They called it ... English.

Have the folks at the U.S. Library of Congress never seen "Braveheart"?

Last year, the world's foremost cataloguing experts peered into their decimal systems and concluded that Scottish works should fall within the confines of English. The bureaucratic blunder incited an international scandal. And a mild-mannered lawmaker from wee North Carolina became a hero to Scots of literary bent -- making deals on the moors over salmon and fine Scotch whisky, wielding congressional might like the swords of his ancestors.

Any historian worth his bagpipes knows of Scotland's bitterness after a bloody war in the late 1200s against the English monarchy.

"You can imagine the insult," said Mike McIntyre, North Carolinian, Scotsman, Democratic congressman and -- more on this later -- co-chairman of Congress' Friends of Scotland Caucus.

In the Tar Heel State resides perhaps the country's largest concentration of Scottish descendants, many near McIntyre's hometown of Lumberton. When McIntyre fights for the Scots, he figures, he fights for his constituents as well.

Ah, but what a foe he faced.

The U.S. Library of Congress rises, literally and figuratively, as one of the greatest troves of catalogued knowledge in the world. More than 138 million volumes rest there, adjacent to the U.S. Capitol, each stamped with its own identifying classification. Flip to the back of the title page of most any book, and you'll see it: a coded series of dashed letters and numerals as unique as a snowflake.

Last spring, the experts decided to rejigger the system -- putting Scottish, Welsh and Irish works together under the larger "English" heading.

"This was not a matter of ethnicity," said Library of Congress spokesman Matt Raymond. "This was a matter of language."

This was seen as a bad idea.

"It was quite a big deal," said Stuart McLean, second secretary for Scottish affairs in the British Embassy in Washington.

As the U.S. Library of Congress goes, so goes the world. Its catalogue influences libraries worldwide, and so the Scots found their heritage and system suddenly, ah, scotched.

"That was a scandal," said Patrick Scott, who runs the world's largest collection of Scottish works outside Scotland, at the University of South Carolina. "It was outrageous."

No one suggested drawing torrents of blood as did Scotland's rebel martyr William Wallace -- the character Mel Gibson played in the movie "Braveheart" -- but many literary types felt a sting.

Overseas, the National Library of Scotland learned of the change. So did the London Times, which gleefully scoffed with a splashy story in December.

"You realize, there is a distinct heritage of Scottish literature, poetry, Scottish songs," McIntyre said. "This was a no-brainer. The Library of Congress doesn't need to be telling Scotland how to classify their literature."

The Library of Congress decided quietly to reverse its decision.

Then, nothing. No official word arrived to soothe restless Scottish hearts.

As it happened, McIntyre was traveling to the windswept highlands in early January on other matters. And in McIntyre, Scotland had a great champion.

Two years ago, McIntyre founded the Friends of Scotland Caucus. Its chief achievement was passing a resolution for a National Tartan Day (which is April 6).

On the evening of Jan. 10, McIntyre and other congressmen dined in Edinburgh with Scottish First Minister Alex Salmond. The first minister had heard the Library of Congress was changing its mind and restoring Burns, his vernacular poetry and the rest of Scottish literature to its rightful place. Could McIntyre persuade them to make it official?

Warrior wields weapon

So, in the manner of Scotland's medieval warriors, McIntyre drew his weapon: the telephone.

He called his office, which called the Library of Congress, which called the Scottish affairs office at the British Embassy. Memos were written, signatures scrawled, faxes sent -- all within hours.

Just as Robert the Bruce routed the English at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314, so McIntyre carried the day.

"The Library ... has decided to reinstate all the previously existing headings for Scottish literature and Scottish poetry," wrote James H. Billington, the librarian of Congress, in his letter to the National Library of Scotland.

In Edinburgh, they held a news conference the next day. The Times of London ran a front-page story.

The victory, McLean said, is perhaps the most tangible example yet of why Scotland needs friends on Capitol Hill.

Even McIntyre marveled.

"That's the quickest action of any caucus I've been involved in," he said.