Part 78 (1/2)
”Tell your sovereign,” cried he, ”that he mistakes. We are the conquerors who ought to dictate terms of peace! Wallace is our invincible leader, our redeemer from slavery, the earthly hope in whom we trust, and it is not in the power of men nor devils to bribe us to betray our benefactor. Away to your king and tell him that Andrew Murray, and every honest Scot, is ready to live or to die by the side of Sir William Wallace.”
”And by this good sword I swear the same!” cried Ruthven.
”And so do I!” rejoined Scrymgeour, ”or may the standard of Scotland be my winding-sheet!”
”Or may the Clyde swallow us up, quick!” exclaimed Lockhart of Lee, shaking his mailed hand at the emba.s.sadors.
But not another chief spoke for Wallace. Even Sinclair was intimidated, and like others who wished him well, he feared to utter his sentiments. But most, oh! shame to Scotland and to man, cast up their bonnets and cried aloud, ”Long live Kind Edward, the only legitimate Lord of Scotland!” At this outcry, which was echoed even by some in whom he had confided, while it pealed around him like a burst of thunder, Wallace threw out his arms, as if he would yet protect Scotland from herself. ”Oh! desolate people,” exclaimed he, in a voice of piercing woe, ”too credulous of fair speeches, and not aware of the calamities which are coming upon you! Call to remembrance the miseries you have suffered, and start, before it be too late, from this last snare of your oppressor! Have I yet to tell ye that his embrace is death? Oh! look yet to Heaven and ye shall find a rescue!” Bruce seemed to rise at that moment in pale but gallant apparition before his soul.**
**This speech is almost verbatim from one of our old historians.
”Seize that rebellious man,” cried Soulis to his marshals. ”In the name of the King of England I command you.”
”And in the name of the King of kings I denounce death on him who attempts it!” exclaimed Bothwell, throwing himself between Wallace and the men; ”put forth a hostile hand toward him, and this bugle shall call a thousand resolute swords to lay this platform in blood!”
Soulis, followed by his knights, pressed forward to execute his treason himself. Scrymgeour, Ruthven, Lockhart, and Ker rushed before their friend. Edwin, starting forward, drew his sword, and the clash of steel was heard. Bothwell and Soulis grappled together, the falchion of Ruthven gleamed amidst a hundred swords, and blood flowed around.
The voice, the arm of Wallace, in vain sought to enforce peace; he was not heard, he was not felt in the dreadful warfare; Ker fell with a gasp at his feet, and breathed no more. At such a sight the soul-struck Wallace wrung his hands, and exclaimed in bitter anguish, ”Oh, my country! was it for these horrors that my Marion died? that I became a homeless wretch, and pa.s.sed my days and nights in fields of carnage? Venerable Mar, dear and valiant Graham! is this the consummation for which you fell?” At that moment Bothwell having disabled Soulis, would have blown his bugle to call up his men to a general conflict, but Wallace s.n.a.t.c.hed the horn from his hand, and springing upon the very war-carriage which Le de Spencer had proclaimed Edward's emba.s.sy, he drew forth his sword, and stretching the mighty arm that held it over the throng, with more than mortal energy he exclaimed, ”Peace! men of Scotland, and for the last time hear the voice of William Wallace.” A dead silence immediately ensued, and he proceeded: ”If you have aught of n.o.bleness within ye, if a delusion more fell than witchcraft have not blinded your senses, look beyond this field of horror, and behold your country free. Edward, in these apparent demands, sues for peace. Did we not drive his armies into the sea? And were we resolved, he never could cross our borders more.
What is it then you do, when you again put your necks under his yoke?
Did he not seek to bribe me to betray you? And yet, when I refuse to purchase life and the world's rewards in such baseness, you--you forget that you are free-born Scots, that you are the victors, and he the vanquished; and you give, not sell, your birthright to the demands of a tyrant! You yield yourselves to his extortions, his oppressions, his revenge! Think not he will spare the people he would have sold to purchase his bitterest enemy, or allow them to live unmanacled who possess the power of resistance. On the day in which you are in his hands you will feel that you have exchanged honor for disgrace, liberty for bondage, life for death! Me you abhor, and may G.o.d in your extremest hour forget that injustice, and pardon the faithful blood you have shed this day! I draw this sword for you no more. But there yet lives a prince, a descendant of the royal heroes of Scotland, whom Providence may conduct to be your preserver. Reject the proposals of Edward, dare to defend the freedom you now possess, and that prince will soon appear to crown your patriotism with glory and happiness!”
”We acknowledge no prince but King Edward of England!” cried Buchan.
”His countenance our glory, his presence our happiness!”
The exclamation was reiterated by a most disgraceful majority on the ground. Wallace was transfixed.
”Then,” cried Le de Spencer in the first pause of the tumult, ”to every man, woman, and child throughout the realm of Scotland, excepting Sir William Wallace, I proclaim, in the name of King Edward, pardon and peace.”
At these words several hundred Scottish chieftains dropped on their knees before Le de Spencer, and murmured their vows of fealty.
Indignant, grieved, Wallace took his helmet from his head, and throwing his sword into the hand of Bothwell, ”That weapon,” cried he, ”which I wrested from this very King Edward, and with which I twice drove him from our borders, I give it to you. In your hands it may again serve Scotland, I relinquish a soldier's name, on the spot where I humbled England three times in one day, where I now see my victorious country deliver herself, bound, into the grasp of the vanquished! I go without sword or buckler from this dishonored field, and what Scot, my public or private enemy, will dare to strike the unguarded head of William Wallace?” As he spoke, he threw his s.h.i.+eld and helmet to the ground, and leaping from the war-carriage, took his course, with a fearless and dignified step, through the parting ranks of his enemies, who, awe-struck, or kept in check by a suspicion that others might not second the attack they would have made on him, durst not lift an arm or breathe a word as he pa.s.sed.
Wallace had adopted this manner of leaving the ground, in hopes, if it were possible, to awaken the least spark of honor in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of his persecutors, to prevent the bloodshed which must ensue between his friends and them, should they attempt to seize him. Edwin and Bothwell immediately followed him; but Lockhart and Scrymgeour remained to take charge of the remains of the faithful Ker, and to observe the tendency of the tumult which began to murmur amongst the lower orders of the bystanders.
Chapter LXXVIII.
Banks of the Eske.
A vague suspicion of the regent and his thanes, and yet a panic-struck pusillanimity, which shrunk from supporting that Wallace whom those thanes chose to abandon, carried the spirit of slavery from the platform before the council tent, to the chieftains who thronged the ranks of Ruthven, and even to the perversion of some few who had followed the golden-haired standard of Bothwell. The brave troops of Lanark (which the desperate battle of Dalkeith reduced to not more than sixty men) alone remained unmoved; so catching is the quailing spirit of doubt, abjectness, and fearful submission.
In the moment when the indignant Ruthven saw his Perths.h.i.+re legions rolling off toward the trumpet of Le de Spencer, Scrymgeour placed himself at the head of the men of Lanark. Unfurling the banner of Scotland, he marched with a steady step to the tent of Bothwell, whither he did not doubt that Wallace had retired. He found him a.s.suaging the impa.s.sioned grief of Edwin, and striving to moderate the vehement wrath of the faithful Murray, ”Pour not out the energy of your soul upon these worthless men!” said he; ”leave them to the fates they seek--the fates they have incurred by the innocent blood shed this day!
The few brave hearts who yet remain loyal to this country, are insufficient to stem at this spot the torrent of corruption. Retire beyond the Forth, my friend. Rally all true Scots around Huntingtower.
Let the royal inmate proclaim himself, and, at the foot of the Grampians, lock the gates of the Highlands upon our enemies. From those bulwarks he will issue in strength, and Scotland may again be free!”
”Free, but never more honored!” cried Edwin; ”never more beloved by me!
Ungrateful, treacherous, base land,” added he, starting on his feet, and raising his clasped hands with the vehement abjuration of an indignant spirit; ”oh, that the salt sea would ingulf thee at once--that thy name and thy ingrat.i.tude could be no more remembered! I will never wear a sword for her again.”
”Edwin!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Wallace, in a reproachful, yet tender tone.