In the year 1263, about the feast of the blessed Peter as Vincula (Lammas Day), the king of Norway, Hakon by name, arrived at Ayr Castle with a large fleet of men-at-arms, and with the view of invading the kingdom strove to subdue to his sway all the island districts; for he maintained that all the islands lying between Scotland and Ireland belonged to him by right of inheritance. So he straightway took by force and occupied the royal castles of Bute and Arran, and invaded, plundered and sacked the neighbouring lands of Scotland along the seaboard; nor would this man, out of honour and reverence to Almighty God, respect the sacredness of the churches, but he cruelly harried and wasted everything with fire and sword. But when he had come further in, into the district of Cunyngham, on the feast of the nativity of the blessed Virgin Mary, and had gained the land and pitched his tents at a place which is called Largs and brought his fleet to the seacoast there, behold! a most mighty battle-array of Scottish men-at-arms approaching, led on behalf of the king of Scotland by that noble knight the Lord Alexander Stewart of Dundonald, great-grandson of the first Walter Stewart. This Alexander was the grandfather of the noble Walter Stewart of far-famed memory, who married the daughter of Robert de Bruce. So this Alexander, being joined by other nobles of that countryside, came with such as he could get at a moment's notice, set upon them manfully, overthrow their army and humbled their pride; and through God's vengeance he fought and overcame them and punished their wicked attempt. A great number of them were; slain, the chief men of the rest were captured, and the remainder he forced to flee to the seashore, towards their fleet. Among these was killed a man of great valour, a noble knight, the nephew of the said king of Norway, who mourned greatly thereat and was wroth beyond measure. But when they who were on board ship saw this, they were sore troubled; and when they would have come on shore, lo! suddenly a strong wind burst forth from the west, split the sails, cud owing to the fearful swell of the sea, the aforesaid ships dragged their anchors and were tossed by the dreadful storm, so that some parted company, some again were dashed and tossed together, went to pieces and foundered; while others were cast ashore and dashed to pieces on the rocks and strewn in small fragments along the seacoast, together with their booty; and the men were drowned. Those, however, who escaped with their lives safe and sound engaged our men in a fresh battle; and straightway all but the king, who with a few men fled to the ships in the greatest haste, were overcome and borne down through the grace and miracle of the blessed Queen Margaret of Dunfermline, and were either left slain on the field, or brought to the king of Scotland as captives with the Scottish chiefs; and there was hardly any one left to tell the tale. But; when the king, who had barely escaped and was on board ship sorrowing and mourning, beheld his disaster, he at once set sail for the Orkneys and, the foggy weather coming on, remained there awhile to rest, awaiting his revenge. He was indeed flaming with fury; and, in order to avenge his nephew's death and other wrongs and grievances, he wrote off to his kingdom and prepared to lead back again a very large army against the king of Scotland the following summer. While awaiting there the coming of a fresh fleet, however, he was seized with a short illness and departed this life; and lie was succeeded by his son named Magnus, a man of letters, peaceful and distinguished for kindness, and of great wisdom in the eyes of all.