And again—
“Through buckler, hand, and brainpan also,
To the shoulders, the sharp sword gert he go.”
And again—
“Wallas commanded they suld no man save;
Twenty and two they stickit in that steid.”
In fact the “Book of Wallace” reads like the chronicle of a slaughter‐house. That our lady poets never studied it, we may be sure; they derived their idea of the Scottish insurgent from modern historians, who had magnified the feats of arms, and had said nothing of the deeds of blood.
But let us turn from the mere legend‐writer and panegyrist, and endeavour to ascertain, as far as we are able, the real truth of Wallace’s acts and of his character. And probably the safest course to take, on the whole, will be to draw our information chiefly from those Scottish historians of our own day who have seen the error of indiscriminate eulogy, and have endeavoured to present a narrative of a more credible and trustworthy kind. The only other course to take would be to accept the account of the English chroniclers, ten or twelve in number, who lived in Wallace’s own day. These, however, write under the influence of a strong prejudice. Some of them, like the Chronicler of Lanercost in Cumberland, had actually seen something of the Scottish leader, and they cannot speak of him but as “a man of blood,” “a leader of banditti.”
Let us try, then, to glean something of this history from the narratives of those more recent Scottish writers, who have shown some degree of moderation. William Walays was the younger son of a small proprietor in Renfrewshire. “Malcolm (the father) got the five‐pound land of Elderslie” (Wallace Documents). “The name Walleys or Waleis,” says the editor of that collection, “simply designates any native of the ancient kingdom of Wales.” Such persons were often met with in England. There was a sheriff of London named Waleys, or Waleis, in 1272, and about the same time a Waleys or Walays in Wilts, and another in Essex, and a third in Somerset. These, like William Walays of Elderslie, were natives of Wales, or sons of natives who had migrated into England or into the northern parts of the island.
“The family,” says Mr. Tytler, “was neither rich nor noble.”[85] Allowing for the altered value of money, we may deem the father to be equal to a yeoman of the present day, who holds a copyhold farm of the value of £80 or £100 per annum; and of such a man, William was the second son. He is described as a frequenter of fairs and markets, and as often engaged in brawls. “His make,” says Mr. Tytler, “approached the gigantic; his passions were violent; and a strong hatred of the English began to show itself.” The vehement irascibility and enduring animosity of the Welsh character had not been much abated by a change of abode.