Wallace The Hero Of Scotland


On a summer's day, many centuries ago, a young gentleman of Scotland was

fishing in the river Irvine, near Ayr, attended by a boy who carried his

fishing-basket. The young man was handsome of face, tall of figure, and

strongly built, while his skill as an angler was attested by the number

of trout which lay in the boy's basket. While he was thus engaged

several English soldiers, from the garrison of Ayr, came up to the

angler, and with the insolence with which these invaders were then in

the habit of treating the Scotch, insisted on taking the basket and its

contents from the boy.



"You ask too much," said Wallace, quietly. "You are welcome to a part of

the fish, but you cannot have them all."



"That we will," answered the soldiers.



"That you will not," retorted the youth. "I have other business than to

play fisherman for your benefit."



The soldiers insisted, and attempted to take the basket. The angler came

to the aid of his attendant. Words were followed by blows. The soldiers

laid hands on their weapons. The youth had no weapon but his

fishing-rod. But with the butt end of this he struck the foremost

Englishman so hard a blow under his ear that he stretched him dead upon

the ground. Seizing the man's sword, which had fallen from his hand, he

attacked the others with such skill and fury that they were put to

flight, and the bold angler was enabled to take his fish safely home.



The name of the courageous youth was William Wallace. He was the son of

a private gentleman, called Wallace of Ellerslie, who had brought up his

boy to the handling of warlike weapons, until he had grown an adept in

their use; and also to a hatred of the English, which was redoubled by

the insolence of the soldiers with whom Edward I. of England had

garrisoned the country. Like all high-spirited Scotchmen, the young man

viewed with indignation the conduct of the conquerors of his country,

and expressed the intensity of his feeling in the tragical manner above

described.



Wallace's life was in imminent danger from his exploit. The affair was

reported to the English governor of Ayr, who sought him diligently, and

would have put him to death had he been captured. But he took to the

hills and woods, and lay concealed in their recesses until the deed was

forgotten, being supplied by his friends with the necessaries of life.

As it was not safe to return to Ayr after his period of seclusion, he

made his way to another part of the country, where his bitter hostility

to the English soon led him into other encounters with them, in which

his strength, skill, and courage usually brought him off victorious. So

many were the affairs in which he was engaged, and so great his daring

and success, that the people began to talk of him as the champion of

Scotland, while the English grew to fear this indomitable young

swordsman.



At length came an adventure which brought matters to a crisis. Young

Wallace had married a lady of Lanark, and had taken up his residence in

that town with his wife. The place had an English garrison, and one day,

as Wallace walked in the market-place in a rich green dress, with a

handsome dagger by his side, an Englishman accosted him insultingly,

saying that no Scotchman had the right to wear such finery or to carry

so showy a weapon.



He had tried his insolence on the wrong man. A quarrel quickly followed,

and, as on similar occasions before, Wallace killed the Englishman. It

was an unwise act, inspired by his hasty temper and fiery indignation.

His peril was great. He hastened to his house, which was quickly

attacked by soldiers of the garrison. While they were seeking to break

in at the front, Wallace escaped at the rear, and made his way to a

rocky glen, called the Cortland-crags, near the town, where he found a

secure hiding-place among its thick-growing trees and bushes.



Meanwhile, the governor of Lanark, Hazelrigg by name, finding that the

culprit had escaped, set fire to his house, and with uncalled-for

cruelty put his wife and servants to death. He also proclaimed Wallace

an outlaw, and offered a reward for any one who should bring him in,

dead or alive. He and many of his countrymen were destined to pay the

penalty of this cruel deed before Wallace should fall into English

hands.



The murder of his wife set fire to the intense patriotism in Wallace's

soul. He determined to devote his life to acts of reprisal against the

enemy, and if possible to rescue his country from English hands. He soon

had under his command a body of daring partisans, some of them outlaws

like himself, others quite willing to become such for the good of

Scotland. The hills and forests of the country afforded them numerous

secure hiding-places, whence they could issue in raids upon the insolent

foe.



From that time forward Wallace gave the English no end of trouble. One

of his first expeditions was against Hazelrigg, to whom he owed so

bitter a debt of vengeance. The cruel governor was killed, and the

murdered woman avenged. Other expeditions were attempted, and collisions

with the soldiers sent against him became so frequent and the partisan

band so successful, that Wallace quickly grew famous, and the number of

his followers rapidly increased. In time, from being a band of outlaws,

his party grew to the dimensions of a small army, and in place of

contenting himself with local reprisals on the English, he cherished the

design of striking for the independence of his country.



The most notable adventure which followed this increase of Wallace's

band is one the story of which may be in part legendary, but which is

significant of the cruelty of warfare in those thirteenth-century days.

It is remembered among the Scottish people under the name of the "Barns

of Ayr."



The English governor of Ayr is said to have sent a general invitation to

the nobility and gentry of that section of Scotland to meet him in

friendly conference on national affairs. The place fixed for the meeting

was in certain large buildings called the barns of Ayr. The true purpose

of the governor was a murderous one. He proposed to rid himself of many

of those who were giving him trouble by the effective method of the

rope. Halters with running nooses had been prepared, and hung upon the

beams which supported the roof. The Scotch visitors were admitted two at

a time, and as they entered the nooses were thrown over their heads, and

they drawn up and hanged. Among those thus slain was Sir Reginald

Crawford, sheriff of the county of Ayr, and uncle to William Wallace.



This story it is not easy to believe, in the exact shape in which it is

given, since it is unlikely that the Scottish nobles were such fools as

it presupposes; but that it is founded on some tragical fact is highly

probable. The same is the case with the story of Wallace's retribution

for this crime. When the news of it came to his ears he is said to have

been greatly incensed, and to have determined on an adequate revenge. He

collected his men in a wood near. Ayr, and sent out spies to learn the

state of affairs. The English had followed their crime with a period of

carousing, and, having eaten and drunk all they wished, had lain down to

sleep in the barns in which the Scotch gentry had been murdered. Not

dreaming that a foe was so near, they had set no guards, and thus left

themselves open to the work of revenge.



This news being brought to Wallace, he directed a woman, who was

familiar with the locality, to mark with chalk the doors of the

buildings where the Englishmen lay. Then, slipping up to the borders of

Ayr, he sent a party with ropes, bidding them to fasten securely all the

marked doors. This done, others heaped straw on the outside of the

buildings and set it on fire. The buildings, being constructed of wood,

were quickly in a flame, the English waking from their drunken slumbers

to find themselves environed with fire.



Their fate was decided. Every entrance to the buildings had been

secured. Such as did succeed in getting out were driven back into the

flames, or killed on the spot. The whole party perished miserably, not

one escaping. In addition to the English thus disposed of, there were a

number lodged in a convent. These were attacked by the prior and the

monks, who had armed themselves with swords, and fiercely assailed their

guests, few of them escaped. The latter event is known as "The Friar of

Ayr's Blessing."



Such is the story of a crime and its retribution. To say that it is

legendary is equivalent to saying that it is not true in all its

particulars; but that it is founded on fact its common acceptance by the

people of that country seems evidence.



So far the acts of Wallace and his men had been of minor importance. But

now his party of followers grew into an army, many of the Scottish

nobles joining him. Prominent among these was Sir William Douglas, the

head of the most famous family in Scottish history. Another was Sir John

Grahame, who became the chief friend and confident of the champion of

the rights of Scotland.



This rebellious activity on the part of the Scotch had not been viewed

with indifference by the English. The raids of Wallace and his band of

outlaws they had left the local garrisons to deal with. But here was an

army, suddenly sprung into existence, and needing to be handled in a

different manner. An English army, under the command of John de Warenne,

the Earl of Surrey, marched towards Wallace's camp, with the purpose of

putting a summary end to this incipient effort at independence.



The approach of Warenne weakened Wallace's army, since many of the

nobles deserted his ranks, under the fear that he could not withstand

the greatly superior English force. Yet, in spite of these defections,

he held his ground. He still had a considerable force under his command,

and took position near the town of Stirling, on the south side of the

river Forth, where he awaited the approaching English army. The river

was at this point crossed by a long wooden bridge.



The English host reached the southern bank of the river. Its commander,

thinking that he might end the matter in a peaceful way, sent two

clergy-men to Wallace, offering a pardon to him and his followers if

they would lay down their arms.



"Go back to Warenne," was the reply of Wallace, "and tell him we value

not the pardon of the king of England. We are not here for the purpose

of treating of peace, but of abiding battle, and restoring freedom to

our country. Let the English come on; we defy them to their very

beards!"






Despite the disparity in numbers, Wallace had some warrant for his tone

of confidence. The English could not reach him except over the long and

narrow bridge, and stood the chance of having their vanguard destroyed

before the remainder could come to their aid.



Such proved to be the case. The English, after some hesitation,

attempted the passage of the bridge. Wallace held off until about half

the army had crossed and the bridge was thickly crowded with others.

Then he charged upon them with his whole force, and with such

impetuosity that they were thrown into confusion, and soon put to rout,

a large number being slain and the remainder driven into the Forth,

where the greater part of them were drowned. The portion of the English

army which had not crossed became infected with the panic of their

fellows, and fled in all haste, first setting fire to the bridge to

prevent pursuit.



This signal victory had the most encouraging influence on the people of

Scotland. The defeated army fled in all haste from the country, and

those of the Scotch who had hitherto remained in doubt now took arms,

and assailed the castles still held by the English. Many of these were

taken, and numerous gallant deeds done, of which Wallace is credited

with his full share. How much exaggeration there may be in the stories

told it is not easy to say, but it seems certain that the English

suffered several defeats, lost most of the towns and castles they had

held, and were driven almost entirely from the country. Wallace, indeed,

led his army into England, and laid waste Cumberland and Northumberland,

where many cruelties were committed, the Scottish soldiers being

irrepressible in their thirst for revenge on those who had so long

oppressed their country.



While these events were going on Edward I. was in Flanders. He had

deemed Scotland thoroughly subjugated, and learned with surprise and

fury that the Scottish had risen against him, defeated his armies, set

free their country, and even invaded England. He hurried back from

Flanders in a rage, determined to bring this rebellion to a short and

decisive termination.



Collecting a large army, Edward invaded Scotland. His opponent,

meanwhile, had been made protector, or governor, of Scotland, with the

title of Sir William Wallace. Yet he had risen so rapidly from a

private station to this great position that there was much jealousy of

him on the part of the great nobles, and their lack of support of the

best soldier and bravest man of their nation was the main cause of his

downfall and the subsequent disasters to their country.



Wallace, despite their defection, had assembled a considerable army. But

it was not so strong as that of Edward, who had, besides, a large body

of the celebrated archers of England, each of whom carried, so it was

claimed, twelve Scotchmen's lives in his girdle,--in his twelve

cloth-yard arrows.



The two armies met at Falkirk. Wallace, before the fighting began,

addressed his men in a pithy sentence: "I have brought you to the ring,

let me see how you can dance." The battle opened with a charge of the

English cavalry on the dense ranks of the Scottish infantry, who were

armed with long spears which they held so closely together that their

line seemed impregnable. The English horsemen found it so. They

attempted again and again to break through that "wood of spears," as it

has been called, but were every time beaten off with loss. But the

Scotch horse failed to support their brave footmen. On the contrary,

they fled from the field, through ill-will or treachery of the nobles,

as is supposed.



Edward now ordered his archers to advance. They did so, and poured their

arrows upon the Scottish ranks in such close and deadly volleys that

flesh and blood could not endure it. Wallace had also a body of archers,

from Ettrick forest, but they were attacked in their advance and many of

them slain. The English cavalry now again charged. They met with a

different reception from their previous one. The storm of arrows had

thrown Wallace's infantry into confusion, the line was broken at several

points, and the horsemen charged into their midst, cutting them down in

great numbers. Sir John Grahame and others of their leaders were slain,

and the Scotch, their firm ranks broken and many of them slain, at

length took to flight.



It was on the 22d of July, 1298, that this decisive battle took place.

Its event put an end, for the time, to the hopes of Scottish

independence. Opposition to Edward's army continued, and some successes

were gained, but the army of invasion was abundantly reinforced, until

in the end Wallace alone, at the head of a small band of followers,

remained in arms.



After all others had yielded, he persistently refused to submit to

Edward and his armies. As he had been the first to take arms, he was the

last to keep the field, and for some years he continued to maintain

himself among the woods and hills of the Highlands, holding his own for

more than a year after all the other chiefs had surrendered.



Edward was determined not to leave him at liberty. He feared the

influence of this one man more than of all the nobles of Scotland, and

pursued him unremittingly, a great price being offered for his head. At

length the gallant champion was captured, a Scotchman, Sir John

Menteith, earning obloquy by the act. The story goes that the capture

was made at Robroyston, near Glasgow, the fugitive champion being taken

by treachery, the signal for rushing upon him and taking him unawares

being for one of the company to turn a loaf, which lay upon the table,

with its bottom side uppermost. In after-days it was considered very

ill-breeding for any one to turn a loaf in this manner, if a person

named Menteith were at table.



However this be, it is certain that Wallace was taken and delivered to

his great enemy, and no less certain that he was treated with barbarous

harshness. He was placed on trial at Westminster Hall, on the charge of

being a traitor to the English crown, and Edward, to insult him, had him

crowned with a green garland, as one who had been king of outlaws and

robbers in the Scottish woods.



"I could not be a traitor to Edward, for I was never his subject," was

the chieftain's answer to the charge against him.



He was then accused of taking many towns and castles, killing many men,

and doing much violence.



"It is true I have killed many Englishmen," replied Wallace, "but it was

because they came to oppress my native country. Far from repenting of

this, I am only sorry not to have put to death many more of them."



Wallace's defence was a sound one, but Edward had prejudged him. He was

condemned and executed, his body being quartered, in the cruel fashion

of that time, and the parts exposed on spikes on London bridge, as the

limbs of a traitor. Thus died a hero, at the command of a tyrant.



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