doc. Scots, ii, 1896
9 Mackay, 105
10 Barbour, 104–16
11 ibid., 117–18
12 ibid., 119–22
13 Cal. Doc. Scots, ii, 1923, 1942
14 Barbour, 123
15 ibid., 123–5
16 ibid., 125
17 Lanercost, 182
18 Barbour, 126–9
19 ibid., 131
20 ibid., 129–35
21 Flores Historiarum, ii, 595
* cf note VI