they were quartered, they easily dispersed them, thus, as Douglas had said, doing their pursuers more injury than they themselves had received during the long and severe pursuit of the preceding day. The consequence of these successes of King Robert was that soldiers came from all sides to join him, and that he obtained several victories over the English; until at length they were afraid to venture into the open country as formerly, unless they could assemble themselves in considerable bodies. They thought it safer to lie still in the towns and castles which they had garrisoned, and wait till the king of England should once more come to their assistance with a powerful army. The Battle of Bannockburn Independent of my enthusiasm as a Scotchman, I have rarely met with anything in history which interested my feelings as a man equal with the story of Bannockburn. On the one hand, a cruel but able usurper leading on the finest army in Europe to extinguish the last spark of freedom among a greatly daring and injured people; on the other hand, the desperate relics of a gallant nation, devoting themselves to rescue their bleeding country or to perish with her. ROBERT BURNS The English soldiers were obliged to give up city after city and fortress after fortress, until they possessed scarcely any place of importance except Stirling, and that was blockaded by the Scots. The king of England now set out for Scotland with an army of nearly one hundred thousand men. King Robert summoned all his nobles and barons to join him. His whole army did not very much exceed thirty thousand men, and they were not so well armed as the wealthy Englishmen. But Robert who was at their head was one of the most expert generals of the time; his officers were brave and experienced leaders; and the soldiers were hardy men accustomed to fight and gain the victory under every disadvantage of situation and numbers. The Scottish army was drawn up in line of battle between Stirling and the brook called Bannockburn. Bruce reviewed his troops and addressed the soldiers, expressing his fixed purpose to gain the victory or to lose his life on the battle ground. He desired all to leave the field who were not willing to fight to the last, and only those to remain who were determined to take the issue of victory or death as God should send it. Bruce to his Men at Bannockburn Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots wham Bruce has aften led, Or to victory! Now's the day and now's the hour: Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Wha, for Scotland's king and law, By oppression's woes and pains! Lay the proud usurpers low! Liberty's in every blow! ROBERT BURNS In this great battle at Bannockburn the Scots totally defeated the English, who were now no longer in a condition to support their pretensions as masters of Scotland. They became for a time hardly able to defend their own frontier against King Robert and his soldiers. Thus did Robert Bruce arise from the condition of an exile to the rank of an independent sovereign universally acknowledged as one of the wisest and bravest kings of that time. And his beloved Scotland was raised likewise from the situation of a distressed and conquered province to that of a free and independent nation governed by its own laws and subject to its own kings. The Scots 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. It is therefore most just 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. WALTER SCOTT MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS MY heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; The hills of the Highlands forever I love. Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow; ROBERT BURNS SIR WALTER SCOTT AND HIS DOGS FTER my return from Melrose Abbey, Scott proposed a ramble to show me something of the surrounding country. As we sallied forth, every dog in the establishment turned out to attend us. There was an old staghound, Maida, a noble animal and a great favorite of Scott's; and Hamlet, the black greyhound, a wild, thoughtless youngster, not yet arrived to the years of discretion; and Finette, a beautiful setter, with soft silken hair, long pendent ears and a mild eye, the parlor favorite. When in front of the house, we were joined by a superannuated greyhound, who came from the kitchen wagging his tail, and was cheered by Scott as an old friend and comrade. In our walks, Scott would frequently pause in conversation to notice his dogs and speak to them, as if rational companions. And, indeed, there appears to be a vast deal of rationality in these faithful attendants on man, derived from their close intimacy with him. Maida deported himself with a gravity becoming his age and size and seemed to consider himself called upon to preserve a great degree of dignity and decorum in our society. As he jogged along a little distance ahead of us, the young dogs would gambol about him, leap on his neck, worry at his ears and endeavor to tease him into a frolic. The old dog would keep on for a long time with imperturbable solemnity, now and then seeming to rebuke the wantonness of his young |