At the dead hour of midnight, while the two friends lay fast asleep, the youth, whose turn it was to watch, cautiously removed the bugie from the neck of Wallace, and conveyed it, along with his arms, through an aperture in the wall; then slowly opening the door, two men-at-arms silently entered, and, seizing upon Kerlé, hurried him from the apartment, and instantly put him to death. Wallace, awakened by the noise, started to his feet, and, missing his weapons, became sensible of his danger, but grasping a large piece of oak, which had been used for a seat, he struck two of his assailants dead on the spot, and drove the rest headlong before him. Seeing the fury to which he was roused, and the difficulty they would have in taking him alive, Menteith now advanced, to the aperture, and represented to him the folly of resistance, as the English, he said, having heard of his place of resort, and of the plans he had in contemplation, were collected in too large a force to be withstood; that if he would accompany him a prisoner to Dumbarton, he would undertake for the safety of his person;—that all the English wished, was to secure the peace of the country, and to be free from his molestation;—adding, that if he consented to go with him, he should live in his own house in the castle, and he, Menteith, alone should be his keeper;—that even now, he would willingly sacrifice his life in his defence; but that his attendants were too few, and too ill-appointed, to have any chance of success in contending with the English. He concluded by assuring Wallace, that he had followed in order to use his influence with his enemies in his behalf, and that they had listened to him on condition of an immediate surrender; but that if he did not instantly comply, the house would soon be in flames about him. These, and other arguments, were urged with all the seeming sincerity of friendship; and our patriot, confiding in early recollections, and the private understanding that subsisted between them, allowed himself to be conducted to Dumbarton Castle.
On the morrow, however, no Monteith appeared to exert his influence, in order to prevent the unfortunate hero from being carried from the fortress; and strongly fettered, and guarded by a powerful escort, under the command of Robert de Clifford and Aymer de Vallance, he was hurried to the South, by the line of road least exposed to the chance of a rescue.
CHAPTER XII.
TRIAL, EXECUTION, AND CHARACTER OF WALLACE.
As the capture of Wallace was an event wholly unexpected by the English, the news of it, which spread with the rapidity of lightning, produced, in every part of the kingdom, a deep and universal sensation. Labour of every kind was abandoned, and people of all ranks flocked to those points of the road where it was expected the illustrious captive would pass. At Carlisle the escort halted for a night; and the tower in which he was secured, long afterwards retained his name. As the cortège approached London, the crowds became more numerous; and, on entering the capital, his conductors found their progress retarded by the multitudes that were collected;—while every elevation or projection, however perilous, from which he could be seen, was occupied with, or clung to, by anxious spectators, eager to behold a man who had filled England with terror, and the fame of whose achievements had resounded through every country in Europe. After much exertion, the cavalcade at length reached the house of William Delect, a citizen in Fenchurch Street, where their prisoner was lodged for the night. From the circumstance of his having been taken to a private house, rather than to a place of greater security, it has been imagined by some, that Edward intended to make a last effort to gain Wallace over to his interest. This conjecture, however, is not sufficiently supported by subsequent proceedings, to entitle it to any degree of credit; and we are more inclined to believe, that the difficulty which the party encountered in making their way through the dense multitudes who had blocked up the streets and lanes leading to the Tower, may, with greater probability, be assigned as the cause for taking him to the house of Delect.
The thirst for revenge existed too keenly in the ruthless mind of Edward, to admit of much delay in the sacrifice of his victim. Though a consideration for the opinion of the more enlightened of his subjects, and the manner in which his conduct might be viewed at foreign courts, obliged him to have recourse at least to the formality of a trial—the indecent haste with which it was brought on, made the mockery of judicial procedure but too apparent. The day after his arrival, he was conducted on horseback, from the house which his brief residence had made the scene of universal attraction, to take his trial in Westminster Hall. His progress from Fenchurch Street, according to Stowe, appears to have been a sort of procession, Lord John de Segrave, the fugitive of Roslin, acting as Grand Marshal of England, and armed cap-à-pè, rode on one side, while Geoffrey de Hartlepool, Recorder of London, equipped in a similar manner, rode on the other. The Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen followed, attended by a number of official characters on horseback and on foot, arranged according to their respective grades.[70]
On reaching the spot where the solemn farce was to be performed, he was placed on the south bench of the great hall; and, in consequence of an absurd report,[71] which had been circulated in England, of his having said that he deserved to wear a crown in that place, a crown of laurel was put upon his head. The noble appearance of the man, joined to his calm and unruffled demeanour, entirely disarmed this silly attempt at ridicule of its intended effect.[72]
Sir Peter Malory, the King’s Justice, then rose, and read the indictment, wherein the prisoner was charged with treason against the King of England, burning of towns, and slaying of the subjects of his Majesty. To the first of these counts Wallace answered, that, as he had never been the subject of the King of England, he owed him no allegiance, and consequently could be no traitor. As to the other offences, he frankly admitted, that, in the discharge of his duty to his country, he had done all that was stated. On this admission, the following atrocious sentence was pronounced:—
For treason, he was to be first dragged to the place of execution. For murder and robbery, he was to be then hung a certain time by the neck; and, because he had burned abbeys and religious houses, he was to be taken down alive from the gibbet, his entrails torn out, and burnt before him, his body to be quartered, and the parts afterwards to be disposed of as the clemency of Majesty might suggest.[73]