Chapter XXIII: Introduction (2)

King Robert the Bruce summoned all his nobles and barons to join him, when he heard of the great preparations which the King of England was making. They were not so numerous as the English by many thousand men. In fact, his whole army did not very much exceed thirty thousand, and they were much worse armed than the wealthy Englishmen; but then, Robert, who was at their head, was one of the most expert generals of the time; and the officers he had under him were his brother Edward, his nephew Randolph, his faithful follower the Douglas, and other brave and experienced leaders, who commanded the same men that had been accustomed to fight and gain victories under every disadvantage of situation and numbers.

The King, on his part, studied how he might supply, by address and stratagem, what he wanted in numbers and strength. He knew the superiority of the English, both in their heavy-armed cavalry, which were much better mounted and armed than that of the Scots, and in their archers, who were better trained than any others in the world. Both these advantages he resolved to provide against. With this purpose, he led his army down into a plain near Stirling, called the Park, near which, and beneath it, the English army must needs pass through a boggy country, broken with water-courses, while the Scots occupied hard dry ground. He then caused all the ground upon the front of his line of battle, where cavalry were likely to act, to be dug full of holes, about as deep as a man’s knee. They were filled with light brushwood, and the turf was laid on the top, so that it appeared a plain field, while in reality it was all full of these pits as a honeycomb is of holes. He also, it is said, caused steel spikes, called calthrops, to be scattered up and down in the plain, where the English cavalry were most likely to advance, trusting in that manner to lame and destroy their horses.

When the Scottish army was drawn up, the line stretched north and south. On the south, it was terminated by the banks of the brook, called Bannockburn, which are so rocky, that no troops could attack them there. On the left, the Scottish line extended near to the town of Stirling. Bruce reviewed his troops very carefully; all the useless servants, drivers of carts, and such like, of whom there were very many, he ordered to go behind a height, afterwards, in memory of the event, called the Gillies’ hill, that is, the Servants’ hill. He then spoke to the soldiers, and expressed his determination to gain the victory, or to lose his life on the field of battle. He desired that all those who did not propose to fight to the last should leave the field before the battle began, and that none should remain except those who were determined to take the issue of victory or death, as God should send it.

When the main body of his army was thus placed in order, the King posted Randolph, with a body of horse, near to the Church of St. Ninian’s, commanding him to use the utmost diligence to prevent any succors from being thrown into Stirling Castle. He then dispatched James of Douglas, and Sir Robert Keith, the Mareschal of the Scottish army, in order that they might survey as nearly as they could, the English force, which was now approaching from Falkirk. They returned with information, that the approach of that vast host was one of the most beautiful and terrible sights which could be seen—that the whole country seemed covered with men-at-arms on horse and foot—that the number of standards, banners, and pennons made so gallant a show, that the bravest and most numerous host in Christendom might be alarmed to see King Edward moving against them.

It was upon the twenty-third of June (1314) the King of Scotland heard the news, that the English army were approaching Stirling. He drew out his army, therefore, in the order which he had before resolved on. After a short time, Bruce, who was looking out anxiously for the enemy, saw a body of English cavalry trying to get into Stirling from the eastward. This was the Lord Clifford, who, with a chosen body of eight hundred horse, had been detached to relieve the castle.

“See, Randolph,” said the King to his nephew, “there is a rose fallen from your chaplet.” By this he meant that Randolph had lost some honor, by suffering the enemy to pass where he had been stationed to hinder them. Randolph made no reply but rushed against Clifford with little more than half his number. The Scots were on foot. The English turned to charge them with their lances, and Randolph drew up his men in close order to receive the onset. He seemed to be in so much danger, that Douglas asked leave of the King to go and assist him. The King refused him permission.

“Let Randolph,” he said, “redeem his own fault; I cannot break the order of battle for his sake.” Still the danger appeared greater, and the English horse seemed entirely to encompass the small handful of Scottish infantry. “So please you,” said Douglas to the king, “my heart will not suffer me to stand idle and see Randolph perish—I must go to his assistance.” He rode off accordingly; but long before they had reached the place of combat, they saw the English horses galloping off, many with empty saddles.

“Halt!” said Douglas to his men, “Randolph has gained the day; since we were not soon enough to help him in the battle, do not let us lessen his glory by approaching the field.” Now, that was nobly done; especially as Douglas and Randolph were always contending which should rise highest in the good opinion of the King of the nation.

The van of the English army now came in sight, and a number of their bravest knights drew near to see what the Scots were doing. They saw King Robert dressed in his armor and distinguished by a gold crown, which he wore over his helmet. He was not mounted on his great war-horse, because he did not expect to fight that evening. But he rode on a little pony up and down the ranks of his army, putting his men in order, and carried in his hand a sort of battle-ax made of steel.

The next morning, being the twenty-fourth of June, at break of day, the battle began in terrible earnest. The English as they advanced saw the Scots getting into line. The Abbot of Inchaffray walked through their ranks bare-footed, and exhorted them to fight for their freedom. They kneeled down as he passed, and prayed to Heaven for victory. King Edward, who saw this, called out, “They kneel down—they are asking forgiveness.” “Yes,” said a celebrated English baron, called Ingelram de Umphraville, “but they ask it from God, not from us—these men will conquer, or die upon the field.”

The English King ordered his men to begin the battle. The archers then bent their bows, and began to shoot so closely together, that the arrows fell like flakes of snow on a Christmas day. They killed many of the Scots, and might, as at Falkirk, and other places, have decided the victory; but Bruce, as I told you before, was prepared for them. He had in readiness a body of men-at-arms, well mounted, who rode at full gallop among the archers, and as they had no weapons save their bows and arrows, which they could not use when they were attacked hand to hand, they were cut down in great numbers by the Scottish horsemen, and thrown into total confusion.

The fine English cavalry then advanced to support their archers, and to attack the Scottish line. But coming over the ground which was dug full of pits, the horses fell into these holes, and the riders lay tumbling about, without any means of defense, and unable to rise, from the weight of their armor. The Englishmen began to fall into general disorder; and the Scottish King, bringing up more of his forces, attacked and pressed them still more closely.

On a sudden, while the battle was obstinately maintained on both sides, an event happened which decided the victory. The servants and attendants on the Scottish camp had, as I told you, been sent behind the army to a place afterwards called the Gillies’ hill. But when they saw that their masters were likely to gain the day, they rushed from their place of concealment with such weapons as they could get, that they might have their share in the victory and in the spoil. The English, seeing them come suddenly over the hill, mistook this disorderly rabble for a new army coming up to sustain the Scots, and, losing all heart, began to shift every man for himself. Edward himself left the field as fast as he could ride. A valiant knight, Sir Giles de Argentine, much renowned in the wars of Palestine, attended the King till he got him out of the press of the combat. But he would retreat no farther. “It is not my custom,” he said, “to fly.” With that he took leave of the King, set spurs to his horse, and calling out his war-cry of Argentine! Argentine! he rushed into the thickest of the Scottish ranks, and was killed.

Edward first fled to Stirling Castle, and entreated admittance; but Sir Philip Mowbray, the governor, reminded the fugitive sovereign that he was obliged to surrender the castle next day, so Edward was fain to fly through the Torwood, closely pursued by Douglas with a body of cavalry.

Douglas and Abernethy continued the chase, not giving King Edward time to alight from horseback even for an instant, and followed him as far as Dunbar, where the English had still a friend, in the governor, Patrick, Earl of March. The Earl received Edward in his forlorn condition, and furnished him with a fishing skiff, or small ship, in which he escaped to England, having entirely lost his fine army, and a great number of his bravest nobles.

The English never before or afterwards, whether in France or Scotland, lost so dreadful a battle as that of Bannockburn, nor did the Scots ever gain one of the same importance. Many of the best and bravest of the English nobility and gentry, as I have said, lay dead on the field; a great many more were made prisoners; and the whole of King Edward’s immense army was dispersed or destroyed.

The English, after this great defeat, were no longer in a condition to support their pretensions to be masters of Scotland, or to continue, as they had done for nearly twenty years, to send armies into that country to overcome it. On the contrary, they became for a time scarce able to defend their own frontiers against King Robert and his soldiers.

Thus did Robert Bruce arise from the condition of an exile, hunted with bloodhounds like a stag or beast of prey, to the rank of an independent sovereign, universally acknowledged to be one of the wisest and bravest kings who then lived. The nation of Scotland was also raised once more from the situation of a distressed and conquered province to that of a free and independent state, governed by its own laws, and subject to its own princes; and although the country was, after the Bruce’s death, often subjected to great loss and distress, both by the hostility of the English, and by the unhappy civil wars among the Scots themselves, yet they never afterwards lost the freedom for which Wallace had laid down his life, and which King Robert had recovered, not less by his wisdom than by his weapons. And therefore most just it is, that while the country of Scotland retains any recollection of its history, the memory of those brave warriors and faithful patriots should be remembered with honor and gratitude.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

=Discussion.= 1. Describe the two armies, the English and the
Scottish. 2. What stratagem did the King use? 3. Draw a diagram
of the Scottish line showing the relative positions of the Park,
Bannockburn, Stirling, Gillies’ hill, the church of St. Ninian’s, and
Falkirk. 4. What did the King mean when he said to Randolph, “There
is a rose fallen from your chaplet”? 5. Read passages that show two
fine sides of Douglas’s nature. 6. Describe the Scottish king as
he rode up and down the ranks of his army. 7. Describe the battle.
8. What decided the victory? 9. Read the passages that seem to you
the most thrilling. 10. Why was this such an important battle? 11.
Read Bruce’s address to his soldiers as given by Robert Burns in his
poem “Bannockburn.” 12. Pronounce the following: boggy; exhorted;
fugitive; frontiers.

=Phrases=

fair conquest, 311, 8
disadvantage of situation, 312, 15
was obstinately maintained, 315, 22
disorderly rabble, 315, 30
valiant knight, 315, 33
entreated admittance, 316, 3
fugitive sovereign, 316, 4
civil wars, 316, 37

THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH (1315-1330)

Robert Bruce continued to reign gloriously for several years, and was so constantly victorious over the English, that the Scots seemed during his government to have acquired a complete superiority over their neighbors. But then we must remember that Edward the Second, who then reigned in England, was a foolish prince, and listened to bad counsels; so that it is no wonder that he was beaten by so wise and experienced a general as Robert Bruce, who had fought his way to the crown through so many disasters, and acquired in consequence so much renown, that, as I have often said, he was generally accounted one of the best soldiers and wisest sovereigns of his time.

In the last year of Robert the Bruce’s reign, he became extremely sickly and infirm, chiefly owing to a disorder called the leprosy, which he had caught during the hardships and misfortunes of his youth, when he was so frequently obliged to hide himself in woods and morasses, without a roof to shelter him. While Bruce was in this feeble state, Edward the Second, King of England, died, and was succeeded by his son Edward the Third. He turned out afterwards to be one of the wisest and bravest kings whom England ever had; but when he first mounted the throne he was very young, and under the entire management of his mother.

The war between the English and the Scots still lasting at the time, Bruce sent his two great commanders, the good Lord James Douglas, and Thomas Randolph, Earl of Murray, to lay waste the counties of Northumberland and Durham, and distress the English as much as they could.

Their soldiers were about twenty thousand in number, all lightly armed, and mounted on horses that were quite small in height, but excessively active. The men themselves carried no provision, except a bag of oatmeal; and each had at his saddle a small plate of iron called a girdle, on which, when they pleased, they could bake the oatmeal into cakes. They killed the cattle of the English, as they traveled through the country, roasted the flesh on wooden spits, or boiled it in the skins of the animals themselves, putting in a little water with the beef, to prevent the fire from burning the hide to pieces. This was rough cookery. They made their shoes, or rather sandals, in as coarse a way; cutting them out of the raw hides of the cattle, and fitting them to their ankles, like what are now called short gaiters. As this sort of buskin had the hairy side of the hide outermost, the English called those who wore them _rough-footed_ Scots, and sometimes, from the color of the hide, _red-shanks_.

As such forces needed to carry nothing with them, either for provisions or ammunition, the Scots moved with amazing speed, from mountain to mountain, and from glen to glen, pillaging and destroying the country wheresoever they came. In the meanwhile, the King of England pursued them with a much larger army; but, as it was encumbered by the necessity of carrying provisions in great quantities, and by the slow motions of men in heavy armor, they could not come up with the Scots, although they saw every day the smoke of the houses and villages which they were burning. The King of England was extremely angry; for, though only a boy sixteen years old, he longed to fight the Scots and to chastise them for the mischief they were doing to his country; and at length he grew so impatient that he offered a large reward to any one who would show him where the Scottish army were.

At length, after the English host had suffered severe hardships, from want of provisions, and fatiguing journeys through fords, and swamps, and morasses, a gentleman named Rokeby came into the camp and claimed the reward which the King had offered. He told the King that he had been made prisoner by the Scots, and that they said they should be as glad to meet the English King as he to see them. Accordingly, Rokeby guided the English army to the place where the Scots lay encamped.

But the English King was no nearer to the battle which he desired; for Douglas and Randolph, knowing the force and numbers of the English army, had taken up their camp on a steep hill, at the bottom of which ran a deep river called the Wear, having a channel filled with large stones, so that there was no possibility for the English to attack the Scots without crossing the water, and then climbing up the steep hill in the very face of their enemy; a risk which was too great to be attempted.

Then the King sent a message of defiance to the Scottish generals, inviting them either to draw back their forces, and allow him freedom to cross the river and time to place his army in order of battle on the other side, that they might fight fairly, or offering, if they liked it better, to permit them to cross over to his side without opposition, that they might join battle on a fair field. Randolph and Douglas did nothing but laugh at this message. They said that when they fought, it should be at their own pleasure, and not because the King of England chose to ask for a battle. They reminded him, insultingly, how they had been in his country for many days, burning, taking spoil, and doing what they thought fit. If the King was displeased with this, they said he must find his way across the river to fight them, the best way he could.

The English King, determined not to quit sight of the Scots, encamped on the opposite side of the river to watch their motions, thinking that want of provisions would oblige them to quit their strong position on the mountains. But the Scots once more showed Edward their dexterity in marching, by leaving their encampment, and taking up another post, even stronger and more difficult to approach than the first which they had occupied. King Edward followed, and again encamped opposite to his dexterous and troublesome enemies, desirous to bring them to a battle, when he might hope to gain an easy victory, having more than double the number of the Scottish army, all troops of the very best quality.

While the armies lay thus opposed to each other, Douglas resolved to give the young King of England a lesson in the art of war. At the dead of night, he left the Scottish camp with a small body of chosen horse, not above two hundred, well armed. He crossed the river in deep silence and came to the English camp, which was but carelessly guarded. Seeing this, Douglas rode past the English sentinels as if he had been an officer of the English army, saying—“Ha, Saint George! you keep bad watch here.” In those days, you must know, the English used to swear by Saint George, as the Scots did by Saint Andrew. Presently after, Douglas heard an English soldier, who lay stretched by the fire, say to his comrade, “I cannot tell what is to happen to us in this place; but, for my part, I have a great fear of the Black Douglas playing us some trick.”

“You shall have cause to say so,” said Douglas to himself.

When he had thus got into the midst of the English camp without being discovered, he drew his sword, and cut asunder the ropes of a tent, calling out his usual war-cry, “Douglas, Douglas! English thieves, you are all dead men.” His followers immediately began to cut down and overturn the tents, cutting and stabbing the English soldiers as they endeavored to get to arms.

Douglas forced his way to the pavilion of the King himself, and very nearly carried the young prince prisoner out of the middle of his great army. Edward’s chaplain, however, and many of his household, stood to arms bravely in his defense, while the young King escaped by creeping away beneath the canvas of his tent. The chaplain and several of the King’s officers were slain; but the whole camp was now alarmed and in arms, so that Douglas was obliged to retreat, which he did by bursting through the English at the side of the camp opposite to that by which he had entered. Being separated from his men in the confusion, he was in great danger of being slain by an Englishman who encountered him with a huge club. This man he killed, but with considerable difficulty; and then blowing his horn to collect his soldiers, who soon gathered around him, he returned to the Scottish camp, having sustained very little loss.

Edward, much mortified at the insult which he had received, became still more desirous of chastising those audacious adversaries; and one of them at least was not unwilling to afford him an opportunity of revenge. This was Thomas Randolph, Earl of Murray. He asked Douglas, when he returned to the Scottish camp, what he had done. “We have drawn some blood.”—“Ah,” said the Earl, “had we gone all together to the night attack, we should have discomfited them.”—“It might well have been so,” said Douglas, “but the risk would have been too great.”—“Then will we fight them in open battle,” said Randolph, “for if we remain here, we shall in time be famished for want of provisions.”—“Not so,” replied Douglas; “we will deal with this great army of the English as the fox did with the fisherman in the fable.”—“And how was that?” said the Earl of Murray. Hereupon the Douglas told him this story:

“A fisherman,” he said, “had made a hut by a river side, that he might follow his occupation of fishing. Now, one night he had gone out to look after his nets, leaving a small fire in his hut; and when he came back, behold there was a fox in the cabin, taking the liberty to eat one of the finest salmon he had taken. ‘Ho, Mr. Robber!’ said the fisherman, drawing his sword, and standing in the doorway to prevent the fox’s escape, ‘you shall presently die the death.’ The poor fox looked for some hole to get out at, but saw none; whereupon he pulled down with his teeth a mantle, which was lying on the bed, and dragged it across the fire. The fisherman ran to snatch his mantle from the fire—the fox flew out at the door with the salmon; and so,” said Douglas, “shall we escape the great English army by subtlety, and without risking battle with so large a force.”

Randolph agreed to act by Douglas’s counsel, and the Scottish army kindled great fires through their encampment, and made a noise and shouting, and blowing of horns, as if they meant to remain all night there, as before. But in the meantime, Douglas had caused a road to be made through two miles of a great morass which lay in their rear. This was done by cutting down to the bottom of the bog, and filling the trench with faggots of wood. Without this contrivance it would have been impossible that the army could have crossed; and through this passage, which the English never suspected, Douglas and Randolph, and all their men, moved at the dead of night. They did not leave so much as an errand-boy behind, and so bent their march toward Scotland, leaving the English disappointed and affronted. Great was their wonder in the morning, when they saw the Scottish camp empty, and found no living man in it, but two or three English prisoners tied to trees, whom they had left with an insulting message to the King of England, saying that if he were displeased with what they had done, he might come and revenge himself in Scotland.

After this a peace was concluded with Robert Bruce, on terms highly honorable to Scotland; for the English King renounced all pretensions to the sovereignty of the country, and, moreover, gave his sister, a princess called Joanna, to be wife to Robert Bruce’s son, called David. This treaty was very advantageous to the Scots. It was called the treaty of Northampton, because it was concluded at that town, in the year 1328.

Good King Robert did not long survive this joyful event. He was not aged more than four-and-fifty years, but, as I said before, his bad health was caused by the hardships which he sustained during his youth, and at length he became very ill. Finding that he could not recover, he assembled around his bedside the nobles and counselors in whom he most trusted. He told them that now, being on his death-bed, he sorely repented all his misdeeds, and particularly, that he had, in his passion, killed Comyn with his own hand, in the church and before the altar. He said that if he had lived, he had intended to go to Jerusalem, to make war upon the Saracens who held the Holy Land, as some expiation for the evil deeds he had done. The King soon afterwards expired and his body was laid in the sepulcher in the midst of the church of Dunfermline, under a marble stone. But the church becoming afterwards ruinous, and the roof falling down with age, the monument was broken to pieces, and nobody could tell where it stood. But six or seven years ago, when they were repairing the church at Dunfermline, and removing the rubbish, lo! they found fragments of the marble tomb of Robert Bruce. Then they began to dig farther, thinking to discover the body of this celebrated monarch; and at length they came to the skeleton of a tall man, and they knew it must be that of King Robert, as he was known to have been buried in a winding sheet of cloth of gold, of which many fragments were found about this skeleton. So orders were sent from the King’s Court of Exchequer to guard the bones carefully, until a new tomb should be prepared, into which they were laid with profound respect. A great many gentlemen and ladies attended, and almost all the common people in the neighborhood; and as the church could not hold half the numbers, the people were allowed to pass through it, one after another, that each one, the poorest as well as the richest, might see all that remained of the great King, Robert Bruce, who restored the Scottish monarchy.

It is more than five hundred years since the body of Bruce was first laid into the tomb; and how many, many millions of men have died since that time. It was a great thing to see that the wisdom, courage, and patriotism of a King could preserve him for such a long time in the memory of the people over whom he once reigned. But then, my dear child, you must remember that it is only desirable to be remembered for praiseworthy and patriotic actions, such as those of Robert Bruce. It would be better for a prince to be forgotten like the meanest peasant than to be recollected for actions of tyranny or oppression.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

=Discussion.= 1. What was the condition of King Robert at the
opening of the story? 2. What is said about King Edward III? 3. Who
were the “red-shanks”? 4. Why could these forces move so easily and
quickly? 5. Describe the Scottish camp on the Wear. 6. What was King
Edward’s proposition? 7. What was the lesson Douglas gave the young
King? 8. What do you think of this exploit? 9. What is the story
of the fisherman and the fox? 10. What is the significance of this
story? 11. What was Douglas’s plan of escape? 12. What qualities
does Douglas show in these exploits? 13. What part did the Scottish
peasantry take in the struggle for independence? 14. What were the
terms of the treaty of Northampton? 15. What was King Robert’s
great regret? 16. Describe the finding of Robert Bruce’s remains in
Dunfermline. 17. Pronounce the following: dexterous; adversaries;
subtlety; affronted; advantageous; tyranny.

If you have enjoyed these stories, inquire at the library for a
copy of _Tales of a Grandfather_, and read other stories, such as
“Macbeth,” “Tournaments,” “King David,” and “James I.”

=Phrases=

acquired in consequence, 318, 9
lay waste, 318, 25
wooden spits, 319, 1
dexterity in marching, 320, 20
Saint George, 320, 34
Saint Andrew, 320, 36
pavilion of the King, 321, 12
audacious adversaries, 321, 28
renounced all pretensions, 323, 2
King’s Court of Exchequer, 323, 32

THE PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS

SIR WALTER SCOTT

Not far advanced was morning day,
When Marmion did his troop array,
To Surrey’s camp to ride;
He had safe conduct for his band,
Beneath the royal seal and hand,
And Douglas gave a guide.

The train from out the castle drew,
But Marmion stopped to bid adieu:
“Though something I might ’plain,” he said,
“Of cold respect to stranger guest,
Sent hither by your King’s behest,
While in Tantallon’s towers I stayed,
Part we in friendship from your land,
And, noble Earl, receive my hand.”
But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:
“My manors, halls, and bowers shall still
Be open, at my Sovereign’s will,
To each one whom he lists, howe’er
Unmeet to be the owner’s peer.
My castles are my King’s alone,
From turret to foundation stone;
The hand of Douglas is his own,
And never shall, in friendly grasp,
The hand of such as Marmion clasp.”

Burned Marmion’s swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire;
And “This to me,” he said,
“An’ ’twere not for thy hoary beard,
Such hand as Marmion’s had not spared
To cleave the Douglas’ head!
And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He, who does England’s message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate:
And, Douglas, more, I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride—
Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near,
I tell thee, thou’rt defied!
And if thou said’st I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!”

On the Earl’s cheek, the flush of rage
O’ercame the ashen hue of age;
Fierce he broke forth: “And dar’st thou then
To beard the lion in his den,
The Douglas in his hall?
And hop’st thou hence unscathed to go?
No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!
Up drawbridge, grooms—what, warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall.”
Lord Marmion turned—well was his need,
And dashed the rowels in his steed;
Like arrow through the archway sprung;
The ponderous grate behind him rung—
To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, razed his plume.

The steed along the drawbridge flies,
Just as it trembled on the rise;
Nor lighter does the swallow skim
Along the smooth lake’s level brim;
And when Lord Marmion reached his band
He halts, and turns with clinchéd hand
And shout of loud defiance pours,
And shook his gauntlet at the towers,
“Horse! horse!” the Douglas cried, “and chase!”
But soon he reined his fury’s pace:
“A royal messenger he came,
Though most unworthy of the name.
Saint Mary mend my fiery mood!
Old age ne’er cools the Douglas’ blood;
I thought to slay him where he stood.
’Tis pity of him, too,” he cried;
“Bold he can speak, and fairly ride—
I warrant him a warrior tried.”
With this his mandate he recalls,
And slowly seeks his castle halls.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

=Note.= Marmion, an English nobleman, has been sent as an envoy by
Henry the Eighth, King of England, to James the Fourth, King of
Scotland. The two countries are on the eve of war with each other.
Arriving in Edinburgh, Marmion is entrusted by King James to the care
and hospitality of Douglas, Earl of Angus, who, taking him to his
castle at Tantallon, treats him with the respect due his position as
representative of the King, but at the same time dislikes him. The
war approaching, Marmion leaves to join the English camp. This sketch
describes the leave-taking.

=Discussion.= 1. In what part of the castle does this conversation
take place? 2. Why did Douglas refuse to receive the hand of Marmion?
3. Read the lines that give a vivid picture of the defiant Douglas.
4. What distinction does Douglas make between the ownership of his
“castle” and that of his “hand”? 5. How does Marmion answer the
implied insult in “howe’er unmeet to be the owner’s peer”? 6. What
claim does Marmion make for one “who does England’s message”? 7. What
do we call one “who does England’s message” at Washington? 8. What
does Douglas mean by “to beard the lion in his den”? 9. What lines
show Marmion’s narrow escape? 10. Why do you think Douglas changed
his mind? 11. Would you have admired him more if he had given chase
to Marmion? 12. Which man appears to better advantage in this scene?

=Phrases=

troop array, 325, 2
safe conduct, 325, 4
something I might ’plain, 325, 9
pitch of pride, 326, 8
in thy hold, 326, 9
dashed the rowels, 326, 25

BANNOCKBURN

ROBERT BURNS

Scots, wha hae wi’[24] Wallace bled,
Scots, wham[25] Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!

Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
See the front o’ battle lour;
See approach proud Edward’s power—
Chains and slavery!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward’s grave?
Wha sae[26] base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland’s king and law
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or Freeman fa’,[27]
Let him follow me!

By oppression’s woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty’s in every blow!—
Let us do or die!

[24] _wha hae wi’_, who have with

[25] _wham_, whom

[26] _sae_, so

[27] _fa’_, fall

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

For Biography, see page 63.

=Historical Note.= Burns wrote this ode to fit an old air, said in
Scottish tradition to have been Robert Bruce’s march at the battle
of Bannockburn. “This thought,” he says, “in my solitary wanderings,
has warmed me to a pitch of enthusiasm on the theme of liberty and
independence.” The story is told that Burns wrote this poem while
riding on horseback over a wild moor in Scotland in company with a
Mr. Syme, who, observing the expression on the poet’s face, refrained
from speaking to him. Doubtless this vigorous hymn was singing itself
through the soul of Burns as he wrote it. The poem is considered the
most stirring war ode ever written.

=Discussion.= 1. Who is supposed to speak the words? 2. To whom are
they supposed to be addressed? 3. For what did Bruce contend? 4. What
patriot before him had fought against great odds in the same cause?
5. In these lines, what choice does Bruce offer his army? 6. To
what deep feeling does he appeal? 7. Does this poem represent truly
Bruce’s own feeling for his country, as history acquaints us with it?
8. Which are the most stirring lines? 9. What was Burns’s purpose in
writing it? 10. What influence does such a poem have?

=Phrases=

traitor knave, 328, 9
servile chains, 328, 18
dearest veins, 328, 19
proud usurpers, 328, 21

ENGLAND AND FREEDOM

THE LAST FIGHT OF THE REVENGE

SIR WALTER RALEIGH

The Lord Thomas Howard, with six of her Majesty’s ships, six victuallers of London, the bark _Raleigh_, and two or three pinnaces, riding at anchor near unto Flores, one of the westerly islands of the Azores, the last of August in the afternoon, had intelligence by one Captain Middleton of the approach of the Spanish Armada.

He had no sooner delivered the news but the fleet was in sight. Many of our ships’ companies were on shore in the island, some providing ballast for their ships, others filling of water and refreshing themselves from the land with such things as they could either for money or by force recover. By reason whereof our ships being all pestered and every thing out of order, very light for want of ballast, and that which was most to our disadvantage, the one half of the men of every ship sick and utterly unserviceable. For in the _Revenge_ there were ninety diseased; in the _Bonaventure_, not so many in health as could handle her mainsail; the rest, for the most part, were in little better state.

The names of her Majesty’s ships were these, as followeth: the _Defiance_, which was Admiral, the _Revenge_, Vice Admiral, the _Bonaventure_, commanded by Captain Crosse, the _Lion_, by George Fenner, the _Foresight_, by Thomas Vavisour, and the _Crane_, by Duffield; the _Foresight_ and the _Crane_ being but small ships only—the others were of middle size. The rest, besides the bark _Raleigh_, commanded by Captain Thin, were victuallers, and of small force or none.

The Spanish fleet, having shrouded their approach by reason of the island, were now so soon at hand as our ships had scarce time to weigh their anchors, but some of them were driven to let slip their cables and set sail. Sir Richard Grenville was the last weighed, to recover the men that were upon the island, which otherwise had been lost. The Lord Thomas with the rest very hardly recovered the wind, which Sir Richard Grenville not being able to do, was persuaded by the master and others to cut his mainsail and cast about, and to trust to the sailing of his ship. But Sir Richard utterly refused to turn from the enemy, alleging that he would rather choose to die than to dishonor himself, his country, and her Majesty’s ship, persuading his company that he would pass through the two squadrons in despite of them and enforce those of Seville to give him way. Which he performed upon divers of the foremost, who, as the mariners term it, fell under the lee of the _Revenge_.

In the meanwhile, as he attended those which were nearest him, the great _San Philip_, being in the wind of him, and coming toward him, becalmed his sails—so huge was the Spanish ship, being of a thousand and five hundred tons; who afterlaid the _Revenge_ aboard. When he was thus bereft of his sails, the ships that were under his lee also laid him aboard; of which the next was the admiral of the Biscayans, a very mighty and puissant ship commanded by Brittan Dona. The said _Philip_ carried three tier of ordnance on a side and eleven pieces in every tier.

After the _Revenge_ was entangled with this _Philip_, four others boarded her, two on her larboard and two on her starboard. The fight thus beginning at three of the clock in the afternoon continued very terrible all that evening. But the great _San Philip_, having received the lower tier of the _Revenge_, shifted herself with all diligence from her sides, utterly misliking her first entertainment. Some say that the ship foundered, but we cannot report it for truth unless we were assured.

The Spanish ships were filled with companies of soldiers, in some two hundred besides the mariners, in some five, in others eight hundred. In ours there were none at all besides the mariners but the servants of the commanders and some few voluntary gentlemen only.

After many interchanged volleys of great ordnance and small shot, the Spaniards deliberated to enter the _Revenge_, and made divers attempts, hoping to force her by the multitudes of their armed soldiers and musketeers, but were still repulsed again and again, and at all times beaten back into their own ships or into the seas. In the beginning of the fight, the _George Noble_ of London, having received some shot through her by the armados, asked Sir Richard what he would command him, being but one of the victuallers and of small force. Sir Richard bade him save himself, and leave him to his fortune.

After the fight had thus without intermission continued while the day lasted and some hours of the night, many of our men were slain and hurt, and one of the great galleons of the Armada and the admiral of the Hulks both sunk, and in many other of the Spanish ships great slaughter was made. Some write that Sir Richard was very dangerously hurt almost in the beginning of the fight and lay speechless for a time ere he recovered. But two of the _Revenge’s_ own company affirmed that he was never so wounded as that he forsook the upper deck till an hour before midnight; and then being shot into the body with a musket, as he was a-dressing was again shot into the head, and withal his chirurgeon wounded to death.

But to return to the fight, the Spanish ships which attempted to board the _Revenge_, as they were wounded and beaten off, so always others came in their places, she having never less than two mighty galleons by her sides and aboard her. So that ere the morning from three of the clock the day before, there had fifteen several armados assailed her; and all so ill approved their entertainment, as they were by the break of day far more willing to hearken to a composition than hastily to make any more assaults or entries. But as the day increased so our men decreased; and as the light grew more and more, by so much more grew our discomforts. For none appeared in sight but enemies, saving one small ship called the _Pilgrim_, commanded by Jacob Whiddon, who hovered all night to see the success; but in the morning was hunted like a hare among many ravenous hounds, but escaped.

All the powder of the _Revenge_ to the last barrel was now spent, all her pikes broken, forty of her best men slain, and the most part of the rest hurt. In the beginning of the fight she had but one hundred free from sickness, and fourscore and ten sick. A small troop to man such a ship, and a weak garrison to resist so mighty an army! By those hundred all was sustained, the volleys, boardings, and enterings of fifteen ships of war. On the contrary the Spanish were always supplied with soldiers brought from every squadron, all manner of arms and powder at will. Unto ours there remained no comfort at all, no hope, no supply either of ships, men, or weapons; the masts all beaten overboard, all her tackle cut asunder, her upper work altogether razed; and, in effect, even she was with the water, but the very foundation or bottom of a ship, nothing being left overhead either for flight or defense.

Sir Richard finding himself in this distress, and unable any longer to make resistance, having endured in this fifteen hours’ fight the assault of fifteen several armados, all by turns aboard him, and by estimation eight hundred shot of great artillery, besides many assaults and entries, and that himself and the ship must needs be possessed by the enemy, who were now cast in a ring round about him, the _Revenge_ not able to move one way or other but as she was moved by the waves and billows of the sea—commanded the master gunner, whom he knew to be a most resolute man, to split and sink the ship, that thereby nothing might remain of glory or victory to the Spaniards, seeing in so many hours’ fight and with so great a navy, they were not able to take her, having had fifteen hours’ time, fifteen thousand men, and fifty and three sail of men-of-war to perform it withal; and persuaded the company, or as many as he could induce, to yield themselves unto God, and to the mercy of none else, but, as they had, like valiant resolute men, repulsed so many enemies, they should not now shorten the honor of their nation by prolonging their own lives for a few hours or a few days.

The master gunner readily condescended, and divers others. But the Captain and the Master were of another opinion and besought Sir Richard to have care of them, alleging that the Spaniard would be as ready to entertain a composition as they were willing to offer the same, and that there being divers sufficient and valiant men yet living, and whose wounds were not mortal, they might do their country and prince acceptable service hereafter.

And as the matter was thus in dispute, and Sir Richard refusing to hearken to any of those reasons, the Master of the _Revenge_ (while the Captain won unto him the greater party) was convoyed aboard the _General Don Alfonso Bassan_. Who, finding none over hasty to enter the _Revenge_ again, doubting lest Sir Richard would have blown them up and himself, and perceiving by the report of the Master of the _Revenge_ his dangerous disposition, yielded that all their lives should be saved. To this he so much the rather condescended, as well, as I have said, for fear of further loss and mischief to themselves, as also for the desire he had to recover Sir Richard Grenville; whom for his notable valor he seemed greatly to honor and admire.

When this answer was returned, and that safety of life was promised, the common sort being now at the end of their peril, the most drew back from Sir Richard and the gunner, it being no hard matter to dissuade men from death to life. The master gunner finding himself and Sir Richard thus prevented and mastered by the greater number, would have slain himself with a sword had he not been by force withheld and locked into his cabin. Then the _General_ sent many boats aboard the _Revenge_, and divers of our men, fearing Sir Richard’s disposition, stole away aboard the _General_ and other ships. Sir Richard, thus overmatched, was sent unto by Alfonso Bassan to remove out of the _Revenge_, the ship being marvelous unsavory, filled with blood and bodies of dead and wounded men like a slaughter-house. Sir Richard answered that he might do with his body what he list, for he esteemed it not; and as he was carried out of the ship he swooned, and reviving again desired the company to pray for him. The General used Sir Richard with all humanity, and left nothing unattempted that tended to his recovery, highly commending his valor and worthiness and greatly bewailed the danger wherein he was, being unto them a rare spectacle, to see one ship turn toward so many enemies, to endure the charge and boarding of so many huge armados, and to resist and repel the assaults and entries of so many soldiers.

Sir Richard died, as it is said, the second or third day aboard the _General_, and was by them greatly bewailed. What became of his body, whether it was buried in the sea or on the land we know not; the comfort that remaineth to his friends is that he hath ended his life honorably in respect of the reputation won to his nation and country, and of the same to his posterity, and that, being dead, he hath not outlived his own honor.

—_Abridged._

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

=Biographical and Historical Note.= In the autumn of 1591 a small
fleet of English vessels lay at the Azores to intercept the Spanish
treasure ships from the Indies. On the appearance of the Spanish
war-vessels sent to convoy the treasure ships, the much smaller
English fleet took flight with the exception of the _Revenge_,
commanded by Sir Richard Grenville. Lord Bacon described the fight as
“a defeat exceeding victory.”

This story of the fight of the _Revenge_ was written by Sir Walter
Raleigh (1552-1618), a cousin of Grenville’s. He was an English
explorer, colonizer, and historian. He planted the first English
colony in America, on Roanoke Island, off the coast of North
Carolina. Later, he was interested in an attempt to form a colony
in Guiana, and his account of his experiences is one of the most
thrilling adventure stories in the world. His daring exploits made
him a favorite at the court of Queen Elizabeth, but after her death
he gained the ill-will of James I and was executed on a false charge
of piracy and treason.

=Discussion.= 1. Describe the English fleet as it lay anchored near
Flores. 2. What was the condition of the men on the _Revenge_ and
the _Bonaventure_? 3. What two things could Sir Richard do? 4. Which
did he choose? Why? 5. How were the Spanish ships manned as compared
with the English? 6. What quality of character did Sir Richard show
in his treatment of the _George Noble_? 7. Describe the condition
of the _Revenge_ on the second day of the fighting. 8. What was Sir
Richard’s order to the master gunner? 9. What was the opinion of the
captain and the Master? 10. What do you think about the reasons
they gave? 11. What was the Spaniard’s offer? 12. Would you have
been on the side of the captain and the Master of the _Revenge_, or
on the side of Sir Richard and the master gunner? 13. Pronounce the
following: Armada; Azores; becalmed; tiers; bade; hovered; ravenous;
dissuade.

=Phrases=

providing ballast, 330, 9
shrouded their approach, 331, 5
weigh their anchors, 331, 8
puissant ship, 331, 27
hearken to a composition, 332, 35
tackle cut asunder, 333, 17
divers sufficient, 334, 7
he esteemed it not, 334, 36

YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND

THOMAS CAMPBELL

Ye Mariners of England,
That guard our native seas,
Whose flag has braved, a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze!
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe,
And sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow;
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.

The spirits of your fathers
Shall start from every wave!—
For the deck it was their field of fame,
And Ocean was their grave.
Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell,
Your manly hearts shall glow,
As ye sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow;
While the battle rages loud and long
And the stormy winds do blow.

Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o’er the mountain-waves,
Her home is on the deep.
With thunders from her native oak
She quells the floods below,
As they roar on the shore,
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long
And the stormy winds do blow.

The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn;
Till danger’s troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return.
Then, then, ye ocean-warriors!
Our song and feast shall flow
To the fame of your name,
When the storm has ceased to blow;
When the fiery fight is heard no more,
And the storm has ceased to blow.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

For Biography, see page 180.

=Discussion.= 1. Which stanza refers to the present; which one to the
past; and which one to the future? 2. Why does the poet take this
view into the past and the future? 3. Notice the interesting rime in
the seventh line of every stanza. 4. Compare the eighth, ninth, and
tenth lines of the fourth stanza with the corresponding lines in the
other stanzas. 5. Notice the pleasing effect which the poet produces
by using, in one line, several words beginning with the same letter:
“battle,” “breeze,” “loud and long.” 6. Find other examples. 7. Show
that this poem, written long after Sir Richard Grenville’s death,
expresses the spirit in which he fought.

=Phrases=

glorious standard, 336, 5
field of fame, 336, 13
meteor flag, 337, 11
danger’s troubled night, 337, 13
star of peace, 337, 14
ocean-warriors, 337, 15

ENGLAND AND AMERICA NATURAL ALLIES

JOHN RICHARD GREEN