Life of Sir William Wallace of Elderslie, Vol. 2 (of 2)

by John D. Carrick

Edward, as if aware of the feud that thus existed in the Scottish camp, and though suffering from the effects of his late accident, ordered the Earl of Hereford, Constable of England, to advance with a body of thirty thousand men, to attack the division under Cumyn; who, on seeing them approach, turned his banners, and marched off the field, leaving Stewart and his Brandanes (as the inhabitants of Bute were then called), and the archers of Selkirk, his immediate vassals, exposed to all the fury of the charge. They sustained it with the firmest resolution; but the great mass of assailants against whom they were engaged, left them little chance of success. Stewart, in the early part of the battle, while giving orders to a body of archers, was thrown from his horse and slain. His followers, however, far from being discouraged by the loss of their chief, continued the conflict with the greatest bravery. Macduff, with a great part of his retainers, were cut off, in their endeavours to retrieve the fortunes of the day, yet numbers forced their way through the ranks of the English, and joined the division under Wallace. This was observed by Edward, who, impatient at the resistance he had already met with, ordered Robert Bruce and the Bishop of Durham to advance with the forces under their command. While Wallace was engaged in securing the retreat of his unfortunate countrymen, Bruce made a circuit round the hill which he occupied, and gaining the ascent, obliged him to quit his position, and endeavour to force his way through the enemy beneath. The charge of this fresh body of Scots, composed of the stoutest and best disciplined warriors in the country, was but ill sustained by the division they attacked, which, giving way before their impetuous descent, was thrown into confusion; and Wallace, availing himself of their disorder, directed his troops to cross the Carron, and occupy a post which commanded the ford. In the meantime, with a small but choice body of his friends, he kept in the rear, and continued to charge and repulse those that were most forward in the pursuit. In one of these efforts, Wallace advanced alone from the midst of his little band, and, with a single blow, slew Sir Brian le Jay, a knight templar[24] of high military renown, who had shown himself most active in harassing the retreating Scots. This action rendered the others more cautious in their approaches. Sir John Graham, however, giving way to a gallant but imprudent ardour, advanced too far amongst the enemy, where he was surrounded and slain; and Wallace, after repeated endeavours to revenge the death of his friend, rejoined his followers. This he effected with great difficulty, from the influx of the tide, and the weakness of his horse, which is said to have been so worn out with the fatigues of the day, and the wounds it had received, that the noble animal expired as soon as it had placed its master beyond the reach of his pursuers. By the attention of his trusty follower Kerlé, who stood an anxious spectator on the danger of his chief, Wallace was furnished with a fresh horse; and the two friends, as they moved slowly along the banks of the river, were gazing with silent and sorrowful interest on the scene of carnage they had left, when Bruce, from the opposite bank, having recognised the Guardian, raised his voice, and requested an interview. This was readily granted, and the warriors approached each other from opposite sides of the river, at a place narrow, deep and rocky. When on the margin of the stream, Wallace waved his hand, to repress the curiosity of his followers, while he eyed his misled countryman with stern, but dignified composure. Bruce felt awed by the majestic appearance and deportment of the patriot, and his voice, though loud, became tremulous as he thus addressed him:—“I am surprised, Sir William, that you should entertain thoughts, as it is believed you do, of attaining to the crown of Scotland; and that, with this chimerical object in view, you should thus continue to expose yourself to so many dangers. It is not easy, you find, to resist the King of England, who is one of the greatest princes in the world. And were you even successful in your attempts, are you so vain as to imagine, that the Scots will ever suffer you to be their King?” The Guardian did not allow him to say more. “No,” replied he, “my thoughts never soared so high, nor do I intend to usurp a crown I very well know my birth can give me no right to, and my services can never merit. I only mean to deliver my country from oppression and slavery, and to support a just cause, which you have abandoned. You, my lord, whose right may entitle you to be King, ought to protect the kingdom; ’tis because you do it not, that I must, and will, while I breathe, endeavour the defence of that country I was born to serve, and for which, if Providence will have it so, to die. As for you, who, in place of exerting your talents to turn the tide of battle in your country’s favour, choose rather to live a slave, if with safety to your life and fortune, than free, with the hazard of losing the latter, you may remain in possession of what you so much value, while the hollow praises of our enemies may blind you to the enormity of your conduct; but remember, my lord, they whom you are thus aiding to bind the yoke of slavery on the necks of your countrymen, will not long consider that conduct praise-worthy in you, which they would condemn as infamous in themselves; and if they are successful in rivetting our chains, you will find your reward in the well-earned contempt of the oppressor, and the hearty execrations of the oppressed. Pause, therefore, and reflect; if you have but the heart to claim the crown, you may win it with glory, and wear it with justice. I can do neither; but what I can I will—live and die a free born man.” These generous sentiments, uttered in a clear, manly, and determined tone of voice, came home to the heart of Bruce, with all the sternness of deserved reproof; and he was about to reply, when the ringing of harness, followed by the appearance of a number of helmets, over-topping the ridge of a neighbouring hillock, made it prudent to break off the conference.

Such are the particulars of this memorable battle, as related, with some trifling variations, by most of, if not by all, our old Scottish historians. As modern commentators, however, consider themselves justified in denying some of the material points; particularly the feud among the leaders—the presence of Bruce in the engagement—and, consequently, his conference with Wallace, we shall in this place devote a few pages to their consideration.

These objections are chiefly founded on the authority of Hemingford and Trevit, two English monks, who are said to have had their information from eye-witnesses. This may be all true; but when we find one of them (Hemingford) asserting, that “fifty thousand Scots were slain in the battle, many drowned, three hundred thousand foot taken prisoners, besides a thousand horse,” we may reasonably suppose the possibility of the eye-witnesses being so much occupied in counting their killed and captured enemies, that matters of such comparatively trifling importance may not have had the requisite share of their attention. Lord Hailes, however, lends the weight of his highly respectable name in support of those who deny the truth of this portion of our national annals, and thus expresses himself on the points in question: “It would be tedious and unprofitable to recite all that has been said on this subject by our own writers, from Fordun to Abercrombie, how Wallace, Stewart, and Comyn quarrelled on the punctilio of leading the van of an army, which stood on the defensive; how Stewart compared Wallace to an owl, with borrowed feathers; how the Scottish leaders, busied in this frivolous altercation, had no leisure to form their army; how Comyn traitorously withdrew with ten thousand men; how Wallace, from resentment, followed his example; how, by such disastrous incidents, the Scottish army was enfeebled, and Stewart and his party abandoned to destruction. Our histories abound in trash of this kind. There is scarcely one of our writers who has not produced an invective against Comyn, or an apology for Wallace, or a lamentation for the deserted Stewart. What dissensions may have prevailed among the Scottish commanders, it is impossible to know. It appears not to me, that their dissensions had any influence on their conduct in the day of battle. The truth seems to be this:—The English cavalry greatly exceeded the Scotch in numbers—were infinitely better equipped, and more adroit. The Scottish cavalry were intimidated and fled:—Had they remained in the field, they might have preserved their honour, but never could have turned the chance of that day. It was natural, however, for such of their party as survived the engagement, to impute the disaster to the defection of the cavalry:—National pride would ascribe their flight to treachery rather than to pusillanimity. It is not improbable, that Comyn commanded the cavalry; hence a report may have spread, that Comyn betrayed his country: the report has been embellished by each successive relation. When men are seized with a panic, their commander must of necessity, or will from prudence, accompany them in their flight. Earl Warren fled with his army from Stirling to Berwick, yet Edward did not punish him as a traitor or a coward.

“The tale of Comyn’s treachery and Wallace’s ill-timed resentment, may have gained credit, because it is a pretty tale, and not improbable in itself; but it always amazes me that the story of the congress of Bruce and Wallace, after the battle of Falkirk, should have gained credit. I lay aside the full evidence which we now possess, ‘that Bruce was not at that time of the English party, nor present at the battle’—for it must be admitted, that our historians knew nothing of those circumstances which demonstrate the impossibility of the congress—but the wonder is, that men of sound judgment should not have seen the absurdity of a long conversation between the commander of a flying army, and one of the leaders of a victorious army. When Fordun told the story, he placed ‘a narrow but inaccessible glen’ between the speakers. Later historians have substituted the river Carron, in place of an inaccessible glen; and they make Bruce and Wallace talk across the river like two young declaimers from the pulpits in a school of rhetoric.”

With all due deference to his Lordship, we conceive that the strength of his first objection lies chiefly in adhering too literally to the words “leading the van,” made use of by some of our old writers; others, who mention the quarrel, do not so express themselves. Now, we do not see any thing so improbable in a discussion arising among these chiefs, who considered themselves independent of each other, about who should have the supreme command in directing the operations of the day, which, we presume, is all that is to be understood in this instance by “leading the van.” The obvious advantage of having a commander-in-chief in so momentous an occasion, could not have escaped the merest tyro in military tactics; and that no person was appointed to this office, even his Lordship does not deny. That Wallace, from past services, as well as from being Guardian of the kingdom, had reason to consider himself entitled to this distinction, cannot be disputed; and it is not likely, from the talents and foresight he had displayed on former occasions, that he would have come to the field against so powerful and so experienced an adversary, without having previously formed some plan for conducting the operations of the day, so as to counteract the great superiority of force, which the English monarch had brought into the field. The thwarting of his plans, by the envy and hauteur of his colleagues, affords a plain and obvious solution of his conduct; and his resignation of the Guardianship after the battle, (which his Lordship does not deny,) very strongly corroborates the account given by our Scottish historians, of the treatment which he received on the field; and this treatment must have been attended with circumstances which convinced him of the utter hopelessness of his being able to direct the resources of the country to advantage. Strong indeed must have been the reasons which induced this brave, intrepid, and prudent pilot, to relinquish the helm of affairs at so critical a juncture. That an unfortunate animosity existed, we have the most ample testimony; and though his Lordship conceives it to have been so very trifling in its nature, as not to influence the parties in the discharge of their duty, yet we have respectable and incontrovertible evidence that it not only did so, but was the principal, if not the sole cause of the disasters which overwhelmed the country. Wyntown thus expresses himself, on the occasion:

“For dyspyt and gret inwy
The Comynys Kyn all hályly
Fyrst left the Feld; and, as behowyd,
Syne Willame Walayis hym remowyd:
For he persáwyd gret malys
Agayne hym scharpyd mony wys.”

And again,

“Before than couth ná man say,
Ná nevyr wes sene befor that day,
Sá hále wencust the Scottis men:
Ná it had noucht fallyn then,
Had noucht Falshed and Inwy
Devysyd theme sá syndryly.”

Here there is no national pride interfering, to conceal the extent of the discomfiture of the Scots; and it is surprising his Lordship should conceive, that any one would think it necessary to invent what he calls a “pretty tale,” for the purpose of soothing the national feelings. Thirty thousand Scots, we presume, may be defeated by ninety or a hundred thousand English, without being very much disgraced by the affair; whereas the English authorities may have been silent on circumstances which tended to diminish the glory of their victory, even had they come to their knowledge.