AWED, but not intimidated by the
prophecy of the seer, Wallace, next day, drew up his army in order for the
new battle, near a convent of Cistertian monks, [Newbattle, the
fine old family mansion of the Marquis of Lothian, now occupies the site
of that ancient abbey; and so derives its name.] on the narrow plain of
Dalkeith. The two rivers Eske, flowing on each side of the little phalanx,
formed a temporary barrier between it and the pressing legions of De
Warenne. The Earl’s troops seemed countless; while the Southron lords
who led them on, being elated by the representations which the Countess of
Strathearn had given to them, of the disunited state of the Scottish army,
and the consequent dismay which had seized their hitherto all-conquering
commander, bore down upon the Scots with an impetuosity which threatened
their universal destruction. Deceived by the blandishing falsehoods of his
bride, De Warenne had entirely changed his former opinion of his brave
opponent; and by her sophistries having brought his mind to adopt stratagems
of intimidation, unworthy of his nobleness. (so contagious is baseness, in
too fond a contact with the unprincipled!) he placed himself on an
adjoining height, intending from that commanding post to dispense his
orders, and behold his victory. " Soldiers !" cried he, "
the rebel’s hour is come.—The sentence of Heaven is gone forth against
him. Charge resolutely, and he and his host are yours."
The sky was obscured; an
awful stillness reigned through the air; and the
spirits of the mighty dead seemed leaning from their clouds, to witness
this last struggle of their sons. Fate did indeed hover over the opposing
armies. She descended on the head of Wallace, and dictated from amidst his
waving plumes. She pointed his spear, she wielded his flaming sword, she
charged with him in the dreadful shock of battle. De Warenue saw his
foremost thousands fall. He heard the shout of the Scots, the cries of his
men—and the plains of Stirling rose to his remembrance. He hastily
ordered the knights around him, to bear his wife from the field; and
descending the hill, to lead forward himself, was met, and almost
overwhelmed, by his flying troops: horses without riders, men without
shield or sword, but all in dismay, rushed past him. He called to them, he
waved the royal standard, he urged, he reproached ;—he rallied, and led
them back again. The fight recommenced —Long and bloody was the
conflict. De Warenne fought for conquest, and to recover a lost
reputation. Wallace contended for his coyntry; and to show himself always
worthy of her latest blessing, "before he should go hence, and be no
more seen!"
The issue declared for Scotland. But
the ground was covered with the slain, and Wallace chased a wounded foe,
with troops which dropped as they pursued. At sight of the melancholy
state of his intrepid soldiers, he tried to check their ardour, but in
vain. "It is for Wallace that we conquer!" cried they,
"and, we die, or prove him the only captain, in this ungrateful
country."
Night compelled them to halt; and
while they rested on their arms, Wallace was satisfied that he had
destroyed the power of De Warenne. As he leaned on his sword, and stood
with Edwin near the watch-fire over which that youthful hero kept a guard,
he contemplated, with generous forbearance, the terrified Southrons, as
they fled precipitately by the foot of
the hill, towards the Tweed. Wallace now told his friend, the history of
his adventure with the seer of the craigs; and finding, within himself,
how much the brightness of true religion excludes the glooms of
superstition, he added: "The proof of the Divine Spirit in prophecy,
is its completion !—Hence let the false seer I met last night, warn you,
my Edwin, by my exampIe, how you give credit to any prediction that might
slacken the sinews of duty. God can speak but one language. It is not a
man, that he should repent; neither a mortal, that he should change his
purpose!—This prophet of Baal, beguiled me into a credence of his
denunciation; but not to adopt the conduct, his offered alternative would
have persuaded me to pursue. I now see that he was a traitor in both ;
and, henceforth, shall read my fate in the oracles of God alone. Obeying
them, my Edwin, we need not fear the curses of our enemy, nor the lying of
suborned soothsayers."
The splendour of this
victory struck to the souls of the council at Stirling; but with no touch
of remorse. Scotland being again rescued from the vengeance of her
implacable foe, the disaffected lords in the citadel, affected to spurn at
her preservation; declaring to the Regent, that they would rather bear the
yoke of the veriest tyrant in the world, than owe a moment of freedom to
the man who (they pretended to believe) had conspired against their lives.
And they had a weighty reason for this decision. Though De Warenne was
beaten, his wife was a victor. She had made Edward triumphant, in the
venal hearts of her kinsmen: gold, and her persuasions, with promises of
future honours from the King of England, had sealed them entirely his. All
but the Regent, were ready to commit everything into the hands of Edward.
The rising favour of these other lords, with the court of England, induced
him to recollect that he might rule as the unrivalled friend of Bruce,
should that prince live; or, in case of his death, he might have it in his
own power to assume the Scottish throne untrammelled. These thoughts made
him fluctuate; and his country found him as undetermined in treason, as
unstable in fidelity.
Immediately on the victory
at Dalkeith, Kirkpatrick (eager to be the first communicator of such
welcome news to Lennox, who had planted himself as a watch at Stirling,)
withdrew secretly from Wallace’s camp; and, hoping to move the gratitude
of the refractory lords, entered, full of honest joy, into the midst of
their council.
He proclaimed the success
of his commander. His answer, was accusations and insult. All that had
been charged against the too fortunate Wallace, was re-urged with added
acrimony. Treachery to the state, hypocrisy in morals, fanaticism in
religion; no stigma was too extravagant, too contradictory, to be affixed
to his name. They who had been hurt in the fray in the hall, pointed to
their still smarting wounds, and called upon Lennox to say, if they did
not plead against so dangerous a man? "Dangerous to your crimes, and
ruinous to your ambition!" cried Kirkpatrick; "for, so help me
God, as I believe, that an honester man than William Wallace lives not in
Scotland! And that ye know :—and his virtues, overtopping your
littleness, ye would uproot the greatness which ye cannot equal."
This speech, which a burst of indignation had wrested from him, brought
down the wrath of the whole party upon himself. Lord Athol, yet stung with
his old wound, furiously struck him:—Kirkpatrick drew his sword, and the
two chiefs commenced a furious combat, each determined on the extirpation
of the other. Gasping with almost the last breathings of life, neither
could be torn from their desperate revenge, till many were hurt in
attempting to separate them; and then the two were carried on; insensible,
and covered with wounds.
When this sad news was
transmitted to Sir William Wallace, it found him on the banks of the Eske;
just returned from the citadel of Berwick, where, once more master of that
fortress, he had dictated the terms of a conqueror and a patriot.
In the scene of his former
victories, the romantic shades of Hawthorndean, he now pitched his
triumphant camp; and from its verdant bounds, despatched the requisite
orders to the garrisoned castles on the borders. While employed in this
duty, his heart was wrung by an account of the newly-aroused storm in the
citadel of Stirling: but as some equivalent, the chieftains of Mid-Lothian
poured in to him on every side; and, acknowledging him their Protector, he
again found himself the idol of gratitude, and the almost deified object
of trust. At such a moment, when with one voice they were disclaiming all
participation in the insurgent proceedings at Stirling, another messenger
arrived from Lord Lennox, to conjure him, if he would avoid open violence,
or secret treachery, to march his victorious troops immediately to that
city, and seize the assembled abthanes [Abthanes,
which means the great lords; was a title of pre-eminence given to the
higher order of chiefs.] at once as traitors to their country.
"Resume the regency," added he, "which you only know how to
conduct; and crush a treason, which, increasing hourly, now walks openly
in the day; threatening all that is virtuous, or faithful to you!"
He did not hesitate to
decide against this counsel; for, in following it, it could not be one
adversary he must strike, but thousands. "I am only a brother to my
countrymen," said he to himself; "and have no right to force
them to their duty. When their King appears, then these rebellious heads
may be made to bow."—While he mused upon the letter of Lennox,
Ruthven entered the recess of the tent, whither he had retired to read it.—"I
bring you better news of our friend at Hunting-tower;" cried the good
lord; "here is a packet from Douglas, and another from my wife."—Wallace
gladly read them; and found that Bruce was relieved from his delirium; but
so weak, that his friends dared not hazard a relapse, by imparting to him
any idea of the proceedings at Stirling: all he knew was, that Wallace was
victorious in arms; and panting for his recovery to render such success
really beneficial to his country. Helen and Isabella, with the sage of
Ercildown, were the Prince’s unwearied attendants; and, though his life
was yet in extreme peril, it was to be hoped that their attentions, and
his own constitution, would finally cure the wound, and conquer its
attendant fever. Comforted with these tidings, Wallace declared his
intentions of visiting his suffering friend, as soon as he could establish
any principle in the minds of his followers, to induce them to bear, even
for a little time, with the insolence of the abthanes. "I will
then;" said he, "watch by the side of our beloved Bruce, till
his recovered health allow him to proclaim himself king; and with that
act, I trust all these feuds will be for ever laid to sleep!" Ruthven
participated in these hopes; and the friends returned into the
council-tent. But all there was changed. Most of the Lothian chieftains
had also received messengers from their friends in Stirling. Allegations
against Wallace: arguments to prove "the policy of submitting
themselves and their properties to the protection of a great and generous
king, though a foreigner, rather than to risk all, by attaching themselves
to the fortune of a private person, who made their services the ladder of
his ambition"— were the contents of their packets; and they had
been sufficient to shake the easy faith to which they were addressed. On
the re-entrance of Wallace, the chieftains stole suspicious glances at
each other, and, without a word, glided severally out of the tent.