The English were thus sacrificed to the folly of one man, who did not survive to bear the blame. One knight only is recorded to have distinguished himself. Sir Marmaduke Twenge, one of those who had crossed the river, was urged by a companion to throw himself into the stream in order to escape. “What!” exclaimed he, “volunteer to drown myself when I can cut my way through them all! Never let such foul slander rest on us!” “But alas for me!” said his friend, who was on foot, and saw no such possibility of escape. “Leap up behind me,” said Twenge, and so burdened he gave his horse the spur, drove him through the midst of the enemy, and rejoined his friends in safety.
Earl Warenne, though brave and inured to arms, seems to have been an impulsive man, who under defeat lost all self‐control. At Lewes, in A.D. 1264, so soon as the ranks were broken, the earl was one of the first to take to flight; and now, in like manner, horrified at the massacre which he beheld on the opposite bank of the river, and unable to remedy his fault, he gave the command of the retreat to Sir Marmaduke Twenge, and rode off to Berwick. This sort of panic was even more disastrous than his previous rashness, for in those days the flight of the general implied the dissolution of the army.
The English chroniclers state the loss of the English at five thousand infantry and one hundred horse, but in effect, when the earl left it, the army was disbanded; and so soon as the fate of the day was decided, but not before, “the earl of Lennox and the steward of Scotland,” says Mr. Tytler, “threw off the mask, and led a body of followers to destroy and plunder the flying English.”
Sir Walter Scott, with his usual talent and perspicuity, thus describes the battle of Stirling: “The earl, an experienced warrior, hesitated to engage his troops in the defile of a wooden bridge, where scarce two horsemen could ride abreast; but urged by the imprudent vehemence of Cressingham, he advanced, contrary to common sense, as well as to his own judgment. The vanguard of the English was attacked before they could get into order, the bridge was broken down, and thousands perished in the river and by the sword.”[92]
Such was the battle of Stirling, the only victory which gives lustre to Wallace’s name; and this, it is quite evident, was, it may be said, laid at his feet; there being probably scarcely a man in his army who did not see the English general’s blunder, or who would not, if in command, have taken the same advantage of it.
At the head of a victorious army, Wallace was now obviously the ruler of Scotland, and he instantly and without hesitation took this place. No legal or constitutional delegation seemed to him to be necessary. His dictatorship was established, probably by the “acclamation” of his army, as in the days of imperial Rome. We do not feel entitled to blame this step. Moments of exigency, as in France in our own day, often call for unusual remedies; but as no one can point to any public or national choice of Wallace as regent or dictator, we leave it as, in all probability, the act of the army, such as it was; and we shall presently see that between this “regent” and the lords and people of Scotland, there was very little sympathy.
Of this crisis, October, 1297, Mr. Tytler thus speaks:—“The majority of the nobles being still against him, Wallace found it difficult to procure new levies, and was constrained to adopt severe measures against all who were refractory. Gibbets were erected in each barony or county town, and some burgesses of Aberdeen who had disobeyed the summons were hanged. After this example, he soon found himself at the head of a numerous army.”[93]
A force such as now followed the insurgent leader was obviously well suited for a plundering expedition, or, to use the common phrase, “a border raid.” Wallace led his force into England in October, 1297, and for the peculiar character of that inroad he must be held personally responsible. Plunder would doubtless have satisfied most of his followers, but he imparted to the war a character of unusual ferocity. Again we will avoid using the bitter language of the English chroniclers, and will draw our descriptions from Scottish writers only.
Fordun tells us, that “he wasted all the land of Allerdale with fire.” Wyntoun adds;—
“All Allerdale as man of warre,