Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume X Part 14

The reign of the ill.u.s.trious Malcolm III., surnamed Canmore, King of Scotland, which began in the year 1057, was not more distinguished for heroism and literature than for love. He was both a religious and a valiant king, and was often victorious against the Danes, who frequently invaded Scotland. In his time, William, Duke of Normandy, conquered England, and in the great battle of Hastings, which took place in 1066, killed King Harold. Edgar, the lawful heir to the English crown, seeing the country conquered, and the n.o.bles routed and dispersed, took s.h.i.+pping with his mother and sisters, and arrived in the Frith of Forth, and landed at Queensferry, which received its name from Margaret, the eldest sister of Edgar, whom King Malcolm afterwards married. King Malcolm was killed at the siege of Alnwick by Robert Moubray, who, unarmed, upon a light horse, came out of Alnwick Castle, with a lance in his hand, and bearing the keys of the castle upon its point.

King Malcolm, while earnestly regarding the keys, was stabbed by Moubray through the left eye to the brain, and died instantly. King William the Conqueror, in consequence of this achievement, changed the name of Moubray to that of Percy, of whom are descended the Dukes of Northumberland.

After sundry usurpations, Edgar and Alexander, the first and second sons of King Malcolm, severally reigned for a number of years, and died childless; and in 1124, David I., the hero of our tale, ascended the throne. He possessed a large share of his father's virtues, and during his reign cultivated those arts and sciences which Malcolm had encouraged. His heart was particularly susceptible of the tender pa.s.sion, and of the power of beauty. It is a well-established historical fact, that King David occasionally resided at the Castle of Crail, which stood on a rock overhanging the harbour, and vestiges of this royal residence still remain. A summer-house now stands on the site, surrounded by a large garden; and the place is sometimes occupied by the owner, a landed gentleman in the neighbourhood, and his friends, for the purposes of good fellows.h.i.+p and social intercourse.

While residing at the Castle of Crail, the king and his younger n.o.bles resolved on partaking of the wild sports of the neighbourhood; and with this view they proceeded one day, well mounted, and attended by the hounds, to Kingsbarns, a fine tract of land belonging to the crown, where the grain was stored in barns for payment of the king's rents; and from thence they pa.s.sed on to an extensive and thickly-wooded district--in fact, a large forest, which now const.i.tutes a considerable portion of the Parish of St Andrews and surrounding parishes. The ancient name of this district was _Cursus Apri_, or, the Boar-Chase, and hence is derived the present name of the village contiguous, "Boar-hills."

Having started a wild boar out of this forest, it took a westerly course towards Kingsmuir (which, as its name implies, also belonged to the crown), and the party set off in hot pursuit. This muir, now highly cultivated, was, at the time to which we refer, a waste or common of little value, and on which many of the neighbouring proprietors, in consequence, claimed a servitude right of pasturage; but it was under an officer of the crown, styled "Heritable Keeper of the Kingsmuir." Here, then, while engaged in the exciting sport of the chase of the boar (which, in the end, was killed at Kingscairn Mill), a deer, a fox, and a wild cat also broke cover, and the attention of the hunters and hounds being thus divided, the party separated, and the king found himself alone upon the muir.

David was in the prime of life--a very handsome man, and of princely bearing, and, while thus unattended and unknown, he met with a lovely young shepherdess in a lonely part of the muir, tending her father's sheep. The name of the young woman, he found, was Maude, or Matilda, and, having inquired of her where she abode, he departed, resolving to cultivate the acquaintance he had thus accidentally formed. He frequently visited the shepherdess after this (who was entirely ignorant of his rank), in the capacity of a private gentleman, and her conversation was his delight. There was something mysterious to him in her deportment and her accomplishments: she possessed the strictest innocence and the most dignified bearing without the slightest embarra.s.sment. Though plainly attired, "grace was in all her steps," and every action exhibited courtly propriety and ease. Though her observations were chiefly confined to her flocks, and to rural affairs, yet she would occasionally surprise the king with her remarks upon astronomy, history, geography, morals, and agriculture, which bespoke a mind informed far above the common level. Being thus engaging in her mind and manners, it was not to be wondered at that every additional visit increased the love and affection of the astonished king, whose dignity was her torture. His pa.s.sion grew stronger every day.

The king was captivated with her charms. Honour, however, governed his actions, and subjected his wishes to the control of virtue: he wished to raise her to an exalted situation, not to triumph over her innocence--in short, he wished to make her his royal bride; but this seemed impossible, and he returned dejected to his Castle of Crail. He regretted that high rank should now stand in the way of his happiness, and almost wished he had not been born a king. He consulted the Lord of Douglas, his prime minister, urged the beauty, the virtue, the genius of Matilda, but all in vain; the reply was, that policy and prudence required him to seek a union with some exalted character--an alliance with the daughter of a powerful and wealthy prince; and that, were he to place a shepherdess on the throne, his n.o.bles would be disgusted, and quit his court, and in all probability proceed by open violence to resent the supposed insult to their dignity. The king admitted that what was said was too likely to be the fact, and at the same time reprobated that pride which deemed an alliance with obscure and unt.i.tled virtue disgraceful; but he knew the prejudices of his n.o.bility were unconquerable, and he submitted with great reluctance to his fate. His friends--and amongst others the Lairds of Cambo, Anstruther, Grangemuir, and Balcombie, the Provost of Crail, and Prior of St Rufus, the remains of whose chapel may still be seen a little eastward of Crail, near Roome Bay, and whose well (called the Prior's Well) is yet resorted to occasionally by the good people of the Nethergate--those friends, we say, tried in vain to divert the king's thoughts, and alleviate his distress. They informed him of the great antiquity of the burgh--that it was a place of note in the ninth century. They conveyed him on horseback to the Dane's d.y.k.e, the remains of a bulwark of stones thrown up by our Danish invaders in one night, where human bones, in great quant.i.ties, are yet cast up by the plough on the farm of Kilmining; and they then pa.s.sed on to the Cave of Balcombie Sands, where they told him one of his majesty's predecessors, Constantine, the Scottish king, was beheaded by the Danes, in the year 871, he having been taken prisoner in a skirmish, while the enemy were retreating. The party then visited the Castle of Balcombie, a lofty and extensive pile of building, of immense strength and remote antiquity, where, in after years, Mary of Guise was hospitably entertained, on landing, after a tempestuous pa.s.sage, at Fifeness-haven, in order to be married to King James V. From hence King David proceeded to Airdrie, or Ard-rhi--a name which in the Celtic language denotes "the king's height"--then a favourite royal hunting-station on the borders of Kingsmuir; and, returning to Crail, the Runic Cross was not forgotten.[9]

[Footnote 9: This is a singular monument, and of great antiquity. At the repair of the church of Crail, it was laid down in place of a piece of Arbroath pavement, to form one of the pa.s.sages, and is thereby already somewhat mutilated, and had it been allowed to continue much longer in that situation, it must have been entirely obliterated; but it is gratifying to state that, while these lines are going to press, a gentleman from the Cape of Good Hope, on a visit to Crail, his native parish, has had the good taste to get the stone removed, and placed in the wall of the church, where it will be now preserved from further dilapidation.]

It were endless to tell of all the devices resorted to by his friends to alleviate the king's melancholy. The greatest beauties of the castle courted his smiles without effect. Their charms seemed but to remind him of the superior fascinations of his beloved Matilda. Nothing seemed to remain to him but the trying task of parting, perhaps for ever, from his captivating shepherdess.

The king often thought of asking Matilda for the story of her life, but dreaded that the narrative would but confirm his misery. Upon one of his visits, he missed her at the accustomed spot, but found a venerable old man attending the sheep in her place. The king anxiously inquired for Matilda, and was informed that she was visiting a family in the neighbourhood.

The family which she had gone to visit lived in an unpretending mansion beautifully situated on a ridge of rising ground, which stretches from east to west, nearly through the middle of what is now the Parish of Carnbee. This ridge rises in different places into hills of a beautiful conical form, and are green and verdant to the summit; these are Carnbee-law, Kellie-law. Gillings.h.i.+ll, and Cunner-law. It was to Gillings.h.i.+ll Matilda had directed her steps, and, occupying as it did an elevated position, the house commanded an extensive and splendid view.[10]

[Footnote 10: Among the objects which the eye now takes in by a short sweep are the n.o.ble mansion of Kellie Castle, belonging to the Right Honourable the Earl of Mar and Kellie; Grangemuir, the residence of the Right Honourable Lord William Douglas; Balcaskie, the seat of Sir Ralph Abercrombie Anstruther, Baronet; together with Elie House and village, with its commodious harbour; Kilconquhar House, with its beautiful loch; Balcarras, with its picturesque craig, its ivy-mantled chapel, and its many military, historical, and literary a.s.sociations; Pitcorthie, with its magnificent mansion; Gibleston, with its fine woods and gardens, and many villas of lesser note.]

The maiden had acquainted her father that she often had a visiter when keeping her flocks in the muir, and, from her description of him, the old man conceived the individual present to be that person, and accordingly invited him to their habitation, which invitation David, throwing aside for awhile his usual courtly ceremony, accepted.

He went on with sorrowing steps, and yet would not have staid behind.

The small and unpretending cottage before him damped him at first, but when he thought upon it as the home of his fair enchantress, his spirits were again cheered. He found in the place neatness and rural elegance.

He would have been happy to have changed his sceptre for a shepherd's crook, and his n.o.ble Castle of Crail for this humble dwelling. He was invited to refresh himself, and Matilda soon joined them; but, although the table was spread with healthful rustic dainties, he could not do justice to the feast. Matilda's charming company and conversation was his regalement. The old man apologised for the homeliness of his fare, supposing _that_ to be the cause of his guest's abstinence, and said, "That once he could have entertained him better, but now he had little more to offer than a hearty welcome."

A knock was heard at the door, and a young farmer having entered who wished to buy some sheep, the old man retired with him with the view of making a bargain.

The young couple being left alone, David moved his chair nearer to that of Matilda, and began to renew his attentions to her; but, however much she was pleased with the courtly air and intellectual conversation of her visiter, she was resolved to act with prudence and circ.u.mspection.

She therefore took this opportunity of stating to him, in a polite and kindly manner, that, as he had said his visits were paid for the purpose of making _her_ acquaintance, and that while she thanked him for the favourable opinion he had often expressed with regard to her, yet, as he was a stranger, and had never been regularly introduced, she should be obliged to decline his future visits. She further stated, that he must be well aware there can be no safe principle except this, that every man aiming at our acquaintance must be introduced to us by some person we already know, who becomes a guarantee, as it were, for the propriety of his behaviour and the honour of his views; that without this we can never be sure that the individual addressing us is not a designing adventurer, who would think nothing of making our happiness his sport; and that for a young female to admit the addresses of an unknown young man, however fascinating his manners or n.o.ble his air, would be to run a great risk of disappointment and unhappiness for life.

The old man now came into the room, and the subject of conversation being changed, King David shortly afterwards took leave of his entertainers, bowing respectfully as he retired.

Matilda's father had been her tutor, and he was well qualified for that office. To aid the development of her infant mind--to pour forth to her, as she grew in years and in reason, all the fruits of his own richly-cultivated intellect, was the solitary consolation of one over whose head was impending the misfortune of incompetence, or deficiency of means for the adequate support of himself and his daughter. Matilda was gifted with a mind which, even if her tutor had not been her father, would have rendered tuition a delight. Her lively imagination, which early unfolded itself; her dangerous but interesting vivacity; the keen delight, the swift enthusiasm with which she drank in knowledge, and then panted for more; her shrewd acuteness, and her innate pa.s.sion for what was excellent and beautiful, filled her father with rapture, which he repressed, and made him feel conscious how much there was to check, to guide, and to form, as well as to cherish, to admire, and to applaud.

As she grew up, the bright parts of her character shone with increased l.u.s.tre; but, in spite of the exertions of her instructor, some less admirable qualities had not yet disappeared. She was still too often the dupe of her imagination; and though perfectly inexperienced, her confidence in her theoretical knowledge of human nature was unbounded.

She had an idea that she could penetrate the character of individuals at first meeting; and the consequence of this fatal axiom was, that she was always the slave of first impressions, and constantly the victim of prejudice; she was ever thinking individuals better or worse than they really were, and she believed it to be out of the power of any one to deceive her. Constant attendance during many years on a dying beloved mother, and her deep religious feelings, had first broken, and then controlled, a spirit which nature had intended to be arrogant and haughty. Her father she adored; and she seemed to devote to him all that consideration which, with more common characters, is generally distributed among their acquaintances.

We hint at her faults. How shall we describe her virtues? Her unbounded generosity, her dignified simplicity, her graceful frankness, her n.o.bility of thought and feeling, her firmness, her courage, and her truth, her kindness to her inferiors, her constant charity, her devotion to her parents, her sympathy with sorrow, her detestation of oppression, her pure unsullied thoughts, her delicate taste, her deep religion--all these combined would have formed a delightful character, even if unaccompanied with such brilliant talents and such brilliant beauty as she possessed. Nature and art were the graces which had combined to form this girl. She was a jewel set in gold, and worthy of a king.

After the remarks made by Matilda on his last visit, the king resolved to make known to the old man and his daughter his rank and station with as little delay as possible; but, being wishful at the same time to ascertain previously what were the feelings of Matilda towards him as a private individual, irrespective of his kingly crown and dignity, he thought it best to postpone the communication until he should have learned the history of the old shepherd and his family. For this purpose he repaired on an early day to Kingsmuir, and bearing in mind the few words which formerly fell from the old man in reference to his having seen better days--words which had greatly raised the hopes of the king, and fixed his attention on the story of their fortunes--he entreated the sage to relate the same, which he agreed to do, and began as follows:--"I was formerly Earl of Northumberland, and husband of Juditha, grand-daughter of William the Conqueror. Our family were nearly connected with royalty, and my possessions in lands, flocks, and herds, exceedingly extensive and valuable. I lived in becoming splendour. I was beloved by my neighbours, and happy in my family. My estates are situated not far from the borders of Scotland, and were frequently invaded by the Scottish chiefs. For a long time my tenants and servants bravely repelled these attacks, but at length increasing in their numbers, we were overpowered. They spoiled and ravaged all our lands, and drove away our flocks and herds, save a small portion, with which I removed to the East of Fife, to find security and protection. Here have I since lived--suppressed my style and t.i.tle, and pa.s.sed myself off as a poor old shepherd, with this my humble but virtuous and affectionate daughter, the comfort and support of my declining years."

The king struggled to conceal the thrilling emotions which he felt at this narration, and asked the old man whether he had applied at court for succour in his distress. His question was answered thus:--"No; my family, consisting of but myself and young Matilda, and my desires being confined to narrow bounds, by the dictates of religion and philosophy, I thought it unjust to ask of this country that support which health and honest industry could procure, and thereby deprive more useful subjects of their just reward." The king admired the generous spirit of the venerable sage; told him he had interest at court; a.s.sured him that the king would be glad to see him, and insisted that he and his daughter should hasten thither; which journey, after considerable hesitation, they resolved to undertake.

It is impossible to describe the transports of the young king on this occasion. He came back to the castle, to inform his courtiers that two interesting strangers were shortly to visit them, and he made all due preparations for his expected and welcome guests. The scene was now changed from deep despondency to the most complete joy and felicity.

At the appointed time the old shepherd and his lovely daughter arrived at the good old town and Castle of Crail; and having recovered from their surprise, the king introduced them to the court in their rural habits, without disclosing their rank. As companions of the king, the courtiers were obliged to receive them with civility, but their affected politeness could ill conceal their absolute contempt. The court broke up, and the king again engaged in conversation with the Earl of Northumberland. He requested to know where his daughter derived so much knowledge? To which the earl replied, "From my own poor stock. She was my sole companion. I thought it my interest as well as my duty to teach her every science I knew. She had an apt and comprehensive intellect, and easily received instruction."

In a few days the king again a.s.sembled all his courtiers. He had previously advised with the prime minister and privy councillors on the propriety of a marriage with an earl's daughter of royal lineage, and obtained their unqualified consent and approval. He then introduced the old man as the Earl of Northumberland, and the beautiful shepherdess as his daughter Matilda. Shame seized the ungenerous n.o.bility for their former conduct, but the offended parties soon removed their embarra.s.sment; and a n.o.ble suite of apartments were soon set aside for the earl and Matilda in the house of the governor of the castle.[11]

[Footnote 11: The Castle of Crail was an important station in early times. The fortress was entered by a ma.s.sive gate in the Sh.o.r.egate, the site of which is now occupied by a house some time belonging to the late Mr William Cowan. Within the rampart which defended the entrance were placed the guard-house and apartments for officers. For centuries the castle consisted of little more than these houses and a single tower, surrounded by a barbican, and other defences; but after the end of the eleventh century it became of more importance as a royal residence for King David. In his reign the fortifications were considerably extended; a governor's house was erected, with two circular towers, from which a grand view was obtained to seaward, and of the surrounding country.

Within a second gate were two courts, containing the king's palace, the parliament hall, the chapel, and other buildings. The roof of the king's room in the palace was completely covered with rich carving in oak, long regarded by the town's-people with veneration. There was also a house for storing grain, and a well of excellent water within its walls. This fortress was considered the key of the East of Fife, and, before the invention of gunpowder, was deemed impregnable.]

In a fine summer afternoon David and his beloved Matilda were seated alone in a room of the governor's house.

Now, as interviews between lovers are usually very delightful to our fair young friends in general, we might for their benefit narrate at great length all that was said and done by the parties above mentioned; but, without disappointing them altogether, we shall be very brief on the subject, and rather hasten to unfold more important parts of their adventures.

"Sweet Matilda," began David, "my heart, that never knew another love, is all your own. Since we first met on Kingsmuir, your image has not quitted my mind for a second. Not for a moment have I ceased to think you the best, the most beautiful, the most enchanting, the most endearing creature that ever graced our country."

She turned; her eye glistened; her arm fell over his shoulder; she buried her head in his breast. At this very moment the door opened, and the earl her father entered; and David exclaimed, "Oh, my dear earl, I am the happiest man that ever breathed."

"What is all this?" inquired the earl.

"Is it possible," said the king, "that you have not long before detected the feelings I ventured to entertain for your daughter? In a word, she requires only your sanction to my being the most fortunate of men."

"My gracious sovereign," cried the earl, "it is out of the power of man to impart to me any event which could afford to me such exquisite pleasure."

The earl then approached his daughter, and, bending down, pressed the lips of his child. It was the seal to their plighted faith, and told without speech that the blessing of a father mingled with the vows of a lover. At this moment Matilda thought only of her father--that friend of her life in prosperity and adversity, whose love had never been wanting--was she now about to leave him? She rose; she threw her arms about her father's neck, and wept.

The earl at this time considerately remembered that he wanted to see his servant, and they were left alone. Their eyes meet; their soft looks tell that they are thinking of each other. His arm steals round the back of her chair, and with the other hand he gently lays hold on hers. But why more? First love--first love, how many a glowing bard has sung thy charms! Nature herself seemed to those loving hearts more beautiful than ever. Their own thoughts reflected themselves in every object that met their view, as they wandered amidst the shady woods or along the sunny braes near the royal residence.

But although the young king was in love, duty was not to be neglected; and the old earl entreated that the youthful pair should cease to wander on the West Braes, and Roome Links, and woods, and muirs which at that time surrounded the burgh. He urged the king to examine and make good the walls of the town, and the gates at the East and West Ports, and Jockey's Port, as well as those of the Nethergate and Sh.o.r.egate; also the castle walls, gates, and defences, and whole fortifications. The armoury came likewise under observation, and an inspection took place of the bowmen, while practising archery in the Bow b.u.t.ts. These precautions became necessary, as rumours began to be circulated that a war might speedily be expected with the English.

The affairs of state having also received due attention, the court resolved to visit the Isle of May.

The morning was remarkably fine, when the king, with the Earl of Northumberland, Matilda, and a number of his court, embarked at Crail in a pleasure-yacht for the May. The air was pure, the sea slightly ruffled with a favouring breeze, and the sky almost cloudless; all nature looked bright and beautiful, and the morning sun cast the shadows of the vessel's masts across the water in the harbour.

The harbour of Crail presented a very animated scene. Everything was in unison with the sunny day and the ill.u.s.trious occasion. The piers were lined with soldiers, and behind them were dense crowds of spectators.

The royal Scottish standard was flying from the castle, and from the south pier-head. The harbour was crowded with boats and small craft, to witness the departure. On the yacht leaving the harbour, the cheer was taken up by the soldiers and the populace, while the band struck up the national air.

The Island of May was reached in less than an hour. In sailing round the western side, the most discordant sounds saluted the ear from kittiewakes, seagulls, scouts, and other wild sea-fowl, which inhabit the rock in myriads, and nestle in the bare crevices; and some of the party, wishful to display their skill in archery, brought down a few of the birds with their arrows, both sitting and on the wing. A landing was safely made on the southern side, and the company separated into small parties, to stroll over the island, and view its natural curiosities and various remains of antiquity, particularly its priory and gifted holy well.

After spending a delightful day, the court embarked with the afternoon's tide for Crail, and, when at a distance from the island, they viewed with interest the romantic Castle of Dreel, the stronghold of the Anstruthers of Anstruther, to whom the king had lately granted a charter, wherein the heir is designed "Filius Willielmi de Candela, domini de Anstruther:" "son of William de Candela, Lord of Anstruther,"

a name obviously of Norman origin. This castle lies at the bottom of the bay, between the Billowness and Craignoon Rock, with its rough, grey, antique houses cl.u.s.tering round the mouth of the Dreel burn. Brightly on sea and on sh.o.r.e shone the unclouded afternoon's sun on the white cliffs of the isle, and the rugged sh.o.r.e of the East of Fife, with all its caverns, rocks, and towers, its ancient burghs, with their pointed spires, and long and straggling fis.h.i.+ng villages, that dot the rocky beach. The scene was lovely and beautiful. The Forth shone like a stream of lucid gold; West Anstruther, with its old church of Norman architecture; Royal Crail, with its lofty castle, its chapel, and turreted battlements; Castle Cunningham, at the West Braes, and its gloomy caverns not far distant--all these were visible at once, and bathed in ruddy light.

King David having now declared his intention of espousing Matilda, the marriage was soon after solemnised within the chapel of the castle, with much splendour and dignity. The guests of the bridal were the n.o.bility and dignified clergy, and in their suite a numerous a.s.sembly of va.s.sals.

A thousand knights, in their robes of silk, attended the bride on the morn of her nuptials, and several days were spent in hunting, feasting, dancing, and other circ.u.mstances of pomp and revelry.

A tournament, the frequent amus.e.m.e.nt of this warlike age, also took place. This was a martial sport or exercise which the ancient cavaliers used to perform to show their address and bravery. On this occasion, Walter Bisset, a powerful baron, who piqued himself on his skill in his weapons, was foiled by Patrick, Earl of Athole. An old feud which existed between these families embittered the defeat, and Athole was found murdered in his house, which, probably for the purpose of concealment, was set on fire by the a.s.sa.s.sins. The suspicion of this slaughter--which, even in an age familiar with ferocity, seems to have excited unwonted horror--immediately fell upon the Bissets; and although _Walter_ was the person concerned in the tournament, the popular clamour pointed to _William_, the elder brother, and chief of the family. He was pursued by the n.o.bility, who were incited to vengeance by the Earl of March and David de Hastings, and would have been torn to pieces, had not the interference of the king protected him from the fury of the friends of Athole. Ultimately the Bissets were condemned, their estates forfeited to the crown, and they were ordered to repair to Palestine, and there, for the remaining days of their lives, to pray for the soul of the murdered earl.

When we muse on the chivalric and martial sports which distinguished our ancient burgh in former days, and witness the silence and gloomy depopulation which now reign in our streets; when we compare its lofty and formidable castle with its present bare and defenceless walls; when we think of the great maritime and commercial interest carried on, before the Union, between its harbour and Holland, and other foreign countries, and see its present limited coasting trade, we can scarcely help regretting the loss of its ancient grandeur. One cannot help _feeling_ that of this royal residence, where princes feasted and heroes fought--now in the b.l.o.o.d.y earnest of storm and siege, and now in the games of chivalry, where beauty dealt the prize which valour had won--all is now desolate, all its glory is departed. The mossy ruins of its castle walls only serve to show what their extent and splendour once was, and to impress on the mind of the musing visiter the transitory nature and value of all human possessions, and the true happiness of _those_ who enjoy a humble lot in virtuous contentment.

Some of our readers may deem the marriage of David and Matilda a singular and improbable circ.u.mstance; but we can tell of a far more romantic bridal, and one well attested by historical evidence, which happened little more than a hundred years afterwards--viz., in 1272--with which important consequences were connected:--A Scottish knight of high birth, Robert de Bruce, younger of Annandale and Cleveland, was pa.s.sing on horseback through the domains of Turnberry, which belonged to Marjory, Countess of Carrick. The lady happened at the moment to be pursuing the diversion of the chase, surrounded by her squires and damsels. They encountered the Bruce. The young countess was struck by his n.o.ble figure, and courteously entreated him to remain and take the recreation of hunting. Bruce, who, in those feudal days, knew the danger of paying too much attention to a ward of the king, declined the invitation, when he found himself suddenly surrounded by the attendants; and the lady, riding up, seized his bridle, and led off the knight with gentle violence to her Castle of Turnberry. Here, after fifteen days' residence, the adventure concluded as might have been antic.i.p.ated: Bruce married the countess, without the knowledge of her relations, or obtaining the king's consent; upon which King Alexander seized her Castle of Turnberry. The intercession of friends, however, and a heavy fine, conciliated the mind of the monarch. Bruce became, in right of his wife, Lord of Carrick, and the son of this marriage of romantic love was the great Robert Bruce, the restorer of Scottish liberty.