Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The Caged Lady of Buchan

The Caged Lady of Buchan.

John Comyn, the last of the Earls of Buchan, had married Isabel Macduff, sister of the recusant Earl of Fife—one, along with her husband, of Edward's adherents. This lady was as warmly attached to the cause pf the Bruce as her husband and brother were opposed to it. The honour of placing the Scottish crown upon the head of the sovereign at the ceremony of coronation belonged of hereditary right to her brother, Lord Fife; but when Bruce was to be crowned at Scone, her brother, by his desertion of the cause, had forfeited, or at least abandoned, this distinguished privilege of his family. Determined that none but a Macduff should aspire to this honour, and in the enthusiasm of her own zeal for the cause, Isabel heroically assumed the office, and with her own hands raised the crown of Scotland to the brow of her rightful sovereign. Soon after this, Edward unfortunately became the arbiter of her future destiny. Isabel, having fallen into his hands, was kept shut up a prisoner, for seven years in Berwick Castle, in an iron cage; illustrating a frightful feature of the times, and of the character of Edward in particular.—Pratt's Buchan.

 

"Lady! what cruel doom is thine,Like tameless monster caged, to pine Through the sweet prime of age!Could aught but lust of power and pride,Have shaped this death, through years to bide, To glut a tyrant's rage?

"O shame to knighthood!—shame to thee,Foul stain on England's chivalry, Thou rude and ruthless king!Thou fledd'st before the northern foe,And yet didst stoop, with coward blow, To strike so fair a thing!

"Lady! I see thee in thy pride,When setting woman's fear aside—  O deed of rare renown!—With mail's resolve, but woman's grace,Thou daredst on regal brow to place Old Scotia's sacred crown.

"Thy recreant brother, Fife's proud heir,Had he possessed thy soul to dare Not England's king to fear,How great had he been in the deedWhich gave the Bruce his rightful meed! Then—hadst thou not been here!

"Not kindred—no, nor wedded love—Could thy high soul to treason move: Husband and brother heWho most could feel his country's woes,And best give back the foemen's blows, And set old Scotia free."

"Stranger! I would these bars might rot,And Buchan's countess be forgot, Might this remembered be!That in the princely halls of Scone,The Bruce, in mounting Scotland's throne, Proclaimed his country free!

"Whilst thus redressed my country's wrongs,Shall I forget proud Edward's pangs In weeping o'er mine own?For well I wot this deed of shameShall married be to Edward's name, Where'er that name is known.

"For me, then, weep not; weep for thoseWho, leagued with Scotland's ancient foes Dishonoured traitors prove,And leave it to a woman's handTo fill the story of their land With deeds of faith and love.

"Then hie thee, stranger! tell my foesThat Isabel, 'mid all her throes, Is high of heart, and leal;Mothers henceforth shall proudly tellHow caged and prisoned Isabel Did serve her country's weal!"