As in the first war the turning-point had proved to be the death of Edward I in the summer of 1307, so now, exactly thirty years later, came another decisive event. In the autumn of 1337, Edward III first styled himself King of France, and the diversion of his energies from the Scots to their French allies rendered possible the final overthrow of Balliol and the Scottish traitors. The circumstances are, however, parallel only to the extent that an intervention of fortune rendered possible the victory of Scottish freedom. In 1337 there was no great leader: the hour had come, but not the man. For the next four years, castle after castle fell into Scottish hands; many of the tales are romantic enough, but they do not lead to a Bannockburn. The only incident of any significance is the defence of the castle of Dunbar. The lord of Dunbar was the Earl of March, whose record throughout the troubles had been far from consistent, but who was now a supporter of King David, largely through the influence of his wife, famous as “Black Agnes”, a daughter of the great Randolph, Earl of Moray. From January to June, 1338, Black Agnes held Dunbar against English assaults by sea and land. Many romantic incidents have been related of these long months of siege: the stories of the Countess’s use of a dust-cloth to repair the damage done by the English siege-machines to the battlements, and of her prophecy, made when the Earl of Salisbury brought a “sow” or shed fitted to protect soldiers in the manner of the Roman testudo,
“Beware, Montagow,
For farrow shall thy sow”,
and fulfilled by dropping a huge stone on the machine and thus scattering its occupants, “the litter of English pigs”—these, and her “love-shafts”, which, as Salisbury said, “pierce to the heart”, are among the most wonderful of historical fairy tales. In the end the English had to raise the siege:


