CHAPTER XVI--ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE FIRST, CALLED LONGSHANKS
It was now the year of our Lord one thousand two hundred and seventy-two;and Prince Edward, the heir to the throne, being away in the Holy Land,knew nothing of his father's death. The Barons, however, proclaimed himKing, immediately after the Royal funeral; and the people very willinglyconsented, since most men knew too well by this time what the horrors ofa contest for the crown were. So King Edward the First, called, in a notvery complimentary manner, LONGSHANKS, because of the slenderness of hislegs, was peacefully accepted by the English Nation.
His legs had need to be strong, however long and thin they were; for theyhad to support him through many difficulties on the fiery sands of Asia,where his small force of soldiers fainted, died, deserted, and seemed tomelt away. But his prowess made light of it, and he said, 'I will go on,if I go on with no other follower than my groom!'
A Prince of this spirit gave the Turks a deal of trouble. He stormedNazareth, at which place, of all places on earth, I am sorry to relate,he made a frightful slaughter of innocent people; and then he went toAcre, where he got a truce of ten years from the Sultan. He had verynearly lost his life in Acre, through the treachery of a Saracen Noble,called the Emir of Jaffa, who, making the pretence that he had some ideaof turning Christian and wanted to know all about that religion, sent atrusty messenger to Edward very often--with a dagger in his sleeve. Atlast, one Friday in Whitsun week, when it was very hot, and all the sandyprospect lay beneath the blazing sun, burnt up like a great overdonebiscuit, and Edward was lying on a couch, dressed for coolness in only aloose robe, the messenger, with his chocolate-coloured face and hisbright dark eyes and white teeth, came creeping in with a letter, andkneeled down like a tame tiger. But, the moment Edward stretched out hishand to take the letter, the tiger made a spring at his heart. He wasquick, but Edward was quick too. He seized the traitor by his chocolatethroat, threw him to the ground, and slew him with the very dagger he haddrawn. The weapon had struck Edward in the arm, and although the wounditself was slight, it threatened to be mortal, for the blade of thedagger had been smeared with poison. Thanks, however, to a bettersurgeon than was often to be found in those times, and to some wholesomeherbs, and above all, to his faithful wife, ELEANOR, who devotedly nursedhim, and is said by some to have sucked the poison from the wound withher own red lips (which I am very willing to believe), Edward soonrecovered and was sound again.
As the King his father had sent entreaties to him to return home, he nowbegan the journey. He had got as far as Italy, when he met messengerswho brought him intelligence of the King's death. Hearing that all wasquiet at home, he made no haste to return to his own dominions, but paida visit to the Pope, and went in state through various Italian Towns,where he was welcomed with acclamations as a mighty champion of the Crossfrom the Holy Land, and where he received presents of purple mantles andprancing horses, and went along in great triumph. The shouting peoplelittle knew that he was the last English monarch who would ever embark ina crusade, or that within twenty years every conquest which theChristians had made in the Holy Land at the cost of so much blood, wouldbe won back by the Turks. But all this came to pass.
There was, and there is, an old town standing in a plain in France,called Chalons. When the King was coming towards this place on his wayto England, a wily French Lord, called the Count of Chalons, sent him apolite challenge to come with his knights and hold a fair tournament withthe Count and _his_ knights, and make a day of it with sword and lance.It was represented to the King that the Count of Chalons was not to betrusted, and that, instead of a holiday fight for mere show and in goodhumour, he secretly meant a real battle, in which the English should bedefeated by superior force.
The King, however, nothing afraid, went to the appointed place on theappointed day with a thousand followers. When the Count came with twothousand and attacked the English in earnest, the English rushed at themwith such valour that the Count's men and the Count's horses soon beganto be tumbled down all over the field. The Count himself seized the Kinground the neck, but the King tumbled _him_ out of his saddle in returnfor the compliment, and, jumping from his own horse, and standing overhim, beat away at his iron armour like a blacksmith hammering on hisanvil. Even when the Count owned himself defeated and offered his sword,the King would not do him the honour to take it, but made him yield it upto a common soldier. There had been such fury shown in this fight, thatit was afterwards called the little Battle of Chalons.
The English were very well disposed to be proud of their King after theseadventures; so, when he landed at Dover in the year one thousand twohundred and seventy-four (being then thirty-six years old), and went onto Westminster where he and his good Queen were crowned with greatmagnificence, splendid rejoicings took place. For the coronation-feastthere were provided, among other eatables, four hundred oxen, fourhundred sheep, four hundred and fifty pigs, eighteen wild boars, threehundred flitches of bacon, and twenty thousand fowls. The fountains andconduits in the street flowed with red and white wine instead of water;the rich citizens hung silks and cloths of the brightest colours out oftheir windows to increase the beauty of the show, and threw out gold andsilver by whole handfuls to make scrambles for the crowd. In short,there was such eating and drinking, such music and capering, such aringing of bells and tossing of caps, such a shouting, and singing, andrevelling, as the narrow overhanging streets of old London City had notwitnessed for many a long day. All the people were merry except the poorJews, who, trembling within their houses, and scarcely daring to peepout, began to foresee that they would have to find the money for thisjoviality sooner or later.
To dismiss this sad subject of the Jews for the present, I am sorry toadd that in this reign they were most unmercifully pillaged. They werehanged in great numbers, on accusations of having clipped the King'scoin--which all kinds of people had done. They were heavily taxed; theywere disgracefully badged; they were, on one day, thirteen years afterthe coronation, taken up with their wives and children and thrown intobeastly prisons, until they purchased their release by paying to the Kingtwelve thousand pounds. Finally, every kind of property belonging tothem was seized by the King, except so little as would defray the chargeof their taking themselves away into foreign countries. Many yearselapsed before the hope of gain induced any of their race to return toEngland, where they had been treated so heartlessly and had suffered somuch.
If King Edward the First had been as bad a king to Christians as he wasto Jews, he would have been bad indeed. But he was, in general, a wiseand great monarch, under whom the country much improved. He had no lovefor the Great Charter--few Kings had, through many, many years--but hehad high qualities. The first bold object which he conceived when hecame home, was, to unite under one Sovereign England, Scotland, andWales; the two last of which countries had each a little king of its own,about whom the people were always quarrelling and fighting, and making aprodigious disturbance--a great deal more than he was worth. In thecourse of King Edward's reign he was engaged, besides, in a war withFrance. To make these quarrels clearer, we will separate their historiesand take them thus. Wales, first. France, second. Scotland, third.
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LLEWELLYN was the Prince of Wales. He had been on the side of the Baronsin the reign of the stupid old King, but had afterwards sworn allegianceto him. When King Edward came to the throne, Llewellyn was required toswear allegiance to him also; which he refused to do. The King, beingcrowned and in his own dominions, three times more required Llewellyn tocome and do homage; and three times more Llewellyn said he would rathernot. He was going to be married to ELEANOR DE MONTFORT, a young lady ofthe family mentioned in the last reign; and it chanced that this younglady, coming from France with her youngest brother, EMERIC, was taken byan English ship, and was ordered by the English King to be detained. Uponthis, the quarrel came to a head. The King went, with his fleet, to thecoast of Wales, where, so encompassing Llewellyn, that he could only takerefuge in the bleak mountain region of Snowdon in which no provisionscould reach him, he was soon starved into an apology, and into a treatyof peace, and into paying the expenses of the war. The King, however,forgave him some of the hardest conditions of the treaty, and consentedto his marriage. And he now thought he had reduced Wales to obedience.
But the Welsh, although they were naturally a gentle, quiet, pleasantpeople, who liked to receive strangers in their cottages among themountains, and to set before them with free hospitality whatever they hadto eat and drink, and to play to them on their harps, and sing theirnative ballads to them, were a people of great spirit when their bloodwas up. Englishmen, after this affair, began to be insolent in Wales,and to assume the air of masters; and the Welsh pride could not bear it.Moreover, they believed in that unlucky old Merlin, some of whose unluckyold prophecies somebody always seemed doomed to remember when there was achance of its doing harm; and just at this time some blind old gentlemanwith a harp and a long white beard, who was an excellent person, but hadbecome of an unknown age and tedious, burst out with a declaration thatMerlin had predicted that when English money had become round, a Princeof Wales would be crowned in London. Now, King Edward had recentlyforbidden the English penny to be cut into halves and quarters forhalfpence and farthings, and had actually introduced a round coin;therefore, the Welsh people said this was the time Merlin meant, and roseaccordingly.
King Edward had bought over PRINCE DAVID, Llewellyn's brother, by heapingfavours upon him; but he was the first to revolt, being perhaps troubledin his conscience. One stormy night, he surprised the Castle ofHawarden, in possession of which an English nobleman had been left;killed the whole garrison, and carried off the nobleman a prisoner toSnowdon. Upon this, the Welsh people rose like one man. King Edward,with his army, marching from Worcester to the Menai Strait, crossedit--near to where the wonderful tubular iron bridge now, in days sodifferent, makes a passage for railway trains--by a bridge of boats thatenabled forty men to march abreast. He subdued the Island of Anglesea,and sent his men forward to observe the enemy. The sudden appearance ofthe Welsh created a panic among them, and they fell back to the bridge.The tide had in the meantime risen and separated the boats; the Welshpursuing them, they were driven into the sea, and there they sunk, intheir heavy iron armour, by thousands. After this victory Llewellyn,helped by the severe winter-weather of Wales, gained another battle; butthe King ordering a portion of his English army to advance through SouthWales, and catch him between two foes, and Llewellyn bravely turning tomeet this new enemy, he was surprised and killed--very meanly, for he wasunarmed and defenceless. His head was struck off and sent to London,where it was fixed upon the Tower, encircled with a wreath, some say ofivy, some say of willow, some say of silver, to make it look like aghastly coin in ridicule of the prediction.
David, however, still held out for six months, though eagerly soughtafter by the King, and hunted by his own countrymen. One of them finallybetrayed him with his wife and children. He was sentenced to be hanged,drawn, and quartered; and from that time this became the establishedpunishment of Traitors in England--a punishment wholly without excuse, asbeing revolting, vile, and cruel, after its object is dead; and which hasno sense in it, as its only real degradation (and that nothing can blotout) is to the country that permits on any consideration such abominablebarbarity.
Wales was now subdued. The Queen giving birth to a young prince in theCastle of Carnarvon, the King showed him to the Welsh people as theircountryman, and called him Prince of Wales; a title that has ever sincebeen borne by the heir-apparent to the English throne--which that littlePrince soon became, by the death of his elder brother. The King didbetter things for the Welsh than that, by improving their laws andencouraging their trade. Disturbances still took place, chieflyoccasioned by the avarice and pride of the English Lords, on whom Welshlands and castles had been bestowed; but they were subdued, and thecountry never rose again. There is a legend that to prevent the peoplefrom being incited to rebellion by the songs of their bards and harpers,Edward had them all put to death. Some of them may have fallen amongother men who held out against the King; but this general slaughter is, Ithink, a fancy of the harpers themselves, who, I dare say, made a songabout it many years afterwards, and sang it by the Welsh firesides untilit came to be believed.
The foreign war of the reign of Edward the First arose in this way. Thecrews of two vessels, one a Norman ship, and the other an English ship,happened to go to the same place in their boats to fill their casks withfresh water. Being rough angry fellows, they began to quarrel, and thento fight--the English with their fists; the Normans with theirknives--and, in the fight, a Norman was killed. The Norman crew, insteadof revenging themselves upon those English sailors with whom they hadquarrelled (who were too strong for them, I suspect), took to their shipagain in a great rage, attacked the first English ship they met, laidhold of an unoffending merchant who happened to be on board, and brutallyhanged him in the rigging of their own vessel with a dog at his feet.This so enraged the English sailors that there was no restraining them;and whenever, and wherever, English sailors met Norman sailors, they fellupon each other tooth and nail. The Irish and Dutch sailors took partwith the English; the French and Genoese sailors helped the Normans; andthus the greater part of the mariners sailing over the sea became, intheir way, as violent and raging as the sea itself when it is disturbed.
King Edward's fame had been so high abroad that he had been chosen todecide a difference between France and another foreign power, and hadlived upon the Continent three years. At first, neither he nor theFrench King PHILIP (the good Louis had been dead some time) interfered inthese quarrels; but when a fleet of eighty English ships engaged andutterly defeated a Norman fleet of two hundred, in a pitched battlefought round a ship at anchor, in which no quarter was given, the matterbecame too serious to be passed over. King Edward, as Duke of Guienne,was summoned to present himself before the King of France, at Paris, andanswer for the damage done by his sailor subjects. At first, he sent theBishop of London as his representative, and then his brother EDMUND, whowas married to the French Queen's mother. I am afraid Edmund was an easyman, and allowed himself to be talked over by his charming relations, theFrench court ladies; at all events, he was induced to give up hisbrother's dukedom for forty days--as a mere form, the French King said,to satisfy his honour--and he was so very much astonished, when the timewas out, to find that the French King had no idea of giving it up again,that I should not wonder if it hastened his death: which soon took place.
King Edward was a King to win his foreign dukedom back again, if it couldbe won by energy and valour. He raised a large army, renounced hisallegiance as Duke of Guienne, and crossed the sea to carry war intoFrance. Before any important battle was fought, however, a truce wasagreed upon for two years; and in the course of that time, the Popeeffected a reconciliation. King Edward, who was now a widower, havinglost his affectionate and good wife, Eleanor, married the French King'ssister, MARGARET; and the Prince of Wales was contracted to the FrenchKing's daughter ISABELLA.
Out of bad things, good things sometimes arise. Out of this hanging ofthe innocent merchant, and the bloodshed and strife it caused, there cameto be established one of the greatest powers that the English people nowpossess. The preparations for the war being very expensive, and KingEdward greatly wanting money, and being very arbitrary in his ways ofraising it, some of the Barons began firmly to oppose him. Two of them,in particular, HUMPHREY BOHUN, Earl of Hereford, and ROGER BIGOD, Earl ofNorfolk, were so stout against him, that they maintained he had no rightto command them to head his forces in Guienne, and flatly refused to gothere. 'By Heaven, Sir Earl,' said the King to the Earl of Hereford, ina great passion, 'you shall either go or be hanged!' 'By Heaven, SirKing,' replied the Earl, 'I will neither go nor yet will I be hanged!'and both he and the other Earl sturdily left the court, attended by manyLords. The King tried every means of raising money. He taxed theclergy, in spite of all the Pope said to the contrary; and when theyrefused to pay, reduced them to submission, by saying Very well, thenthey had no claim upon the government for protection, and any man mightplunder them who would--which a good many men were very ready to do, andvery readily did, and which the clergy found too losing a game to beplayed at long. He seized all the wool and leather in the hands of themerchants, promising to pay for it some fine day; and he set a tax uponthe exportation of wool, which was so unpopular among the traders that itwas called 'The evil toll.' But all would not do. The Barons, led bythose two great Earls, declared any taxes imposed without the consent ofParliament, unlawful; and the Parliament refused to impose taxes, untilthe King should confirm afresh the two Great Charters, and shouldsolemnly declare in writing, that there was no power in the country toraise money from the people, evermore, but the power of Parliamentrepresenting all ranks of the people. The King was very unwilling todiminish his own power by allowing this great privilege in theParliament; but there was no help for it, and he at last complied. Weshall come to another King by-and-by, who might have saved his head fromrolling off, if he had profited by this example.
The people gained other benefits in Parliament from the good sense andwisdom of this King. Many of the laws were much improved; provision wasmade for the greater safety of travellers, and the apprehension ofthieves and murderers; the priests were prevented from holding too muchland, and so becoming too powerful; and Justices of the Peace were firstappointed (though not at first under that name) in various parts of thecountry.
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And now we come to Scotland, which was the great and lasting trouble ofthe reign of King Edward the First.
About thirteen years after King Edward's coronation, Alexander the Third,the King of Scotland, died of a fall from his horse. He had been marriedto Margaret, King Edward's sister. All their children being dead, theScottish crown became the right of a young Princess only eight years old,the daughter of ERIC, King of Norway, who had married a daughter of thedeceased sovereign. King Edward proposed, that the Maiden of Norway, asthis Princess was called, should be engaged to be married to his eldestson; but, unfortunately, as she was coming over to England she fell sick,and landing on one of the Orkney Islands, died there. A great commotionimmediately began in Scotland, where as many as thirteen noisy claimantsto the vacant throne started up and made a general confusion.
King Edward being much renowned for his sagacity and justice, it seems tohave been agreed to refer the dispute to him. He accepted the trust, andwent, with an army, to the Border-land where England and Scotland joined.There, he called upon the Scottish gentlemen to meet him at the Castle ofNorham, on the English side of the river Tweed; and to that Castle theycame. But, before he would take any step in the business, he requiredthose Scottish gentlemen, one and all, to do homage to him as theirsuperior Lord; and when they hesitated, he said, 'By holy Edward, whosecrown I wear, I will have my rights, or I will die in maintaining them!'The Scottish gentlemen, who had not expected this, were disconcerted, andasked for three weeks to think about it.
At the end of the three weeks, another meeting took place, on a greenplain on the Scottish side of the river. Of all the competitors for theScottish throne, there were only two who had any real claim, in right oftheir near kindred to the Royal Family. These were JOHN BALIOL andROBERT BRUCE: and the right was, I have no doubt, on the side of JohnBaliol. At this particular meeting John Baliol was not present, butRobert Bruce was; and on Robert Bruce being formally asked whether heacknowledged the King of England for his superior lord, he answered,plainly and distinctly, Yes, he did. Next day, John Baliol appeared, andsaid the same. This point settled, some arrangements were made forinquiring into their titles.
The inquiry occupied a pretty long time--more than a year. While it wasgoing on, King Edward took the opportunity of making a journey throughScotland, and calling upon the Scottish people of all degrees toacknowledge themselves his vassals, or be imprisoned until they did. Inthe meanwhile, Commissioners were appointed to conduct the inquiry, aParliament was held at Berwick about it, the two claimants were heard atfull length, and there was a vast amount of talking. At last, in thegreat hall of the Castle of Berwick, the King gave judgment in favour ofJohn Baliol: who, consenting to receive his crown by the King ofEngland's favour and permission, was crowned at Scone, in an old stonechair which had been used for ages in the abbey there, at the coronationsof Scottish Kings. Then, King Edward caused the great seal of Scotland,used since the late King's death, to be broken in four pieces, and placedin the English Treasury; and considered that he now had Scotland(according to the common saying) under his thumb.
Scotland had a strong will of its own yet, however. King Edward,determined that the Scottish King should not forget he was his vassal,summoned him repeatedly to come and defend himself and his judges beforethe English Parliament when appeals from the decisions of Scottish courtsof justice were being heard. At length, John Baliol, who had no greatheart of his own, had so much heart put into him by the brave spirit ofthe Scottish people, who took this as a national insult, that he refusedto come any more. Thereupon, the King further required him to help himin his war abroad (which was then in progress), and to give up, assecurity for his good behaviour in future, the three strong ScottishCastles of Jedburgh, Roxburgh, and Berwick. Nothing of this being done;on the contrary, the Scottish people concealing their King among theirmountains in the Highlands and showing a determination to resist; Edwardmarched to Berwick with an army of thirty thousand foot, and fourthousand horse; took the Castle, and slew its whole garrison, and theinhabitants of the town as well--men, women, and children. LORDWARRENNE, Earl of Surrey, then went on to the Castle of Dunbar, beforewhich a battle was fought, and the whole Scottish army defeated withgreat slaughter. The victory being complete, the Earl of Surrey was leftas guardian of Scotland; the principal offices in that kingdom were givento Englishmen; the more powerful Scottish Nobles were obliged to come andlive in England; the Scottish crown and sceptre were brought away; andeven the old stone chair was carried off and placed in Westminster Abbey,where you may see it now. Baliol had the Tower of London lent him for aresidence, with permission to range about within a circle of twentymiles. Three years afterwards he was allowed to go to Normandy, where hehad estates, and where he passed the remaining six years of his life: farmore happily, I dare say, than he had lived for a long while in angryScotland.
Now, there was, in the West of Scotland, a gentleman of small fortune,named WILLIAM WALLACE, the second son of a Scottish knight. He was a manof great size and great strength; he was very brave and daring; when hespoke to a body of his countrymen, he could rouse them in a wonderfulmanner by the power of his burning words; he loved Scotland dearly, andhe hated England with his utmost might. The domineering conduct of theEnglish who now held the places of trust in Scotland made them asintolerable to the proud Scottish people as they had been, under similarcircumstances, to the Welsh; and no man in all Scotland regarded themwith so much smothered rage as William Wallace. One day, an Englishmanin office, little knowing what he was, affronted _him_. Wallaceinstantly struck him dead, and taking refuge among the rocks and hills,and there joining with his countryman, SIR WILLIAM DOUGLAS, who was alsoin arms against King Edward, became the most resolute and undauntedchampion of a people struggling for their independence that ever livedupon the earth.
The English Guardian of the Kingdom fled before him, and, thusencouraged, the Scottish people revolted everywhere, and fell upon theEnglish without mercy. The Earl of Surrey, by the King's commands,raised all the power of the Border-counties, and two English armiespoured into Scotland. Only one Chief, in the face of those armies, stoodby Wallace, who, with a force of forty thousand men, awaited the invadersat a place on the river Forth, within two miles of Stirling. Across theriver there was only one poor wooden bridge, called the bridge ofKildean--so narrow, that but two men could cross it abreast. With hiseyes upon this bridge, Wallace posted the greater part of his men amongsome rising grounds, and waited calmly. When the English army came up onthe opposite bank of the river, messengers were sent forward to offerterms. Wallace sent them back with a defiance, in the name of thefreedom of Scotland. Some of the officers of the Earl of Surrey incommand of the English, with _their_ eyes also on the bridge, advised himto be discreet and not hasty. He, however, urged to immediate battle bysome other officers, and particularly by CRESSINGHAM, King Edward'streasurer, and a rash man, gave the word of command to advance. Onethousand English crossed the bridge, two abreast; the Scottish troopswere as motionless as stone images. Two thousand English crossed; threethousand, four thousand, five. Not a feather, all this time, had beenseen to stir among the Scottish bonnets. Now, they all fluttered.'Forward, one party, to the foot of the Bridge!' cried Wallace, 'and letno more English cross! The rest, down with me on the five thousand whohave come over, and cut them all to pieces!' It was done, in the sightof the whole remainder of the English army, who could give no help.Cressingham himself was killed, and the Scotch made whips for theirhorses of his skin.
King Edward was abroad at this time, and during the successes on theScottish side which followed, and which enabled bold Wallace to win thewhole country back again, and even to ravage the English borders. But,after a few winter months, the King returned, and took the field withmore than his usual energy. One night, when a kick from his horse asthey both lay on the ground together broke two of his ribs, and a cryarose that he was killed, he leaped into his saddle, regardless of thepain he suffered, and rode through the camp. Day then appearing, he gavethe word (still, of course, in that bruised and aching state) Forward!and led his army on to near Falkirk, where the Scottish forces were seendrawn up on some stony ground, behind a morass. Here, he defeatedWallace, and killed fifteen thousand of his men. With the shatteredremainder, Wallace drew back to Stirling; but, being pursued, set fire tothe town that it might give no help to the English, and escaped. Theinhabitants of Perth afterwards set fire to their houses for the samereason, and the King, unable to find provisions, was forced to withdrawhis army.
Another ROBERT BRUCE, the grandson of him who had disputed the Scottishcrown with Baliol, was now in arms against the King (that elder Brucebeing dead), and also JOHN COMYN, Baliol's nephew. These two young menmight agree in opposing Edward, but could agree in nothing else, as theywere rivals for the throne of Scotland. Probably it was because theyknew this, and knew what troubles must arise even if they could hope toget the better of the great English King, that the principal Scottishpeople applied to the Pope for his interference. The Pope, on theprinciple of losing nothing for want of trying to get it, very coollyclaimed that Scotland belonged to him; but this was a little too much,and the Parliament in a friendly manner told him so.
In the spring time of the year one thousand three hundred and three, theKing sent SIR JOHN SEGRAVE, whom he made Governor of Scotland, withtwenty thousand men, to reduce the rebels. Sir John was not as carefulas he should have been, but encamped at Rosslyn, near Edinburgh, with hisarmy divided into three parts. The Scottish forces saw their advantage;fell on each part separately; defeated each; and killed all theprisoners. Then, came the King himself once more, as soon as a greatarmy could be raised; he passed through the whole north of Scotland,laying waste whatsoever came in his way; and he took up his winterquarters at Dunfermline. The Scottish cause now looked so hopeless, thatComyn and the other nobles made submission and received their pardons.Wallace alone stood out. He was invited to surrender, though on nodistinct pledge that his life should be spared; but he still defied theireful King, and lived among the steep crags of the Highland glens, wherethe eagles made their nests, and where the mountain torrents roared, andthe white snow was deep, and the bitter winds blew round his unshelteredhead, as he lay through many a pitch-dark night wrapped up in his plaid.Nothing could break his spirit; nothing could lower his courage; nothingcould induce him to forget or to forgive his country's wrongs. Even whenthe Castle of Stirling, which had long held out, was besieged by the Kingwith every kind of military engine then in use; even when the lead uponcathedral roofs was taken down to help to make them; even when the King,though an old man, commanded in the siege as if he were a youth, being soresolved to conquer; even when the brave garrison (then found withamazement to be not two hundred people, including several ladies) werestarved and beaten out and were made to submit on their knees, and withevery form of disgrace that could aggravate their sufferings; even then,when there was not a ray of hope in Scotland, William Wallace was asproud and firm as if he had beheld the powerful and relentless Edwardlying dead at his feet.
Who betrayed William Wallace in the end, is not quite certain. That hewas betrayed--probably by an attendant--is too true. He was taken to theCastle of Dumbarton, under SIR JOHN MENTEITH, and thence to London, wherethe great fame of his bravery and resolution attracted immense concoursesof people to behold him. He was tried in Westminster Hall, with a crownof laurel on his head--it is supposed because he was reported to havesaid that he ought to wear, or that he would wear, a crown there and wasfound guilty as a robber, a murderer, and a traitor. What they called arobber (he said to those who tried him) he was, because he had takenspoil from the King's men. What they called a murderer, he was, becausehe had slain an insolent Englishman. What they called a traitor, he wasnot, for he had never sworn allegiance to the King, and had ever scornedto do it. He was dragged at the tails of horses to West Smithfield, andthere hanged on a high gallows, torn open before he was dead, beheaded,and quartered. His head was set upon a pole on London Bridge, his rightarm was sent to Newcastle, his left arm to Berwick, his legs to Perth andAberdeen. But, if King Edward had had his body cut into inches, and hadsent every separate inch into a separate town, he could not havedispersed it half so far and wide as his fame. Wallace will beremembered in songs and stories, while there are songs and stories in theEnglish tongue, and Scotland will hold him dear while her lakes andmountains last.
Released from this dreaded enemy, the King made a fairer plan ofGovernment for Scotland, divided the offices of honour among Scottishgentlemen and English gentlemen, forgave past offences, and thought, inhis old age, that his work was done.
But he deceived himself. Comyn and Bruce conspired, and made anappointment to meet at Dumfries, in the church of the Minorites. Thereis a story that Comyn was false to Bruce, and had informed against him tothe King; that Bruce was warned of his danger and the necessity offlight, by receiving, one night as he sat at supper, from his friend theEarl of Gloucester, twelve pennies and a pair of spurs; that as he wasriding angrily to keep his appointment (through a snow-storm, with hishorse's shoes reversed that he might not be tracked), he met anevil-looking serving man, a messenger of Comyn, whom he killed, andconcealed in whose dress he found letters that proved Comyn's treachery.However this may be, they were likely enough to quarrel in any case,being hot-headed rivals; and, whatever they quarrelled about, theycertainly did quarrel in the church where they met, and Bruce drew hisdagger and stabbed Comyn, who fell upon the pavement. When Bruce cameout, pale and disturbed, the friends who were waiting for him asked whatwas the matter? 'I think I have killed Comyn,' said he. 'You only thinkso?' returned one of them; 'I will make sure!' and going into the church,and finding him alive, stabbed him again and again. Knowing that theKing would never forgive this new deed of violence, the party thendeclared Bruce King of Scotland: got him crowned at Scone--without thechair; and set up the rebellious standard once again.
When the King heard of it he kindled with fiercer anger than he had evershown yet. He caused the Prince of Wales and two hundred and seventy ofthe young nobility to be knighted--the trees in the Temple Gardens werecut down to make room for their tents, and they watched their armour allnight, according to the old usage: some in the Temple Church: some inWestminster Abbey--and at the public Feast which then took place, heswore, by Heaven, and by two swans covered with gold network which hisminstrels placed upon the table, that he would avenge the death of Comyn,and would punish the false Bruce. And before all the company, he chargedthe Prince his son, in case that he should die before accomplishing hisvow, not to bury him until it was fulfilled. Next morning the Prince andthe rest of the young Knights rode away to the Border-country to join theEnglish army; and the King, now weak and sick, followed in ahorse-litter.
Bruce, after losing a battle and undergoing many dangers and much misery,fled to Ireland, where he lay concealed through the winter. That winter,Edward passed in hunting down and executing Bruce's relations andadherents, sparing neither youth nor age, and showing no touch of pity orsign of mercy. In the following spring, Bruce reappeared and gained somevictories. In these frays, both sides were grievously cruel. Forinstance--Bruce's two brothers, being taken captives desperately wounded,were ordered by the King to instant execution. Bruce's friend Sir JohnDouglas, taking his own Castle of Douglas out of the hands of an EnglishLord, roasted the dead bodies of the slaughtered garrison in a great firemade of every movable within it; which dreadful cookery his men calledthe Douglas Larder. Bruce, still successful, however, drove the Earl ofPembroke and the Earl of Gloucester into the Castle of Ayr and laid siegeto it.
The King, who had been laid up all the winter, but had directed the armyfrom his sick-bed, now advanced to Carlisle, and there, causing thelitter in which he had travelled to be placed in the Cathedral as anoffering to Heaven, mounted his horse once more, and for the last time.He was now sixty-nine years old, and had reigned thirty-five years. Hewas so ill, that in four days he could go no more than six miles; still,even at that pace, he went on and resolutely kept his face towards theBorder. At length, he lay down at the village of Burgh-upon-Sands; andthere, telling those around him to impress upon the Prince that he was toremember his father's vow, and was never to rest until he had thoroughlysubdued Scotland, he yielded up his last breath.