The Scottish Chiefs Part 51

Wallace made no reply to this message, and proclaiming to his men that the enemy were in Dumfriesshire, every foot was put to the speed; and in a short time they arrived on the ridgy summits of the eastern mountains of Clydesdale. His troops halted for rest near the village of Biggar; and it being night, he ascended to the top of the highest craig, and lighted a fire, whose far-streaming light he hoped would send the news of his approach to Annandale. The air being calm and clear, the signal rose in such a long pyramid of flame, that distant shouts of rejoicing were heard breaking the deep silence of the hour.

A moment after a hundred answering beacons burned along the horizon.

Torthorald saw the propitious blaze; he showed it to his terrified followers. "Behold that hill of fire!" cried he, "and cease to despair." "Wallace comes!" was their response; "and we will do or die!"**

**The mountain from which this beacon sent its rays has from that hour been called Tinto or Tintoc (which signifies the Hill of Fire), and is yet regarded by the country people with a devotion almost idolatrous.

Its height is about 2,260 feet from the sea.

Day broke upon Wallace as he crossed the heights of Drumlaurig, and pouring his thousands over the almost deserted valleys of Annandale, like a torrent he swept the invaders back upon their steps. He took young Percy prisoner, and leaving him shut up in Lochmaben, drove his flying va.s.sals far beyond the borders.

Annandale again free, he went into its various quarters, and summoning the people (who now crept from their caves and woods, to shelter under his shield), he reproved them for their cowardice; and showed them, that unless every man possesses a courage equal to his general, he must expect to fall under the yoke of the enemy. "Faith in a leader is good," said he; "but not such a faith as leaves him to act, without yourselves rendering that a.s.sistance to your own preservation, which Heaven itself commands. When absent from you in person, I left my spirit with you in the brave Knights of Carlaveroch and Torthorald, and yet you fled. Had I been here, and you done the same, the like must have been the consequence. What think you is in my arm, that I should alone stem your enemies? The expectation is extravagant and false. I am but the head of the battle, you are the aims; if you shrink, I fall, and the cause is ruined. You follow my call to the field, you fight valiantly, and I win the day! Respect then yourselves; and believe that you are the sinews, the nerves, the strength of Sir William Wallace!"

Some looked manfully up at this exhortation; but most hung their heads in remembered shame, while he continued: "Dishonor not your fathers and your trust in G.o.d by relying on any one human arm, or doubting that from heaven. Be confident that while the standard of true liberty is before you, you fight under G.o.d's banner. See how I in that faith drove these conquering Northumbrians before me like frighted roes. You might, and must do the same, or the sword of Wallace is drawn in vain.

Partake my spirit, brethren of Annandale; fight as stoutly over my grave as by my side, or before the year expires you will again be the slaves of Edward."

Such language, while it covered the fugitives with confusion of face, awoke emulation in all to efface with honorable deeds the memory of their disgrace. With augmented forces he therefore marched into c.u.mberland; and having drawn up his array between a river and a high ground, which he covered with archers, he stood prepared to meet the approach of King Edward.

But Edward did not appear till late in the next day; and then the Scots descried his legions advancing from the horizon to pitch their vanguard on the plain of Stanmore. Wallace knew that for the first time he was now going to pit his soldiership against that of the greatest general in Christendom. But he did not shrink from measuring him arm to arm and mind to mind, for the a.s.surance of his cause was in both.

His present aim was to draw the English toward the Scottish lines, where, at certain distances, he had dug deep pits; and having covered them lightly with twigs and loose gra.s.s, left them as traps for the Southron cavalry; for in cavalry, he was told by his spies, would consist the chief strength of Edward's army. The waste in which Wallace had laid the adjoining counties, rendered the provisioning of so large a host difficult; and besides, as it was composed of a mixed mult.i.tude from every land on which the King of England had set his invading foot, harmony could not be expected to continue amongst its leaders. Delay was therefore an advantage to the Scottish regent; and observing that his enemy held back, as if he wished to draw him from his position, he determined not to stir, although he might seem to be struck with awe of so great an adversary.

To this end he offered him peace, hoping either to obtain what he asked (which he did not deem probable), or, by filling Edward with an idea of his fear, urge him to precipitate himself forward, to avoid the danger of a prolonged sojourn in so barren a country, and to take Wallace, as he might think, in his panic. Instructing his heralds what to say, he sent them on to Roycross, near which the tent of the King of England was pitched. Supposing that his enemy was now at his feet, and ready to beg the terms he had before objected, Edward admitted the emba.s.sadors, and bade them deliver their message. Without further parley the herald spoke.

"Thus saith Sir William Wallace. Were it not that the kings and n.o.bles of the realm of Scotland have ever asked redress of injuries before they sought revenge, you King of England, and invader of our country, should not now behold orators in your camp, persuading concord, but an army in battle array, advancing to the onset. Our lord regent being of the ancient opinion of his renowned predecessors, that the greatest victories are never of such advantage to a conqueror as an honorable and bloodless peace, sends to offer this peace to you at the price of rest.i.tution. The lives you have rifled from us you cannot restore, but the n.o.ble Lord Douglas, whom you now unjustly detain a prisoner, we demand; and that you retract those claims on our monarchy, which never had existence till ambition begot them on the basest treachery. Grant these just requisitions, and we lay down our arms; but continue to deny them, and our nations is ready to rise to a man, and with heart and hand avenge the injuries we have sustained. You have wasted our lands, burned our towns, and imprisoned our n.o.bility. Without consideration of age or condition, women, children, and feeble old men have unresisting fallen by your sword. And why was all this? Did our confidence in your honor offend you, that you put our chieftains in durance, and deprived our yeomanry of their lives? Did the benedictions with which our prelates hailed you as the arbitrator between our princes, raise your ire, that you burned their churches, and slew them on the altars? These, O king, were thy deeds, and for these William Wallace is in arms. But yield us the peace we ask--withdraw from our quarters--relinquish your unjust pretensions, and we shall once more consider Edward of England as the kinsman of Alexander the Third, and his subjects the friends and allies of our realm."

Not in the least moved by this address, Edward contemptuously answered, "Intoxicated by a transitory success, your leader is vain enough to suppose that he can discomfort the King of England, as he has done his unworthy officers, by fierce and insolent words; but we are not so weak as to be overthrown by a breath, nor so base as to bear argument from a rebel. I come to claim my own, to a.s.sert my supremacy over Scotland; and it shall acknowledge its liege lord, or be left a desert, without a living creature to say, 'This was a kingdom.' Depart, this is my answer to you; your leader shall receive his at the point of my lance."

Wallace, who did not expect a more favorable reply, ere his emba.s.sadors returned had marshaled his lines for the onset. Lord Bothwell, with Murray, his valiant son, took the lead on the left wing; Sir Eustace Maxwell and Kirkpatrick commanded on the right. Graham (in whose quick observation and prompt.i.tude to bring it to effect, Wallace placed the first confidence) held the reserve behind the woods; and the regent himself, with Edwin and his brave standard-bearer, occupied the center.

Having heard the report of his messengers, he repeated to his troops the lines, he exhorted them to remember that on that day the eyes of all Scotland would be upon them. They were the first of their country who had gone forth to meet the tyrant in a pitched battle; and in proportion to the danger they confronted, would be their meed of glory.

"But it is not for renown merely that you are called upon to fight this day," said he; "your rights, your homes are at stake. You have no hope of security for your lives but in an unswerving determination to keep the field, and let the world see how much more might lies in the arms of a few contending for their country and herediatry liberties, than in hosts which seek for blood and spoil. Slavery and freedom lie before you! Shrink but one backward step, and yourselves are in bondage, your wives become the prey of violence. Be firm--trust Him who blesses the righteous cause, and victory will crown your arms!"

Though affecting to despise his young opponent, Edward was too good a general really to condemn an enemy who had so often proved himself worthy of respect; and therefore, by declaring his determination to put all the Scottish chieftains to death, and to transfer their estates to his conquering officers, he stimulated their avarice, as well as love of fame, and with every pa.s.sion in arms, they pushed to the combat.

Wallace stood unmoved. Not a bow was drawn till the impetuous squadrons, in full charge toward the flanks of the Scots, fell into the pits; then it was that the Highland archers on the hill launched their arrows; the plunging horses were instantly overwhelmed by others who could not be checked in their career. New showers of darts rained upon them, and, sticking into their flesh, made them rear and roll upon their riders; while others, who were wounded, but had escaped the pits, flew back in rage of pain upon the advancing infantry. A confusion ensued, so perilous, that the king thought it necessary to precipitate himself forward, and in person attack the main body of his adversary, which yet stood inactive. Giving the spur to his charger, he ordered his troops to press on over the struggling heaps before them; and being obeyed, with much difficulty and great loss, he pa.s.sed the first range of pits; but a second and wider awaited him; and there, seeing his men sink into them by squadrons, he beheld the whole army of Wallace close in upon them. Terrific was now the havoc. The very numbers of the Southrons, and the mixed discipline of their army, proved its bane. In the tumult they hardly understood the orders which were given; and some mistaking them, acted so contrary to the intended movements, that Edward, galloping from one end of the field to the other, appeared like a frantic man, regardless of every personal danger, so that he could but fix others to front the same tempest of death with himself. His officers trembled at every step he took, for fear that some of the secret pits should ingulf him.

However, the unshrinking courage of their monarch rallied a part of the distracted army, which, with all the force of desperation, he drove against the center of the Scots. But at this juncture, the reserve under Graham, having turned the royal position, charged him in the rear; and the archers redoubling their discharge of artillery, the Flanderkins, who were in the van of Edward, suddenly giving way with cries of terror, the amazed king found himself obliged to retreat, or run the risk of being taken. He gave a signal--the first of the kind he had ever sounded in his life-and drawing his English troops around him, after much hard fighting, fell back in tolerable order beyond the confines of his camp.

The Scots were eager to pursue him, but Wallace checked the motion.

"Let us not hunt the lion till he stand at bay!" cried he. "He will retire far enough from the Scottish borders, without our leaving this vantage ground to drive him."

What Wallace said came to pa.s.s. Soon no vestige of a Southron soldier, but the dead which strewed the road, was to be seen from side to side of the wide horizon. The royal camp was immediately seized by the triumphant Scots; and the tent of King Edward, with its costly furniture, was sent to Stirling as a trophy of the victory.

Chapter L.

Stirling.

Many chieftains from the north had come to Stirling, to be near intelligence from the borders. They were aware that this meeting between Wallace and Edward must be the crisis of their fate. The few who remained in the citadel, of those who had borne the brunt of the opening of this glorious revolution for their country, were full of sanguine expectations. They had seen the prowess of their leader, they had shared the glory of his destiny, and they feared not that Edward would deprive him of one ray. But they who, at their utmost wilds of Highlands, had only heard his fame; though they had afterward seen him amongst themselves, transforming the mountain-savage into a civilized man and disciplined soldier; though they had felt the effects of his military successes; yet they doubted how his fortunes might stand the shock of Edward's happy star. The lords whom he had released from the Southron prisons were all of the same apprehensive opinion; for they knew what numbers Edward could bring against the Scottish power, and how hitherto unrivaled was his skill in the field. "Now," thought Lord Badenoch, "will this brave Scot find the difference between fighting with the officers of a king and a king himself, contending for what he determines shall be a part of his dominions!" Full of this idea, and resolving never to fall into the hands of Edward again (for the conduct of Wallace had made the earl ashamed of his long submission to the usurpation of rights to which he had a claim), he kept a vessel in readiness at the mouth of the Forth, to take him, as soon as the news of the regent's defeat should arrive, far from the sad consequences, to a quiet asylum in France.

The meditations of Athol, Buchan, and March, were of a different tendency. It was their design, on the earliest intimation of such intelligence, to set forth, and be the first to throw themselves at the feet of Edward, and acknowledge him their sovereign. Thus, with various projects in their heads (which none but the three last breathed to each other), were several hundred expecting chiefs a.s.sembled round the Earl of Mar; when Edwin Ruthven, glowing with all the effulgence of his general's glory, and his own, rushed into the hall; and throwing the royal standard of England on the ground, exclaimed, "There lies the supremacy of King Edward!"

Every man started to his feet. "You do not mean," cried Athol, "that King Edward has been beaten?"

"He has been beaten, and driven off the field!" returned Edwin. "These dispatches," added he, laying them on the table before his uncle, "will relate every particular. A hard battle our regent fought, for our enemies were numberless; but a thousand good angels were his allies, and Edward himself fled. I saw the king, after he had thrice rallied his troops and brought them to the charge, at last turn and fly. It was at that moment I wounded his standard-bearer, and seized this dragon."

"Thou art worthy of thy general, brave Ruthven!" cried Badenoch to Edwin. "James," added he, addressing his eldest son, who had just arrived from France, "what is left to us to show ourselves also of Scottish blood? Heaven has given him all!"

Lord Mar, who had stood in speechless grat.i.tude, opened the dispatches; and finding a circ.u.mstantial narrative of the battle, with accounts of the previous emba.s.sies, he read them aloud. Their contents excited a variety of emotions. When the n.o.bles heard that Edward had offered Wallace the crown; when they found that by vanquishing that powerful monarch, he had subdued even the soul of the man who had hitherto held them all in awe; though in the same breath, they read that their regent had refused royalty; and was now, as a servant of the people, preparing to strengthen their borders; yet the most extravagant suspicions awoke in almost every breast. The eagle flight of his glory, seemed to have raised him so far above their heads, so beyond their power to restrain or to elevate him, that an envy, dark as Erebus--a jealousy which at once annihilated every grateful sentiment, every personal regard--pa.s.sed like electricity from heart to heart. The eye, turning from one to the other, explained what no lip dared utter. A dead silence reigned, while the demon of hatred was taking possession of almost every beast; and none but the Lords Mar, Badenoch, and Loch-awe, escaped the black contagion.

When the meeting broke up, Lord Mar placed himself at the head of the officers of the garrison, and with a herald holding the banner of Edward beneath the colors of Scotland, rode forth to proclaim to the country the decisive victory of its regent. Badenoch and Loch-awe left the hall, to hasten with the tidings to Snawdoun. The rest of the chiefs dispersed. But as if actuated by one spirit, they were seen wandering about the outskirts of the town, where they soon drew together in groups, and whispered among themselves these and similar statements: "He refused the crown offered to him in the field by the people; he rejected it from Edward, because he would reign uncontrolled. He will now seize it as a conqueror, and we shall have an upstart's foot upon our necks. If we are to be slaves, let us have a tyrant of our own choosing."

As the trumpets before Lord Mar blew the loud acclaim of triumph, Athol said to Buchan, "Cousin, that is but the forerunner of what we shall hear to announce the usurpation of this Wallace. And shall we sit tamely by, and have our birthright wrested from us by a man of yesterday? No; if the race of Alexander be not to occupy the throne, let us not hesitate between the monarch of a mighty nation and a low-born tyrant, between him who will at least gild our chains with chivalric honors, and an upstart, whose domination must be as stern as debasing!"

Murmurings such as these, pa.s.sing from chief to chief, descended to the minor chieftains, who held lands in fee of those more sovereign lords.

Petty interests extinguished grat.i.tude for general benefits; and by secret meetings, at the heads of which were Athol, Buchan, and March, a conspiracy was formed to overset the power of Wallace. They were to invite Edward once more to take possession of the kingdom; and meanwhile, to accomplish this with certainty, each chief was to a.s.sume a pre-eminent zeal for the regent. March was to persuade Wallace to send him to Dunbar as governor of the Lothiaus, to hold the refractory Soulis in check; and to divide the public cares of Lord Dundaff; who, indeed, found Berwick a sufficient charge for his age and comparative inactivity. "Then," cried the false Cospatrick,** "when I am fixed at Dunbar, Edward may come round from Newcastle to that port; and, by your management, he must march unmolested to Stirling, and seize the usurper on his throne."

**The name by which Patrick Dunbar, Earl of March, was familiarly called.

Such suggestions met with full approval from these dark incendiaries; and as their meetings were usually held at night, they walked forth in the day with cheerful countenances, and joined the general rejoicing.

They feared to hint even a word of their intentions to Lord Badenoch; for, on Buchan having expressed some discontent to him, at the homage that was paid to a man so much their inferior, his answer was, "Had we acted worthy of our birth, Sir William Wallace never could have had the opportunity to rise upon our disgrace. But as it is, we must submit, or bow to treachery instead of virtue." This reply determined them to keep their proceedings secret from him, and also from Lady Mar; for both Lord Buchan and Lord Athol had, at different times, listened to the fond dreams of her love and ambition. They had flattered her with entering into her designs. Athol gloomily affected acquiescence, that he might render himself master of all that was in her mind, and, perhaps, in that of her lover; for he did not doubt that Wallace was as guilty as her wishes would have made him. And Buchan, ever ready to yield to the persuasions of woman, was not likely to refuse, when his fair cousin promised to reward him with all the pleasures of the gayest court in Europe. For, indeed, both lords had conceived, from the evident failing state of her veteran husband, in consequence of the unhealing condition of one of his wounds, that it might not be long before this visionary game would be thrown into her hands.

Thus were they situated, when the news of Wallace's decisive victory, distancing all their means to raise him who was now at the pinnacle of power, determined the dubious to become at once his mortal enemies.

Lord Badenoch had listened with a different temper to the first breathings of Lady Mar on her favorite subject. He told her, if the nation chose to make their benefactor king, he should not oppose it; because he thought that none of the blood royal deserved to wear the crown which they had all consented to hold in fee of Edward; yet he would never promote by intrigue an election which must rob his own posterity of their inheritance. But when she gave hints of her becoming one day the wife of Wallace, he turned on her with a frown.

"Cousin," said he, "beware how you allow so guilty an idea to take possession of your heart! It is the parent of dishonor and death. And did I think that Sir William Wallace were capable of sharing your wishes, I would be the first to abandon his standard. But I believe him too virtuous to look on a married woman with the eyes of pa.s.sion; and that he holds the houses of Mar and c.u.mmin in too high a respect to breathe an illicit sigh in the ear of my kinswoman."

Despairing of making the impression she desired on the mind of this severe relative, Lady Mar spoke to him no more on the subject. And Lord Badenoch, ignorant that she had imparted her criminal project to his brother and cousin, believed that his reproof had performed her cure. Thus flattering himself, he made no hesitations to be the first who should go to Snawdoun, to communicate to her the brilliant dispatches of the regent, and to declare the freedom of Scotland to be now almost secured. He and Lord Loch-awe set forth; but they had been some time preceded by Edwin.

The moment the countess heard the name of her nephew announced, she made a sign for her ladies to withdraw, and starting forward at his entrance, "Speak!" cried she; "tell me, Edwin, is the regent still a conqueror?"

"Where are my mother and Helen," replied he, "to share my tidings?"

"Then they are good!" exclaimed lady mar, with one of her bewitching smiles. "Ah! you sly one, like your chief, you know your power!"

"And like him I exercise it," replied he, gayly; "therefore, to keep your ladyship no longer in suspense, here is a letter from the regent himself." He presented it as he spoke, and she, catching it from him, turned round, and pressing it rapturously to her lips (it being the first she had ever received from him), eagerly ran over its brief contents. While reperusing it--for she could not tear her eyes from the beloved characters--Lady Ruthven and Helen entered the room. The former hastened forward, the latter trembled as she moved, for she did not yet know the information which her cousin brought. But the first glance of his face told her all was safe, and as he broke from his mother's embrace, to clasp Helen in his arms, she fell upon his neck, and, with a shower of tears, whispered, "Wallace lives? Is well?"

"As you would wish him," rewhispered he, "and with Edward at his feet."

"Thank G.o.d, thank G.o.d!"

While she spoke, Lady Ruthven exclaimed: "But how is our regent?

Speak, Edwin! How is the delight of all hearts?"

"Still the Lord of Scotland," answered he; "the invincible dictator of her enemies! The puissant Edward has acknowledged the power of Sir William Wallace, and after being beaten on the plain of Stanmore, is now making the best of his way toward his own capital."

Lady Mar again and again pressed the cold letter of Wallace to her burning bosom. "The regent does not mention these matters in his letter to me," said she, casting an exulting glance over the glowing face of Helen. But Helen did not notice it; she was listening to Edwin, who, with joyous animation, related every particular that had befallen Wallace from the time of his rejoining him to that very moment. The countess heard all with complacency, till he mentioned the issue of the conference with Edward's first emba.s.sadors. "Fool!"

exclaimed she to herself, "to throw away the golden opportunity, that may never return!" Not observing her disturbance, Edwin went on with his narrative; every word of which spread the eloquent countenance of Helen with admiration and joy.