But not all the statutes, nor public executions, nor the active

preaching of the Dominican friars, who undertook to convert them if

they were constrained to hear their sermons--the king's bailiffs, on

the petition of the friars, were ordered to induce the Jews to become

quiet, meek, and uncontentious hearers--could either alter the Jewish

character, still patient of all evil so that they could extort wealth,

or suppress the still increasing clamor of public detestation, which

demanded that the land should cast forth from its indignant bosom this

irreclaimable race of rapacious infidels. Still worse, if we may trust

a papal bull, the presence and intercourse of the Jews were dangerous

to the religion of England. In the year 1286 the Pope (Honorius IV)

addressed a bull to the Archbishop of Canterbury and his suffragans,

rebuking them for the remissness of the clergy in not watching more

closely the proceedings of the Jews. The Archbishop, indeed, had not

been altogether so neglectful in the duty of persecution. The number

and the splendor of the synagogues in London had moved the

indignation, perhaps the jealousy, of Primate Peckham. He issued his

monition to the Bishop of London to inhibit the building any more of

these offensively sumptuous edifices, and to compel the Jews to

destroy those built within a prescribed time.

The zeal of the Bishop of London (Robert de Gravesend) outran that of

the Archbishop; he ordered them all to be levelled to the ground. The

Archbishop, prevailed on by the urgent supplications of the Jews,

graciously informed the Bishop that he might conscientiously allow one

synagogue, if that synagogue did not wound the eyes of pious

Christians by its magnificence.

But the bull of Honorius IV was something more than a stern

condemnation of the usurious and extortionate practices of the Jews;

it was a complaint of their progress, not merely in inducing Jewish

converts to Christianity to apostatize back to Judaism, but of their

not unsuccessful endeavors to tempt Christians to Judaism. "These Jews

lure them to their synagogues on the Sabbath--are we to suppose that

there was something splendid and attractive in the synagogue worship

of the day?--and in their friendly intercourse at common banquets, the

souls of Christians, softened by wine and good eating and social

enjoyment, are endangered." The _Talmud_ of the Jews, which they still

persist in studying, is especially denounced as full of abomination,

falsehood, and infidelity.

The King at length listened to the public voice, and the irrevocable

edict of total expulsion from the realm was issued. Their whole

property was seized at once, and just money enough left to discharge

their expenses[86] to foreign lands, perhaps equally inhospitable. The

10th of October was the fatal day. The King benignantly allowed them

till All Saints' Day; after which all who delayed were to be hanged

without mercy. The King, in the execution of this barbarous

proceeding, put on the appearance both of religion and moderation.

Safe-conducts were to be granted to the sea-shore from all parts of

the kingdom. The wardens of the Cinque Ports were to provide shipping

and receive the exiles with civility and kindness. The King expressed

his intention of converting great part of his gains to pious uses, but

the Church looked in vain for the fulfilment of his vows.

He issued orders that the Jews should be treated with kindness and

courtesy on their journey to the sea-shore.

But where the Prince by his laws thus gave countenance to the worst

passions of human nature, it was not likely that they would be

suppressed by his proclamations. The Jews were pursued from the

kingdom with every mark of popular triumph in their sufferings; one

man, indeed, the master of a vessel at Queenborough, was punished for

leaving a considerable number on the shore at the mouth of the river,

when, as they prayed to him to rescue them from their perilous

situation, he answered that they had better call on Moses, who had

made them pass safe through the Red Sea, and, sailing away with their

remaining property, left them to their fate. The number of exiles is

variously estimated at fifteen thousand and sixty and sixteen thousand

five hundred and eleven; all their property, debts, obligations,

mortgages, escheated to the King.

Yet some, even in those days, presumed to doubt whether the nation

gained by the act of expulsion, and even ventured to assert that the

public burdens on the Christians only became heavier and more

intolerable. Catholics suffered in the place of the enemies of the

Cross of Christ. The loss to the Crown was enormous.[87] The convents

made themselves masters of the valuable libraries of the Jews, one at

Stamford, another at Oxford, from which the celebrated Roger Bacon is

said to have derived great information; and long after, the common

people would dig in the places they had frequented, in hopes of

finding buried treasure.

EXPLOITS AND DEATH OF WILLIAM WALLACE, THE "HERO OF SCOTLAND"

A.D. 1297-1305

SIR WALTER SCOTT

When the granddaughter and sole heiress of King Alexander

III of Scotland was betrothed, in her sixth year, 1288, to

the son of Edward I of England, an early union of the

English and Scottish crowns seemed assured. But the death of

the little princess, two years later, left the throne of

Scotland vacant, and was followed by the rise of thirteen

claimants, three of whom were entitled to serious

regard--John de Baliol, Lord of Galloway; Robert Bruce, Lord

of Annandale; and John Hastings, Lord of Abergavenny, all

descended from David, brother of William the Lion, King of

Scotland, 1165-1214.

Edward I of England at once assumed all the rights of a

feudal suzerain until the disputed claims should be settled.

Finally the claim of Baliol was recognized, he did homage to

Edward for his services to the realm of Scotland, and for a

time peace prevailed. But when Edward called upon the

Scottish nobles to serve in his foreign wars, and made other

demands implying the dependence of Scotland, the resentment

of Baliol's subjects forced him into an attitude of war. In

1295 he made an alliance against Edward with Philip the Fair

of France. In 1296 Edward invaded Scotland, took Berwick and

slaughtered eight thousand of its citizens; defeated the

Scots at Dunbar; occupied Edinburgh, Stirling, and Perth;

compelled Baliol to surrender, and sent him to the Tower of

London. Edward then made Scotland a dependency of his crown.

This submission was not the act of the people, but of their

leaders. "The Scots assembled in troops and companies, and

betaking themselves to the woods, mountains, and morasses,

prepared for a general insurrection against the English

power."

They found their leader in the outlawed knight, William

Wallace. Wallace was born about 1274. Popular tradition,

which "delights to dwell upon the beloved champion of the

people," has invested him with many striking qualities,

ascribing to him a gigantic stature and enormous strength,

as well as extraordinary courage. Little, if anything, is

really known of his personality and private life; while all

that belongs to history concerning him is told by his

celebrated and admiring fellow-countryman, Sir Walter Scott,

in the following narrative.

Wallace is believed to have been proclaimed an outlaw for the

slaughter of an Englishman in a casual fray. He retreated to the

woods, collected around him a band of men as desperate as himself, and

obtained several successes in skirmishes with the English. Joined by

Sir William Douglas, who had been taken at the siege of Berwick, but

had been discharged upon ransom, the insurgents compelled Edward to

send an army against them, under the Earl of Surrey, the victor of

Dunbar. Several of the nobility, moved by Douglas' example, had joined

Wallace's standard, but overawed at the approach of the English army,

and displeased to act under a man, like Wallace, of comparatively

obscure birth, they capitulated with Sir Henry Percy, the nephew of

Surrey, and in one word changed sides.

Wallace kept the field at the head of a considerable army, partly

consisting of his own experienced followers, partly of the smaller

barons or crown tenants, and partly of vassals even of the apostate

lords, and volunteers of every condition. By the exertion of much

conduct and resolution, Wallace had made himself master of the country

beyond Forth, and taken several castles, when he was summoned to

Stirling to oppose Surrey, the English Governor of Scotland. Wallace

encamped on the northern side of the river, leaving Stirling bridge

apparently open to the English, but resolving, as it was long and

narrow, to attack them while in the act of crossing. The Earl of

Surrey led fifty thousand infantry and a thousand men-at-arms. Part of

his soldiers, however, were the Scottish barons who had formerly

joined Wallace's standard, and who, notwithstanding their return to

that of Surrey, were scarcely to be trusted.

The English treasurer, Cressingham, murmured at the expense attending

the war, and, to bring it to a crisis, proposed to commence an attack

the next morning by crossing the river. Surrey, an experienced

warrior, hesitated to engage his troops in the defile of a wooden

bridge, where scarce two horsemen could ride abreast; but, urged by

the imprudent vehemence of Cressingham, he advanced, contrary to

common-sense as well as to his own judgment. The vanguard of the

English was attacked before they could get into order; the bridge was

broken down, and thousands perished in the river and by the sword.

Cressingham was slain, and Surrey fled to Berwick to recount to Edward

that Scotland was lost at Stirling in as short a time as it had been

won at Dunbar. In a brief period after this victory, almost all the

fortresses of the kingdom surrendered to Wallace.

Increasing his forces, Wallace, that he might gratify them with

plunder, led them across the English border, and sweeping it

lengthwise from Newcastle to the gates of Carlisle, left nothing

behind him but blood and ashes. The nature of Wallace was fierce, but

not inaccessible to pity or remorse. As his unruly soldiers pillaged

the church of Hexham, he took the canons under his immediate

protection. "Abide with me," he said, "holy men, for my people are

evil-doers, and I may not correct them." When he returned from this

successful foray, an assembly of the states was held at the Forest

Church in Selkirkshire, where Wallace was chosen guardian of the

kingdom of Scotland. The meeting was attended by Lennox, Sir William

Douglas, and some few men of rank: others were absent from fear of

King Edward, or from jealousy of an inferior person, like Wallace,

raised to so high a station.

Conscious of the interest which he had deservedly maintained in the

breast of the universal people of Scotland, Wallace pursued his

judicious plans of enforcing general levies through the kingdom and

bringing them under discipline. It was full time, for Edward was

moving against them. The English monarch was absent in Flanders when

these events took place, and, what was still more inconvenient, before

he could gain supplies from his parliament to suppress the Scottish

revolt, Edward found himself obliged to confirm Magna Charta, the

charter of the forest, and other stipulations in favor of the people;

the English being prudent, though somewhat selfishly disposed to

secure their own freedom before they would lend their swords to

destroy that of their neighbors.

Complying with these demands, Edward, on his return from the Low

Countries, found himself at the head of a gallant muster of all the

English chivalry, forming by far the most superb army that had ever

entered Scotland. Wallace acted with great sagacity, and, according to

a plan which often before and after proved successful in Scottish

warfare, laid waste the intermediate country between Stirling and the

frontiers, and withdrew toward the centre of the kingdom to receive

the English attack, when their army should be exhausted by privation.

Edward pressed on, with characteristic hardihood and resolution. Tower

and town fell before him; but his advance was not without such

inconvenience and danger as a less determined monarch would have

esteemed a good apology for retreat. His army suffered from want of

provisions, which were at length supplied in small quantities by some

of his ships. As the English King lay at Kirkliston, in West Lothian,

a tumult broke out between the Welsh and English in his army, which,

after costing some blood, was quelled with difficulty. While Edward

hesitated whether to advance or retreat, he learned, through the

treachery of two apostate Scottish nobles, the earls of Dunbar and

Angus, that Wallace, with the Scottish army, had approached so near as

Falkirk.

This advance was doubtless made with the purpose of annoying the

expected retreat of the English. Edward, thus apprised that the Scots

were in his vicinity, determined to compel them to action. He broke up

his camp, and, advancing with caution, slept the next night in the

fields along with the soldiers. But the casualties of the campaign

were not yet exhausted. His war-horse, which was picketed beside him,

like that of an ordinary man-at-arms, struck the King with his foot

and hurt him in the side. A tumult arose in the camp, but Edward,

regardless of pain, appeased it by mounting his horse, riding through

the cantonments, and showing the soldiers that he was in safety.

Next morning, July 22, 1298, the armies met. The Scottish infantry

were drawn up on a moor, with a morass in front. They were divided

into four phalanxes or dense masses, with lances lowered obliquely

over each other, and seeming, says an English historian, like a castle

walled with steel. These spearmen were the flower of the army, in whom

Wallace chiefly confided. He commanded them in person, and used the

brief exhortation, "I have brought you to the ring; dance as you best

can."

The Scottish archers, under the command of Sir John Stewart, brother

of the Steward of Scotland, were drawn up in the intervals between the

masses of infantry. They were chiefly brought from the wooded district

of Selkirk. We hear of no Highland bowmen among them. The cavalry,

which amounted to only one thousand men-at-arms, held the rear.

The English cavalry began the action. The Marshal of England led half

of the men-at-arms straight upon the Scottish front, but in doing so

involved them in the morass. The Bishop of Durham, who commanded the

other division of the English cavalry, was wheeling round the morass

on the east, and, perceiving this misfortune, became disposed to wait

for support. "To mass, Bishop!" said Ralph Basset of Drayton, and

charged with the whole body. The Scottish men-at-arms went off without

couching their lances; but the infantry stood their ground firmly. In

the turmoil that followed, Sir John Stewart fell from his horse and

was slain among the archers of Ettrick, who died in defending or

avenging him.

The close bodies of Scottish spearmen, now exposed without means of

defence or retaliation, were shaken by the constant showers of arrows;

and the English men-at-arms finally charging them desperately while

they were in disorder, broke and dispersed these formidable masses.

The Scots were then completely routed, and it was only the neighboring

woods which saved a remnant from the sword. The body of Stewart was

found among those of his faithful archers, who were distinguished by

their stature and fair complexions from all others with which the

field was loaded. Macduff and Sir John the Grahame, "the hardy wight

and wise," still fondly remembered as the bosom friend of Sir William

Wallace, were slain in the same disastrous action.

Popular report states this battle to have been lost by treachery; and

the communication between the earls of Dunbar and Angus and King

Edward, as well as the disgraceful flight of the Scottish cavalry

without a single blow, corroborates the suspicion. But the great

superiority of the English in archery may account for the loss of this

as of many another battle on the part of the Scots. The bowmen of

Ettrick Forest were faithful; but they could only be few. So nearly

had Wallace's scheme for the campaign been successful, that Edward,

even after having gained this great battle, returned to England, and

deferred reaping the harvest of his conquest till the following

season. If he had not been able to bring the Scottish army to action,

his retreat must have been made with discredit and loss, and Scotland

must have been left in the power of the patriots.

The slaughter and disgrace of the battle of Falkirk might have been

repaired in other respects, but it cost the Scottish kingdom an

irredeemable loss in the public services of Wallace. He resigned the

guardianship of the kingdom, unable to discharge its duties, amid the

calumnies with which faction and envy aggravated his defeat. The

Bishop of St. Andrew's, Bruce, Earl of Carrick, and Sir John Comyn

were chosen guardians of Scotland, which they administered in the name

of Baliol. In the mean time that unfortunate Prince was, in compassion

or scorn, delivered up to the Pope by Edward, and a receipt was

gravely taken for his person from the nuncio then in France. This led

to the entrance of a new competitor for the Scottish kingdom.

The Pontiff of Rome had been long endeavoring to establish a claim, to

whatsoever should be therein found, to which a distinct and specific

right of property could not be ascertained. The Pontiff's claim to the

custody of the dethroned King being readily admitted, Boniface VIII

was encouraged to publish a bull claiming Scotland as a dependency on

the see of Rome because the country had been converted to Christianity

by the relics of St. Andrew.

The Pope, in the same document, took the claim of Edward to the

Scottish crown under his own discussion, and authoritatively commanded

Edward I to send proctors to Rome to plead his cause before his

holiness. This magisterial requisition was presented by the Archbishop

of Canterbury to the King, in the presence of the council and court,

the prelate at the same time warning the sovereign to yield unreserved

obedience, since Jerusalem would not fail to protect her citizens, and

Mount Zion her worshippers. "Neither for Zion nor Jerusalem," said

Edward, in towering wrath, "will I depart from my just rights while

there is breath in my nostrils."

Accordingly he caused the Pope's bull to be laid before the Parliament

of England, who unanimously resolved "that in temporals the King of

England was independent of Rome, and that they would not permit his

sovereignty to be questioned." Their declaration concludes with these

remarkable words: "We neither do, will, nor can permit our sovereign

to do anything to the detriment of the constitution, which we are both

sworn to and are determined to maintain"--a spirited assertion of

national right, had it not been in so bad a cause as that of Edward's

claim of usurpation over Scotland.

Meantime the war languished during this strange discussion, from which

the Pope was soon obliged to retreat. There was an inefficient

campaign in 1299 and 1300. In 1301 there was a truce, in which

Scotland as well as France was included. After the expiry of this

breathing space, Edward I, in the spring of 1302, sent an army into

Scotland of twenty thousand men, under Sir John Seward, a renowned

general. He marched toward Edinburgh in three divisions, leaving large

intervals between each.

While in this careless order, Seward's vanguard found themselves

suddenly within reach of a small but chosen body of troops, amounting

to eight thousand men, commanded by Sir John Comyn, the guardian, and

a gallant Scottish knight, Sir Simon Fraser. Seward was defeated, but

the battle was scarce over when his second division came up. The

Scots, flushed with victory, reestablished their ranks, and having

cruelly put to death their prisoners, attacked and defeated the second

body also. The third division came up in the same manner. Again it

became necessary to kill the captives, and to prepare for a third

encounter. The Scottish leaders did so without hesitation, and their

followers, having thrown themselves furiously on the enemy,

discomfited that division likewise, and gained--as their historians

boast--three battles in one day.

But the period seemed to be approaching in which neither courage nor

exertion could longer avail the unfortunate people of Scotland. A

peace with France, in which Philip the Fair totally omitted all

stipulations in favor of his allies, left the kingdom to its own

inadequate means of resistance, while Edward directed his whole force

against it. The castle of Brechin, under the gallant Sir Thomas Maule,

made an obstinate resistance. He was mortally wounded and died in an

exclamation of rage against the soldiers, who asked if they might not

then surrender the castle. Edward wintered at Dunfermline, and began

the next campaign with the siege of Stirling, the only fortress in the

kingdom that still held out. But the courage of the guardians

altogether gave way; they set the example of submission, and such of

them as had been most obstinate in what the English King called

rebellion, were punished by various degrees of fine and banishment.

With respect to Sir William Wallace, it was agreed that he might have

the choice of surrendering himself unconditionally to the King's

pleasure, provided he thought proper to do so; a stipulation which, as

it signified nothing in favor of the person for whom it was apparently

conceived, must be imputed as a pretext on the part of the Scottish

nobles to save themselves from the disgrace of having left Wallace

altogether unthought of. Some attempts were made to ascertain what

sort of accommodation Edward was likely to enter into with the bravest

and most constant of his enemies; but the demands of Wallace were

large, and the generosity of Edward very small. The English King broke

off the treaty, and put a price of three hundred marks on the head of

the patriot.

Meantime Stirling castle continued to be defended by a slender

garrison, and, deprived of all hopes of relief, continued to make a

desperate defence, under its brave governor, Sir William Olifaunt,

until famine and despair compelled him to an unconditional surrender,

when the King imposed the harshest terms on this handful of brave men.

But what Edward prized more than the surrender of the last fortress

which resisted his arms in Scotland was the captivity of her last

patriot. He had found in a Scottish nobleman, Sir John Monteith, a

person willing to become his agent in searching for Wallace among the

wilds where he was driven to find refuge. Wallace was finally betrayed

to the English by his unworthy and apostate countryman, who obtained

an opportunity of seizing him at Robroyston, near Glasgow, by the

treachery of a servant.

Sir William Wallace was instantly transferred to London, where he was

brought to trial in Westminster Hall, with as much apparatus of infamy

as the ingenuity of his enemies could devise. He was crowned with a

garland of oak, to intimate that he had been king of outlaws. The

arraignment charged him with high treason, in respect that he had

stormed and taken towns and castles, and shed much blood. "Traitor,"

said Wallace, "was I never." The rest of the charges he confessed and

proceeded to justify them. He was condemned, and executed by

decapitation, 1305. His head was placed on a pinnacle on London

bridge, and his quarters were distributed over the kingdom.

Thus died this courageous patriot, leaving a remembrance which will be

immortal in the hearts of his countrymen. This steady champion of

independence having been removed, and a bloody example held out to all

who should venture to tread in his footsteps, Edward proceeded to form

a species of constitution for the country, which, at the cost of so

much labor, policy, and bloodshed, he had at length, as he conceived,

united forever with the English crown.

The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 06 (From Barbarossa to Dante) · 第 35 / 38 段