The State Prison.
The regent's re-entrance into the citadel of Stirling, being on the
evening preceding the day he had promised should see the English lords
depart for their country, De Warenne, as a mark of respect to a man
whom he could not but regard with admiration, went to the barbican-gate
to bid him welcome.
Wallace appeared; and as the cavalcade of noble Southrons who had
lately commanded beyond the Tay, followed him, Murray glanced his eye
around, and said with a smile to De Warenne, "You see, sir earl, how we
Scots keep our word!" and then he added, "you leave Stirling to-morrow,
but these remain till Lord Douglas opens their prison-doors."
"I cannot but acquiesce in the justice of your commander's
determination," returned De Warenne, "and to comfort these gentlemen
under their captivity, I can only tell them that if anything can
reconcile them to the loss of liberty, it is being the prisoners of Sir
William Wallace."
After having transferred his captives to the charge of Lord Mar,
Wallace went alone to the chamber of Montgomery, to see whether the
state of his wounds would allow him to march on the morrow. While he
was yet there, an invitation arrived from the Countess of Mar,
requesting his presence at an entertainment which, by her husband's
consent, she meant to give that night at Snawdoun, to the Southron
lords before their departure for England.
"I fear you dare not expend your strength on this party?" inquired
Wallace, turning to Montgomery.
"Certainly not," returned he; "but I shall see you amidst your noble
friends, at some future period. When the peace your arms must win, is
established between the two nations, I shall then revisit Scotland; and
openly declare my friendship for Sir William Wallace."
"As these are your sentiments," replied Wallace, "I shall hope that you
will unite your influence with that of the brave Earl of Gloucester, to
persuade your king to stop this bloodshed; for it is no vain boast to
declare, that he may bury Scotland beneath her slaughtered sons, but
they never will again consent to acknowledge any right in an usurper."
"Sanguinary have been the instruments of my sovereign's rule in
Scotland," replied Montgomery; "but such cruelty is foreign to his
gallant heart; and without offending that high-souled patriotism, which
would make me revere its possessor, were he the lowliest man in your
legions, allow me, noblest of Scots, to plead one word in vindication
of him to whom my allegiance is pledged. Had he come hither, conducted
by war alone, what would Edward have been worse than any other
conqueror? But on the reverse, was not his right to the supremacy of
Scotland acknowledged by the princes who contended for the crown? And
besides, did not all the great lords swear fealty to England, on the
day he nominated their king?"
"Had you not been under these impressions, brave Montgomery, I believe
I never should have seen you in arms against Scotland; but I will
remove them by a simple answer. All the princes whom you speak of,
excepting Bruce of Annandale, did assent to the newly offered claim of
Edward on Scotland; but who, amongst them, had any probable chance for
the throne, but Bruce or Baliol? Such ready acquiescence was meant to
create them one. Bruce, conscious of his inherent rights, rejected the
iniquitous demand of Edward; Baliol accorded with it, and was made
king. All our chiefs who were base enough to worship the rising sun,
and, I may say, condemn the God of truth, swore to the falsehood.
Others remained gloomily silent; and the bravest of them retired to the
Highlands, where they dwell amongst their mountains, till the cries of
Scotland called them again to fight her battles.
"Thus did Edward establish himself as the liege lord of this kingdom;
and whether the oppresion which followed were his or his agents'
immediate acts, it matters not, for he made them his own by his
after-conduct. When remonstrances were sent to London, he neither
punished nor reprimanded the delinquents, but marched an armed force
into our country, to compel us to be trampled on. It was not an
Alexander nor a Charlemagne, coming in his strength to subdue ancient
enemies, or to aggrandize his name, by vanquishing nations far remote,
with whom he could have no affinity! Terrible as such ambition was, it
is innocence to what Edward has done. He came, in the first instance,
to Scotland as a friend; the nation committed its dearest interests to
his virtue; they put their hands into his and he bound them in
shackles. Was this honor? Was this the right of conquest? The cheek
of Alexander would have blushed deep as his Tyrian robe; and the face
of Charlemagne turned pale as the lilies, at the bare suspicion of
being capable of such a deed.
"No, Lord Montgomery, it is not our conqueror we are opposing; it is a
traitor, who, under the mask of friendship, has attempted to usurp our
rights, destroy our liberties, and make a desert of our once happy
country. This is the true statement of the case, and though I wish not
to make a subject outrage his sovereign, yet truth demands of you to
say to Edward, that to withdraw his pretensions from this exhausted
country, is the restitution we may justly claim--is all that we wish.
Let him leave us in peace, and we shall no longer make war upon him.
But if he persist (which the ambassadors from the Prince of Wales
announce), even as Samson drew the temple upon himself, to destroy his
enemies, Scotland will discharge itself upon the valleys of England;
and there compel them to share the fate in which we may be doomed to
perish."
"I will think of this discourse," returned Montgomery, "when I am far
distant; and rely on it, noble Wallace that I will assert the privilege
of my birth, and counsel my king as becomes an honest man."
"Highly would he estimate such counsel," cried Wallace, "had he virtue
to feel that he who will be just to his sovereign's enemies must be of
an honor that will bind him with double fidelity to his king. Such
proof give your sovereign; and, if he have one spark of that greatness
of mind which you say he possesses, though he may not adopt your
advice, he must respect the adviser."
As Wallace pressed the hand of his new friend, to leave him to repose,
a messenger entered from Lord Mar, to request the regent's presence in
his closet. He found him with Lord de Warenne. The latter presented
him with another dispatch from the Prince of Wales. It was to say,
that news had reached him of Wallace's design to attack the castles
garrisoned by England, on the eastern coast. Should this information
prove true, he (the prince) declared that, as a punishment for such
increasing audacity, he would put Lord Douglas into closer confinement;
and while the Southron fleets would inevitably baffle Wallace's
attempts, the moment the exchange of prisoners was completed on the
borders, an army from England should enter Scotland, and ravage it with
fire and sword.
When Wallace had heard this dispatch, he smile and said, "The deed is
done, my Lord de Warenne. Both the castles and the fleets are taken;
and what punishment must we now expect from this terrible threatener?"
"Little from him, or his headlong counselors," replied De Warenne; "but
Thomas Earl of Lancaster, the king's nephew, is come from abroad with a
numerous army. He is to conduct the Scottish prisoners to the borders,
and then to fall upon Scotland with all his strength, unless you
previously surrender, not only Berwick, but Stirling, and the whole of
the district between the Forth and the Tweed, into his hands."
"My Lord de Warenne," replied Wallace, "you can expect but one return
to these absurd demands. I shall accompany you myself to the Scottish
borders, and there made my reply."
De Warenne, who did indeed look for this answer, replied, "I
anticipated that such would be your determination, and I have to regret
that the wild counsels which surround my prince, precipitate him into
conduct which must draw much blood on both sides, before his royal
father's presence can regain what he has lost."
"Ah, my lord," replied Wallace, "is it to be nothing but war? Have you
now a stronghold of any force in all the Highlands? Is not the greater
part of the Lowlands free? And before this day month, not a rood of
land in Scotland is likely to hold a Southron soldier. We conquer, but
it is for our own. Why then this unreceding determination to invade
us? Not a blade of grass would I disturb on the other side of the
Cheviot, if we might have peace. Let Edward yield to that, and though
he has pierced us with many wounds, we will yet forgive him."
De Warenne shook his head; "I know my king too well to expect pacific
measures. He may die with the sword in his hand; but he will never
grant an hour's repose to this country till it submits to his scepter."
"Then," replied Wallace, "the sword must be the portion of him and his!
Ruthless tyrant! If the blood of Abel called for vengeance on his
murderer, what must be the vials of wrath which are reserved for thee?"
A flush overspread the face of De Warenne at this apostrophe; and
forcing a smile, "The strict notion of right," said he, "is very well
in declamation, but how would it crop the wings of conquerors, and
shorten the warrior's arm, did they measure by this rule!"
"How would it, indeed!" replied Wallace; "and that they should is most
devoutly to be wished. All warfare that is not defensive is criminal;
and he who draws his sword to oppress, or merely to aggrandize, is a
murderer and a robber. This is the plain truth, Lord de Warenne."
"I have never considered it in that light," returned the earl, "nor
shall I turn philosopher now. I revere your principle, Sir William
Wallace; but it is too sublime to be mine. Nay, nor would it be
politic for one who holds his possessions in England by the right of
conquest to question the virtue of the deed. By the sword my ancestors
gained their estates; and with the sword I have no objection to extend
my territories."
Wallace now saw that De Warenne, though a man of honor, was not one of
virtue. Though his amiable nature made him gracious in the midst of
hostility, and his good dispositions would not allow him to act
disgracefull in any concern, yet duty to God seemed a poet's flight to
him. Educated in the forms of religion, without knowing its spirit, he
despised them; and believing the Deity too wise to be affected by mere
virtuous shows of any kind, his ignorance of the sublime benevolence,
which disdains not to provide food even for the "sparrow ere it falls,"
made him think the Creator of all too great to care about the actions
of men; hence, being without the true principles of good-virtue, as
virtue, was nonsense to Earl de Warenne.
Wallace did not answer his remark, and the conference soon closed.