An English Earl knocked on the front door with a battering ram, but Patrick Dunbar wasn’t home.
The enemy Earl believed this castle kept by women would be easily swept from their keep.
He learned hard that a Scotswoman doesn’t sweep easy.
Earl arrived at Dunbar Castle early in 1338, February.
Marching up from Edinburgh, his army encircled the entire fortress.
They petitioned the mistress of the manor, Mrs. Dunbar…
“Surrender, or be sieged!” they said.
The lady of the lair rendered the following response…
“Of Scotland’s King I haud my house,
I pay him meat and fee,
And I will keep my gude auld house,
while my house will keep me.”
Did you know Scots invented the “rap battle?”
The English were much better at old, less fashionable forms of battle.
So they began battering the walls with mud-caked boulders.
When the trebuchet slings hung still, even the proud top parts had not cracked.
The damage was so nil, Madam Dunbar marched her damsels across the walls.
Dressed in their Sunday best, they faked fear and laughed and feigned tears.
They made a show of dusting the ramparts with their handkerchiefs.
Blustering, Salisbury staked his final assault.
“Get ‘The Sow’ to the wall!!” he ordered.
The Sow was a two-story siege machine, soldiers up top, miners down under.
Why was it named like a mother of pigs? We have no idea.
“To the wall! That’s it!” he said.
Mother Dunbar and her maids promptly dropped a wardrobe-sized rock on the porcine machine.
Their gravity powered pile driver had been delivered air mail, courtesy of the Royal Catapults.
That soggy stone squished the squealing structure completely.
The Earl of Salisbury “sallied forth” shortly thereafter.
That’s fancy English for “he gave up and went home.”
Agnes Dunbar held her own.
Some have said this story is too wild to be true.
If you’ve known a woman who carries the spirit of Scotland in her heart…
…you know this sounds about right.
Easy going hard knowing looks safe cracking smiles easily strong castle keeping Sunday best dressed down river heart over head out of town squared shoulders brushing boulders off… flint face on, smiling, knowing, holding her own.
She lives and loves on her own two feet.
No sweepy sweepers need apply.
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P.S. Two ancient words suggest that this special spirit lived in the first lady.
My friend wrote about it. Some think he’s crazy. He’s definitely not sweepy.
Only click if you like ideas that surprise. =)
