Robert the Bruce’s Heart and the Macho Bus Driver

We were returning from Carratraca to Torremolinos by bus once. We had gone to Carratraca from Torremolinos on the same bus with the same driver the day before. A solemn group we were, many recovering from their exertions at a discothèque the night before. Livelier than porch furniture, but not much.

` Our driver stopped the bus on the berm of a hillside road and directed our attention to the plain below. Silhouetted on a hill on the other side of the plain rose the ruins of the castle of Teba. “Here,” our driver announced, “is where Robert the Bruce almost lost his heart to the Moorish army.”

Some of our group were familiar with the story, but for others, including myself, it was totally new information. What was Robert the Bruce doing in Spain?

Actually, he wasn’t in Spain, our driver went on to explain. Just his heart was in Spain. The rest of his body had remained behind, buried at Dumfermline. The Bruce had always wanted to go on a crusade or at least make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. But, what with fighting the English, he just never had time to go. (Subsequent research informed me that Robert the Bruce changed allegiances five times in the course of his political career and spent some of his time fighting other Scotsmen as well. Politics was a murky business in those days and many Scottish nobles also held lands in England.)

When the Bruce died he begged his friend Sir James Douglas to carry his heart to Spain to fight the Muslims, or even to Jerusalem, if they got that far. The Good Sir James (also known as The Black Douglas in England where mothers used this name to scare their children to bed) set out with some soldiers and some other nobles set on adventure carrying the Bruce’s heart in a silver box. There Sir James joined forces with a Spanish army. The combined armies found themselves facing a sizable Moorish force on the plain below Castle Teba.

The Moors feinted a retreat and the Scots charged. The Spanish had seen this trick before, and so they didn’t charge. The Scots were soon surrounded, but the Douglas fought his way free. But looking back, he saw the Sinclair surrounded and fighting for his life. The Douglas rode back into the fray and soon found himself hopelessly surrounded.

He thereupon threw the silver box containing the Bruce’s heart among the enemy and charged. Both the Sinclair and the Douglas died in the battle. The box containing the Bruce’s heart was found under the Douglas’ body and returned to Scotland where it was buried at Melrose Abby, not Dumfermline.

I have gone a little overboard in telling this story, considering this is a memoir and I wasn’t there at the battle, and I’m really glad for that. It’s a fascinating story, a real story. If it were fiction, it would make more sense. I especially like the story because it demonstrates that other people besides Plains Indians can find a way to die gloriously but stupidly on the field of battle.

As the driver concluded his little story of Moorish mayhem and Scots vainglory, one of our female tourists loudly complimented him for giving such an interesting tour. “Besides,” she added, “you’re so macho.”

We burst out laughing because macho in Spain has a different meaning than it does in California or Arizona. In Spain the word refers more to endowment rather than behavior. Some less than generous people wanted to know how she knew and when she knew it. Our lady tourist, now vermillion, said, “Oops!” and sat down.

True story. Well, I don’t know about the Robert the Bruce part, but the macho bus driver, certainly.