CHAPTER XXVII. THE BATTLE OF LARGS.

Two weeks of gloomy weather passed, with clouded skies and fitful winds. During that time nothing was heard in Bute of either Roderic the Rover or King Hakon of Norway. Kenric and his men, with the priests of St. Blane's, made busy work in burying the dead. Also, they got all their shipmen and fishers, farm workers and shepherds, to build up the devastated cottages and farmsteads, and one by one these dwellings again received their wonted inmates. The villages of Rothesay, Ardbeg, Kames, Ascog, and other settlements in the island had been roughly handled by the invaders, and many farms had been despoiled. But for the greater part the shells of the houses had been left standing, and there were many hands to make light work of restoring them.

The Lady Adela of Rothesay, Lady Grace de Currie, Ailsa Redmain, and the women of Rothesay Castle took up their quarters in the nunnery attached to the barony of St. Blane's, for none would return to the castle while yet a Norseman remained therein; and Kenric had passed his word that he would not attempt to regain possession of his stronghold until the kings of Norway and Scotland had settled their dispute.

On the last day of September Sir Piers de Currie, Kenric, and Allan -- now Sir Allan Redmain, for the knighthood of Scotland was hereditary -- were walking over from Ascog, when, looking towards the seaboard between Arran and the Cumbraes, they observed a great fleet of ships, with many flags flying from their masts, making across the Clyde. A hundred and fifty war galleys there were in all.

"The saints protect us!" cried Allan. "What means all this?"

"'Tis even as I expected," said Kenric. "They are the ships of Hakon of Norway, who now intends to invade the mainland."

"Then, if this be indeed so," said Sir Piers, "methinks it is now our place to be following under the banner of our sovereign. Too long have we already delayed. To your ships, Kenric! To your ships this very hour! Muster your men and let us at once hasten over to Cunningham, for, if I mistake not, King Alexander must even now be marching to the coast. 'Tis but small help that we can offer, but let it not be said that we shirked our duty in the hour of Scotland's need."

"Go, Sir Allan," said Kenric, "hasten to the headland of Garroch and there blow me on your horn the call to arms. Not long will our men be in answering that summons.

"And now, Sir Piers, to you do I resign the command of our forces. Give us your directions and we will promptly obey."

"Let every man who can draw a longbow, or wield pike or sword, be sent upon the ships," said the knight. "At noon, when the tide is at the half flood, we set sail for Gourock."

"Gourock?"

"Even so. The bay of Gourock is our best shelter, and thence we can march southward towards Largs, or to whatsoever spot the enemy determine to make their landing place."

"'Tis well," said Kenric.

"And furnish me with the best horse you can find," added Sir Piers, "for 'tis on horseback that I would fight."

So at noon that day seven galleys hove anchor in the bay of Kilchattan, with each a company of seven score men; in all a thousand gallant islanders sailed that day from Bute. Creeping up the shores of the island, past Kerrycroy and Ascog, they steered across by Toward Point. And by this time the fleet of King Hakon had disappeared into the channel that flows between the two Cumbrae islands.

As Kenric's ships crossed the Clyde a drizzling rain came on, and the wind began to blow in fitful gusts from the southwest. But they reached the safe harbour of Gourock without mishap, and there cast anchor.

That night the half moon that shone dimly through the scudding clouds lay on her back, with a great circle of light around her, betokening stormy weather.

The next morning, which was the 1st of October, was cold and windy. Sir Piers ordered his troops ashore, leaving but a few shipmen to watch the galleys. Landing amidst a shower of heavy hail he was met by a party of mounted Scots clad in complete mail, who told him that King Alexander had already started from Lanark with fifteen hundred mounted men-at-arms.

Sir Piers marshalled his islanders in order and gave the word to march, and ever as they moved southward they were joined by the villagers and parties of sturdy fighting men.

Kenric and Allan, with Duncan Graham at their side, marched afoot, for both were wont to feel ill at ease in the saddle. Nevertheless Allan cast many an envious glance at the gallant knight who led them. Sir Piers was clothed in the most beautiful suit of armour that had ever been seen in that time. His horse was a powerful Spanish jennet that had belonged to Earl Hamish of Bute, and it was protected by a heavy breastplate and flank armour. The rider was splendidly armed from head to foot, his helm and coat of mail being inlaid with gold. At his left side there hung a long claymore, longer by three inches than Kenric's great sword. In his right hand he held a ponderous battle-axe of solid brass, and from his pommel there hung a spiked mace whose head was as large as the head of a man. His belt was studded with precious stones. Not in all his army had King Alexander a stronger or nobler warrior than Sir Piers de Currie; nor had he one, either strong or weak, who had a deeper hatred against the Norse invaders, for they had burnt down his castle of Ranza, and by them had his own uncle's castle of Brodick been razed to the ground and his uncle slain. He was to fight that day for his beautiful wife and his children, for the possession of his estates, for his revenge against his enemies, and for his King and country; and none who saw him could have doubted that he would prove a most valiant and powerful antagonist.

Kenric had on his crested helm of brass, and wore a shirt of steel mail. His knees and arms were bare, showing his firm muscles and the suntanned skin; on his feet he wore buskins of double hide, and his legs were protected by brass greaves. Over his back his longbow was slung beside his full arrow sheaf. At his right side was his dirk, at his left the sword of Somerled. On his arm he carried a small round shield studded with nails, though this was more an encumbrance than a defence, since his sword required the use of his two hands, and the shield might only be employed as a protection against arrows fired from a distance.

Sir Allan Redmain was attired in like manner. As to their islanders, some few of them of the better condition -- as Duncan Graham and Ronald Gray -- wore shirts of mail, but the larger number, so far from desiring armour when they came to close quarters with the enemy, even threw their plaids aside and fought in their shirts, bare legged, bare armed, bare headed. Many of them carried bows and arrows; all had either claymores or pole-axes, with daggers and targets.

They had marched some ten miles southward through the sheltered glens of Noddsdale when, mounting to the ridge of the range of hills that rise above the shores of Cunningham, they were met by a keen icy wind from the southwest. Below them stretched the wide Firth of Clyde, turbulent, angry with foam-capped waves. Far across the water rose the giant mountains of Arran, with their tattered peaks frowning in dark-blue blackness against the leaden sky, and through a rent in the clouds a long beam of sunshine shot, slanting down for a moment upon the soft green hills of Bute. On the nearer side were the two islands of Cumbrae, with a strip of gray sea between them, where lay the storm-tossed galleys of King Hakon the Old.

These ships, which during the night had taken shelter in the harbour that is now named Millport Bay, were already making for the shores of the mainland below the village of Largs, for it was at this point that the Norse king had determined to land his invading forces.

Largs was not a spot which a modern general would have chosen for an invasion. It was ill suited for troops forming in strength after landing. There is a narrow strip of level ground, with bluffs rising right up from it. Troops marching along this strip, either north or south, would be flanked by the higher ground for many miles. To attempt to pass through any of the ravines which pierce the range of hills would have been perilous. Nevertheless Hakon had chosen this landing place.

"Methinks," said Sir Piers de Currie, as he watched the Norse galleys battling with the waves, "that our work is already half accomplished. Should the wind rise yet higher no easy task will Hakon find it to land his men on that lee shore."

"Had I been he," said Kenric, "it is not thus that I would have lingered among the isles ere I made a descent upon the mainland. Had Hakon pressed onward with all his forces, instead of despatching a squadron here and a squadron there for useless plundering, had he made straight for Scotland while yet the fair weather continued, and while yet King Alexander was unaware of his approach, he might even have made a successful conquest.

"But look eastward yonder across the hills at the fair troop of Scots advancing in battle array. Look down upon the plain of Largs, where a good two thousand men are waiting ready. Soon will King Alexander himself be here with his cavalry from Lanark. By my faith, the Norseman will have a warmer welcome than he looks for!"

"Let us then hasten downward," said Sir Piers, "that we may have a taste of the battle before the elements have entirely robbed us of our foe."

Troop after troop of Scots marched onward toward Largs. From Ayr they came, from Renfrew, Dumbarton, Stirling, Turnberry, and many another stronghold that had been warned of the enemy's nearness by means of beacon fires on the highest hilltops.

But of the forces that were making ready to meet them the Norsemen knew little. They were at present too much engaged in attending to the safety of their ships, and not any of them could make a landing that day. The wind rose higher, the tempest increased in fury, and at nightfall there came a deluging storm of hail and rain which continued until late next morning.

For this the Scots cared little. Curling themselves up with their plaids about them they slept soundly upon the heather, undisturbed by the howling of the wind and the raging of the waves upon the rocky shore. But with the invaders it was far from being such an easy matter. Their anchors dragged. Many vessels had to have their masts cut away. King Hakon's own gallant ship, although secured by seven anchors, was driven from her moorings, and five galleys were cast ashore.

And now when the tempest seemed to threaten the total destruction of their enemies, a mixed multitude of armed Scots on the surrounding heights watched every movement of the Norwegian fleet, ready to take instant advantage of its distress. So, when the five galleys with their armed shipmen were driven ashore, Sir Piers de Currie and the men of Bute rushed down from the heights and attacked the stranded vessels. Whereupon the Norsemen defended themselves with great gallantry.

The rest of the fleet were presently seen beating up the channel towards Largs, and, as the tempest had lulled, reinforcements soon landed in such numbers that the Scots were forced to retire towards the heights.

At sunrise King Hakon himself came ashore with a force of three thousand men, ordering an advance towards the higher ground. At the moment when the marching order was given the army of King Alexander appeared upon the hilltop. The sun's rays breaking through the ragged clouds sparkled upon spears and cuirasses. The cavalry made a noble appearance. Most of them were knights and barons from the neighbouring counties, armed from head to heel, and mounted on Spanish horses which were clothed in complete armour. With this troop of fifteen hundred horsemen was a vast body of foot soldiers.

Seeing all this, Sir Piers de Currie no longer hesitated to renew his engagement. Rallying his men he began to skirmish with the advance of the Danes and Norwegians. He pressed on both flanks with so much fury that, fearing they would be cut to pieces -- as many were -- the enemy began a retreat which soon changed into a flight. King Hakon and many of his best fighting men scrambled into the boats and pushed off into the safety of the deeper water, regaining their ships.

Everything now depended upon the landing of reinforcements. But at this critical moment a violent storm of hail came on; the wind rose again with such strength that it completed the ruin of many of the ships. In the midst of the fighting on land there was a still more furious battle upon the waves. Galley after galley was driven upon the rocks, and their crews had little spirit for meeting their overpowering enemies.

Between the anger of the elements and the ceaseless showers of arrows from the Scots, their army was greatly distressed. Their leaders, too, began to desert them, and in their frantic efforts to escape they overcrowded the boats, many of which went down.

Sir Piers de Currie now drew up his men in line on the hillside, and left them in charge of Allan Redmain and Kenric. Then he rode to meet the King, whose troops had by this time descended to the level ground.

"So, then, Sir Piers," said Alexander, whose tall figure, as he sat on his brown jennet, was almost wholly covered by a great cloak -- "so you have arrived before us? And are we then to have no share in this adventure? 'Tis passing unfriendly in you thus to dismiss our enemy ere we have seen his face. Tarry awhile and let them land again. Our horsemen here are like hounds straining at the leash. What men have you, Sir Piers?"

"A few hundred peasant lads, your Majesty, and some eight hundred men of Bute," said the knight.

"And are there then none cf your own men of Arran?"

"Alas, sire, these Norse dogs have left me but a handful of followers, for my uncle has been slain, and our four castles have been taken. Our islanders have taken refuge among the mountains. I and my family, who, by God's grace, escaped, have been these two weeks past in Bute, where Earl Kenric has most heroically saved the lives of many hundreds of your loyal subjects. 'Tis true he has lost his castles of Rothesay and Kilmory, but --"

"Kenric of Bute has done well," said the King. "We have already heard of all that he has done for the people of Bute. It was from one of his own messengers that we first heard of Hakon's arrival on our coasts. Kenric shall not be forgotten. Our only regret is that he did not put an end to that villainous outlaw his uncle. But there may yet be hope that Roderic is in the field this day. So we pray you, Sir Piers, should you encounter him, deal him his death blow, and you shall have our eternal gratitude. And now to your work, and God defend the right."

Then as Sir Piers rode off to rejoin his troops, the King turned to a stalwart warrior at his side and bade him show King Hakon a lesson in defence. This warrior was Alexander the high steward of Scotland, a man bred in the use of arms, and, next to Sir Piers de Currie, the most valiant soldier that fought in that field. And with him rode three good English knights who were of the court of Alexander. With a full company of cavalry he rode across the plain and took up his position with Sir Piers de Currie.

During this interval the hailstorm had abated, and the Norsemen had again effected a landing in great numbers under the chiefs Ogmund Kraekidantz and Haffling of Orkney.

Sir Piers de Currie and the steward rode forward side by side, attempting in the chivalrous style of the time to provoke an encounter. But none would take this challenge, so Sir Piers rode back. Then the steward, riding in front of the ranks of the enemy who were drawn up along the beach, was speedily surrounded. Spurring his charger, he dashed forward, and wielding his great battle-axe he struck down the opposing Norsemen as the waving wheat falls before the sickle, leaving a row of slain men in his track.

The Norsemen then rushed forward with loud cries to meet the troops of peasants and men of Bute who charged them. But the horsemen galloped in between and drove the enemy along the shore. The fair-haired warriors of the North again and again rallied and behaved with the accustomed bravery of their viking ancestors, fearless of wounds and glorying in warlike death.

Many galleys were then brought nearer inshore, and though assailed by heavy stones from the Scots' machines and ceaseless showers of arrows, their men scrambled upon the beach. And now Sir Piers de Currie again rode forward, followed by Kenric, Allan Redmain, Duncan Graham, many men of Bute, and others of Lanark and Ayr. This was the one sortie of the engagement that was in the nature of a real battle. In numbers the two sides were almost equal.

Sir Piers was met by five Norse chiefs, and he encountered them with fierce courage. One by one he felled them to the ground, cleaving their brass helms with his heavy axe. And ever as they fell their places were taken by as many others. At his horse's left side fought Kenric, Allan, and Duncan; Kenric swinging his great sword and smiting right and left at those who tried to reach the horseman, Allan and Duncan in like manner fighting with steady blows. And thus they pressed their way ever farther into the ranks of the enemy, moving with Sir Piers, backward or forward, and defending his left side as he slew his assailants on his right.

Kenric heard the gallant knight's panting breath growing weaker.

"To the other side, Duncan," he cried. And Duncan Graham worked round behind the horse's tail to relieve Sir Piers of some of his foes who pressed upon him. Not long had he changed his position when Kenric saw the horse swerve and fall. A deep groan from Sir Piers was all that told of the terrible wounds he had received.

The Norwegian chronicle recording this fight says that Sir Piers de Currie was killed by a blow which severed his thigh from his body, the sword cutting through the greaves of his armour and penetrating to the saddle. Howbeit the brave Sir Piers was slain, and the man who slew him was the outlaw Roderic MacAlpin.

Duncan Graham, seeing who had done this thing, at once closed with Roderic, and the two fought with terrible vigour.

Now Duncan, ever since he had received that wound in his chest over at Coll, had lost the power to raise his right arm above his head, and it went ill with him. When Kenric, rushing to Sir Piers de Currie's right side, first saw his enemy, Roderic was in the act of smiting a fearful blow upon Duncan's bare and outstretched neck. Duncan fell, not even uttering a groan, so speedily fatal was the blow he had received.

But above the clang of the battle and the thunderous surging of the waves, there rose at this moment into the air a woman's cry of anguish. It was the cry of Aasta the Fair.

Wearing the same coat of mail and helmet that she had worn at the siege of Rothesay, and wielding a light broadsword, she had been fighting with as fearless bravery as any man there present. She had cloven her way through the battling men to the place where rose the towering head of her lover Duncan, and arrived at his side at the very moment when the sword of Roderic smote him down. Splashed with her lover's blood she gripped her sword, nor paused to see if Duncan were indeed dead. She leapt with a wolf-like howl upon Roderic MacAlpin, and so pressed him with her blows that he stepped back and back.

The maid, though strong, was ill-trained in the use of the sword, and her every blow was skilfully parried. But to Aasta's side came Kenric, his eyes gleaming with fierce hatred of his foe. They were now at the very verge of the sea, and the spray from the surging billows fell upon them like heavy rain. Roderic struck at Aasta, muttering a curse, and Kenric in parrying that blow missed his chance. He saved Aasta's life, but before he could recover his weapon, Roderic had quickly turned round and plunged into the foaming waves.

Promptly did Kenric thrust his sword between his knees and take his longbow from over his shoulder. Aasta as promptly handed him an arrow. He saw Roderic standing waist deep in the breakers sheathing his sword. He levelled an arrow at his throat, but quickly as the arrow flew Roderic raised his shield. The dart plunged into the hard board. Another and another arrow followed with the same result. Then Roderic, throwing himself into the deeper water, and holding his shield to defend his bare neck, swam outward towards the ships.

No other man in all that host could have breasted those great waves without being dashed to pieces on the rocks. But Roderic MacAlpin was as much at home in the water as upon the dry land, and though Kenric believed that he had but preferred a watery grave to being hacked to death by sword or axe, yet Roderic reached his ship in safety and lived to fight another day.

Kenric, returning with Aasta from the beach, found Allan Redmain, surrounded by many men of Bute, fighting still. There was a great sword cut across his cheek, but his strong arms waved about him unceasingly, smiting down at every blow one of the fair-haired warriors of the North. Then Kenric joined in the fray, swinging his trusty blade to right, to left, and forcing his way to Allan's side, where he stood his ground over the dead body of Sir Piers de Currie.

That good knight's splendid armour had caught the eyes of his covetous foes, who were also enraged at the thought of the many doughty Norsemen who had fallen under his mighty blows. Twelve of their best men were victims of his well-wielded battle-axe, and of the twelve were the Norse barons Ogmund Kraekidantz, Thorlang Bosi, Paul Soor, Andrew Nicholson, and King Hakon's own nephew, Hakon of Steini, all of them most gallant and brave warriors.

But not less enraged were the Scots on their side at the death of Sir Piers, whose body now became the centre point of battle. The Norsemen strove to gain possession of his armour, and piece by piece they carried it away. But ever the Scots bore down upon their foes. Swords, pikes, and axes dripped with the crimson drops of battle, arrows and heavy stones fell in the midst of the contending forces; the groans of the wounded, the lusty shouts of the deep-throated combatants sounded loud above the raging of the wind and the thunderous beating of the waves.

Very soon the foemen shrank away, leaving a great gap in their lines through which the Scots cavalry charged, driving the Norsemen to their ships, or forcing them into the turbulent sea.

At the head of the cavalry rode the Scottish King with his valiant steward at his side. But little did the horsemen do, for the enemy, already routed by the defenders, and further dispersed by the tempest of wind and hail, gave up the fight. Many scrambled upon their boats and pushed off from land, and very soon there was scarce a living Norseman to be seen upon the strand.

The steward of Scotland then drew up his forces to the heights, where they formed anew. There they remained for many hours in the shelter of the woods, for the storming of the elements was terrible to behold.

Towards evening the tempest lulled and the Norsemen, still undaunted, again ventured ashore in vast numbers, landing their boats through a tremendous surf. These new troops, led by Roderic MacAlpin and Haffling of Orkney, attacked the Scots upon two points, making a desperate charge, and with such success that they killed many and drove the whole army back into the farther valley. But here the Scots suddenly halted. Their left wing wheeled round, and taking the invaders in their rear they speedily brought to an end that battle of Largs.

The relics of this brave body of invaders, with their two leaders, again embarked in their boats, and although the storm continued, safely arrived at the fleet. The remaining ships of Hakon were woefully shattered; they drove from their anchors, many were stranded on the shore, others struck against shallows and rocks, or found equal disaster by running foul of each other.

The next morning presented a beach covered with dead bodies and a sea strewn with wreckage.

King Hakon himself had never so much as drawn his sword. His barons and officers had urged him to remain on board his ship. Defeated, and dismayed at his manifold disasters, he called for a truce for the burial of his dead, and five days were spent by friend and foe in consort in raising above the graves of the fallen warriors those rude memorials the traces of which still remain to mark the field of battle.

Of the twenty thousand followers of the Norse king scarcely as many hundreds remained alive, and of his splendid fleet but a score of dismantled galleys were left afloat to carry back the defeated invaders to their several homes.

Crossing to the outer seas, Hakon gathered about him the few pirate chiefs who had joined him in the hope of plunder, and upon them he bestowed as rewards for their service the islands of which he had made imaginary conquest. He gave the isle of Arran to Earl Margad, who had invaded it, and upon Roderic MacAlpin he bestowed the isle of Bute. These chiefs, however, did not at once take possession of their estates, but remained on the ships that they might help to replenish the exhausted provisions of the fleet by forcible contribution from the isles.

King Hakon now felt the vast change that had come over his armament during the few weeks since he sailed down among the Western Isles, conquering and winning to his side the island princes as vassals of his flag. He returned as a baffled invader, and encountered many severe rebuffs from the islanders as well as further disasters from the winter storms. The fatigues of that expedition and his bitter disappointments sank deep into his old heart, and never again did he see the home that he had left. Landing in Orkney on the 29th of October, he remained in the palace of Kirkwall, and there died a broken-hearted man.

So concluded this memorable expedition against Scotland, which began with high hopes, but ended only with disaster and the death of its royal leader. No more did the sons of the vikings attempt to take their stand upon the Western Isles.

Alexander III, freed from a restless and powerful enemy, could look forward to a continuance of peace and prosperity. But he lost no time in following up the advantages he had gained from the engagement at Largs. In the following year he sent a strong military force against those unfortunate chiefs who during the late expedition had remained faithful to Hakon. Some of the island kings were executed; all were reduced.

Three years afterwards, in 1266, the disputes with Norway were finally settled by a formal treaty with Magnus IV, Hakon's son, who agreed to yield to Scotland for ever after, all right and sovereignty over the Isle of Man and the Western Isles, specially reserving Orkney and Shetland to the crown of Norway.

In the year 1281 a bond of friendship was established between the two nations by the marriage of the Scottish princess Margaret, daughter of Alexander III, to Eric of Norway, the grandson of Hakon the Old. It was the daughter of this marriage, Margaret the Maid of Norway, whose sad death in 1290 brought about the disputes of Bruce and Baliol, and led to the great war of Scottish Independence.