APPEARANCE
OF WALLACE AS THE CHAMPION OF SCOTTISH INDEPENDENCE – VISIT OF THE PARIOT
CHIEF TO ANNANDALE – HE REPEATEDLY DEFEATS ITS ENGLISH OCCUPANTS, AND
TAKES FROM THEM THE CASTLE OF LOCHMABEN – EXPLOITS OF SIR WILLIAM DOUGLAS
IN UPPER NITHSDALE, AND CAPTURE BY HIM OF THE CASTLES OF DURISDEER AND
SANQUHAR – RETURN OF WALLACE TO DUMFRIESSHIRE – HE DEFEATS THE ENEMY NEAR
DUMFRIES, AND PURSUES THEM THROUGH THE TOWN – SCOTLAND FREED FROM FORGEIGN
DOMINATION, IS AGAIN PARTIALLY SUBJECTED TO IT ON THE DEFEAT OF WALLACE AT
FALKIRK – ARTFUL POLICY OF EDWARD TOWARDS THE SCOTTISH CHIEFS.
King
Edward had not been long gone across the Channel till the Earl of Surrey,
his guardian of Scotland, sent pressing dispatches urging him to return.
The King thus learned, to his surprise and regret, that rebel bands (as
they were termed) had risen up in numerous directions, who were galling
the English with guerilla attacks; and that if they were allowed to
concentrate their efforts, and were not summarily put down, they might
possibly undo all that it had cost so much blood and treasure to
accomplish. One Walays or Wallace figured prominently in these urgent
letters to King Edward.
That
patriot, afterwards so famous, was at first heard of by his enemies as a
bold, daring malcontent, who was always ready against any odds to assert
his own personal independence, and proclaim his country’s rights by word
and deed. He would, doubtless, be deemed by them a mere foolhardy bravo,
till his more private scuffles with the insolent soldiery at Ayr and
Dundee gave place to skirmishes on a wider scale; in which, sallying forth
with a handful of followers as recklessly defiant as himself, he
encountered large bands of English with unvarying success. Wallace, in
this way, gradually became a felt power in the land; his name, before
Edward returned from France, had become the watchword of freedom, and had
been heard sounding as such not merely in the east and west, but in
Nithsdale and Annandale – where, notwithstanding the special precaution
taken by the Government, a spirit of revolt was beginning to show itself.
For the
purpose of keeping it in check, Lord Clifford proceeded from Carlisle into
Dumfriesshire, and devastated the country, putting many of its suspected
inhabitants to death. Patriotism, however, was not uprooted from it by
this sanguinary process: the plant deluged by blood retained its vitality.
Soon after Clifford had finished his cruel mission, John de St. John
became keeper of the district [Caledonia, vol. iii., p. 82.] – his rule
extending southwards to Carlisle and eastwards to Roxburghshire; but
though he appears to have had a numerous force, he never succeeded in
securing the thorough submission of the people. St John, while pretty safe
in the strong Castle of Dumfries, was liable to be every now and then
alarmed by rumours of risings, true or false, against his authority; and
he did not know the moment when the rebels of the town and neighbourhood
might muster in full force to strike for liberty and revenge. This
officer, when lording it over the district, must have lived in great
style. We learn from the wardrobe accounts of Edward I., that St. John was
allowed forty caparisoned horses, the maintenance of which was £5 3s. 6d.
a day; and that for his personal following he had a knight banneret, six
knights, and thirty esquires, whose pay was from 4s. a day to 1s. – large
sums, though seemingly small, since their value with reference to all
commodities was at least ten times as great as the same amounts at the
present day.
Lord
Clifford was always at hand, however, to assist St. John in case of need;
and a second time he made a terrorist raid across the Border, in which he
burnt and sacked the town of Annan, with its church, and treated in a
similar way no fewer than ten villages in the vicinity, most of which
never again rose out of their ashes. [Knightn, p. 2522; Haile’s Annals of
Scotland, p. 263; and Redpath’s Border History, p. 212.] These merciless
proceedings had a certain amount of present influence; but when a reaction
came, it was thereby rendered more decisive and overwhelming: and,
meanwhile, preparations for it were rapidly going on, for Wallace himself,
leaving Ayrshire, appeared in the neighbourhood of Dumfries, calling the
people to arms, and sounding there as elsewhere the knell of Edward’s
hated dominion.
Under
what particular circumstances the hero was led to leave his native shore,
the scene of his chief efforts about this time, and proceed southward, we
cannot say. Tradition and history combine to show that in 1297, or the
following year, before he fairly appeared as the national champion, he had
several affrays with the enemy in the neighbourhood of Lochmaben. [Blind
Harry, book v.] On one occasion, it is said, a party of Englishmen
maltreated the horses of himself and followers by cutting off their tails
– for which he took ample vengeance. Sir Hugh Moreland, hearing of what
had occurred, hurried after the Scots, being able to trace them to
Knockwood, in the neighbouring parish of Kirkmichael, by the blood which
streamed from their wounded horses. Wallace, reinforced by sixteen
friends, who had been lurking in the wood, turned upon his pursues and put
them to the rout. Several large stones may still be seen in Knockwood, at
a place called “The Six Corses,” which are supposed to mark the spot where
Sir Hugh Moreland and five of his followers fell; and near by there are
slight remains of fortifications visible, one of which is said to have
been occupied by Wallace, in order to protect himself from another English
force which hastened from Lochmaben Castle on being apprized of the
conflict that had occurred.
This
body, consisting of three hundred horsemen, commanded by an officer named
Graystock, surrounded the fortlet; but its occupants managed to effect
their escape, and it was not till a day or two afterwards that the latter
were overtaken. Then ensued a stoutly contested engagement. The Scots,
whilst on their retreat, had been joined by Sir John Graham and Sir Roger
Kirkpatrick, each bringing with them a few retainers; and, but for this
circumstance, even the Herculean prowess of Wallace might have been of
little avail against the enemy’s superior force. During the thick of the
fight, the English leader fell mortally wounded; and his surviving
followers forthwith fled, seeking refuge in the Forest of Knockwood, from
which the Scots had previously withdrawn. Wallace did not follow far in
pursuit; but, collecting his men together, turned in the direction of
Lochmaben Castle, fired with the ambition of seizing that important
fortress, once a bulwark of Scottish independence, but now, owing to the
pusillanimity of Bruce, converted into an English stronghold for keeping
his native Annandale in check.
Fortunately for the designs of the Scottish chief, it was not in a
condition to offer a formidable resistance: most of its usual defenders
were lying still in death, or weary fugitives in the neighbouring
woodlands; and those who remained were easily overpowered. Scarcely had
the castle received its new garrison, when bands of broken men, footsore
and wounded, from Knockwood, asked for admission at the gates, which they
received – only, however, to share the fate of their comrades who had been
taken in the field on the previous day. The stern exigencies of the
situation combined with other circumstances to steel the heart of the
usually generous Wallace; and the unsuspecting refugees were
indiscriminately put to the sword. Leaving as many men as he could spare
in the fortress, he returned to Clydesdale – from whence, however, he was
soon recalled to Dumfriesshire.
The early
exploits of Wallace, as recorded in the old chronicles, [Wyntoun, Fordun,
Knighton, Hemingford, and Henry the Minstrel (the latter not always to be
implicitly trusted), are the chief authorities relied upon by modern
writers for these and other early incidents in the career of the Scottish
hero.] seem very discursive and unsystematic. They had probably more of
method in them than is generally supposed; and at all events they made his
name well known, and originated a pretty general belief among his
countrymen, that the hero of these seemingly random efforts was ripening
for greater achievements, should occasion offer. They also brought to his
standard some of the bravest spirits in the land, who were ready to follow
wherever he led, and who closely emulated his own strong love of country,
as well as his indomitable courage.
Among the
chief of these was Sir William Douglas [Supposed to be grandson of William
of Dufglas: see p. 32.], who was governor of Berwick when it was
surrendered to Edward I. in 1296. Whilst Wallace was putting the English
garrisons of Ayrshire to trouble, Douglas soon made those stationed near
his own barony to feel that they had no easy sinecure. Watching a
favourable opportunity, he attacked the small Castle of Durisdeer, in
Nithsdale; and had the gratification of soon seeing the flag of Scottish
independence unfurled on its walls – this success only stimulating him to
undertake a more difficult enterprise. The neighbouring Castle of Sanquhar
was a place of considerable strength, and defended by a powerful garrison,
under the command of an officer named Beaufort. If the patriots could only
get possession of this fortress, it would enable them to dispute the
supremacy of the English in the Upper Ward of Nithsdale; but to besiege it
in due form was beyond their resources, and there was no chance of
surprising it, as the loss of Durisdeer had doubled the vigilance of the
enemy. The idea of using force having been abandoned, an ingenious
stratagem was resorted to.
Douglas
knew that the inmates were regularly supplied with wood for fuel by a
rustic named Anderson; and he thought it would be no impossible thing for
one of his own trusty followers to personate the wood-cutter, and thus
gain entrance into the castle for himself and others. Anderson was easily
induced to lend his assistance; and, when he pocketed the golden pieces by
which his honesty was corrupted, he probably soothed his conscience by the
reflection that the men he sought to betray were the enemies of his
country, and a curse to the neighbourhood. Thus far the preliminary
arrangements proceeded favourably; and to Thomas Dickson, a shrewd,
fearless soldier, of humble rank, the chief duty was assigned of
developing the succeeding incidents of the plot. Having attired himself in
Anderson’s clothes, he hied to the castle gate, leading his timber-laden
wagon, and was readily admitted. The unsuspecting porter who gave him
entrance was stabbed by him, and stript of his keys; and the intrepid
Dickson sounding his horn as a signal, Douglas and his men, who lay
ambushed at a short distance, rushed in, and, as they passed to the inner
court, a desperate attempt was made by the startled garrison to stop the
impetuous intruders. “Down with the drawbridge! lower the portcullis!”
cried many a voice; but even if the dying porter’s ear had not been
adder-deaf, and his hand had not been powerless, the requests could not
have been obeyed. The wagon had been intentionally driven forward in such
a way that the iron door could not be lowered; and the assailants had
already crossed the drawbridge. They appeared in such numbers, and the
garrison was taken at such a disadvantage, that only a feeble resistance
was offered. All the defenders, together with their captain, were put to
death – a doom which they had provoked by their cruel treatment of the
inhabitants of the district.
In this
ingenious and daring way the strong Castle of Sanquhar was won. [Hume of
Godscroft’s History of the House of Douglas, pp. 22, 23.] The news of its
capture spread like wild-fire far and wide. St. John and Lord Clifford,
the latter of whom was residing in Lochmaben Castle at the time, saw at
once that the English occupation would soon be gone in the district,
unless an effectual check were put upon Douglas; and they resolved, if
possible, to make the fortress where he had triumphed his dungeon, if not
his grave. In a trice, armed companies were seen trooping from the
Castles of Morton and Tibbers, in Upper Nithsdale, and from those of
Dalswinton and Dumfries further down, all proceeding in the direction of
Sanquhar; and before the intrepid Scot had fairly settled down in his new
abode he found himself closely blockaded, and was saluted with the
summons, “Surrender or die!” He was scant of provisions, and had really to
consider the alternative of being starved outright in his castellated
prison, or of placing himself, his gallant followers, and it, at the
disposal of the enemy.
The
English did not attempt to storm the stronghold, as they knew the
desperate risk of so doing; and they therefore quietly surrounded it, in
the full expectation that time would fight more effectually for them than
the sword. Whilst the beleaguering force were thus occupied, Wallace, then
in the Lothians, was apprised of their proceedings, and of the deadly
straits to which his faithful friend was reduced. The trusty Dickson had
managed to run the blockade (if we may use a modern phase). Escaping by a
private postern gate, he hied away northward, and carried the tidings to
Wallace, who, with a large body of followers, set out by way of Peebles
and Crawford, for the purpose of raising the siege.
Just as
he had reached the latter place, the English, hearing of his designs,
struck their tents and hurried away from Sanquhar, not daring to wait his
approach. He thereupon altered his line of march, and, with a chosen band
of light-horsemen, dashed through the Pass of Durisdeer, got a glimpse of
the fugitives when in the vicinity of Morton, and reached their rear near
the Castle of Closeburn. Not a few were cut down. The woods of Dalswinton
received the main body of the retreating English, but yielded them little
protection. Partially sheltered by the trees, which must also have impeded
their movements considerably, they faced round, in the attitude of stags
at bay, boldly confronting their pursuers. Resistance was vain: the fall
of five hundred proved how bravely, yet ineffectually, the English strove
to beat back their impetuous foemen. Nothing for it but retreat. For many
miles the flight had been well conducted; now it became disorderly in the
extreme. As the remnant of the great besieging force entered Dumfries, it
must have presented a woeful aspect. Thoroughly disorganized and
panic-stricken, the fugitives, still closely pursued, passed the town: the
Castle did not open its gates to succour them; no party of their
countrymen interfered for their defence; and the last baleful drop was
thrown into their cup when a body of Dumfriesians, made up of
Kirkpatricks, Corries, Johnstones, Hallidays, and Maxwells, joined in the
hot chase against them. The pursuit was kept up as far as Cockpool, upon
the Solway. [Near Comlongan, the ancient seat of the Murrays.] Even as the
bowers of Dalswinton gave them but deceitful shelter at an earlier stage,
so the waters of the Frith received many into its fatal embrace. Some were
slaughtered on the shore, some were drowned in the deep, and only a few
escaped to the opposite side with life. [Godscroft’s House of Douglas, p.
24.]
Wallace
rested from his fatigues of this memorable day in the Castle of
Carlaverock, which was still possessed by Herbert de Maxwell, though he
had, by his devotedness to Baliol, incurred the displeasure of the English
monarch. Next day the hero was at Dumfries, where he would doubtless
receive from the patriotic inhabitants an ovation due to him for doing so
much for the deliverance of their common country. Thence he proceeded to
Sanquhar, and had a cordial meeting with the grateful Douglas, now
relieved from all anxiety, and undisputed lord of Upper Nithsdale – the
few English left there remaining close in garrison, and exercising no rule
over the district. After this we find no traces of the hero in
Dumfriesshire. His various missions to it had been of essential service in
fostering the people’s spirit of independence, and in humbling their
oppressors; and these good results obtained, he proceeded to other parts
of Scotland to carry on his patriotic propaganda – first, however,
rewarding the bravery of Douglas by making him governor of the territory
which stretches from Drumlanrig to Ayr.
In March,
1298, the King of England returned from France, and once more entered
Scotland at the head of a large army. He found that the reports he had
received regarding the achievements of Wallace had been understated rather
than exaggerated. The opposers of his authority were no mere baditti, but
an armed host, commanded by a great military leader, who had a few months
before crowned a numberless series of smaller triumphs by a decisive
victory over the English forces at Stirling, and had even, with marvelous
audacity, afterwards ravaged Northumberland, and returned laden with
spoil. Edward hastened to undo the mischief by encountering the Scottish
army at Falkirk, which he succeeded in defeating, greatly owing, it is
said, to a feud among the leaders – Sir John Stewart and Sir John Comyn
disputing the right of Wallace to take the chief command. A heavy blow was
thus inflicted on the patriotic cause; and if the victors had followed up
their advantage Scotland would have been once more reduced to a state of
vassalage. Wallace effected a masterly retreat, carrying off the remains
of his army in safety; and, whilst the English were resting on their way
to Stirling, they were startled, at dead of night, by a party of the
fugitives, who broke into their camp, slaughtered many of its occupants,
and rejoined their companions without the loss of a single soldier. The
English, on reaching Stirling, found it had been laid in ashes, and could
afford them no shelter or food. They then passed down into Ayrshire;
Edward intending to chastise Bruce, Earl of Carrick, who had been playing
fast and loose with him of late. The Castle of Ayr in flames was all the
welcome given by the Scottish baron to his liege lord; and as the former,
after firing the fortress, retreated into the fastnesses of Galloway, the
latter did not care about following him thither, particularly as he was
short of provisions. Indeed, had the conquerors at Falkirk continued much
longer in Scotland, they would have suffered from famine; the country
being laid waste on their entire line of march. Nominally victorious, but
in reality foiled in their purpose, they retired into England by Dumfries;
some of the strongholds of the district surrendering as they passed along,
and the Castle of Lochmaben, which had been won by Wallace, being taken by
them after a brief siege. [Hemingford, vol. i., p. 166.] The fruits of the
expedition, whether in Nithsdale or the country at large, were small,
compared with the blood and treasure spent in securing them; and, as we
shall soon see, the English monarch was under the necessity, before two
years elapsed, of making another hostile march across the Border – so
obstinately did the Scots refuse to believe in their defeats, or in his
supremacy over them.
In
studying this portion of our national history, we cannot fail to be struck
with the ignoble course pursued by the principal barons. It was the aim of
Edward to separate them from their country’s cause, and to attach them to
himself by appeals to their self-interest. He played one of them off
against another – Baliol against Bruce, Bruce against Comyn, all against
Wallace – in order that he might weaken them, and secure his own ends at
last. The position in which some of the nobles stood to him before his
interference with Scottish affairs enabled him all the more easily to
carry on this politic game, as they held lands under him, and were English
barons as well as Scottish subjects. All the three powerful patricians
named above, and many others, paid feudal homage to him for their estates
south of the Border; and it is easy to see that the King had thus an
opportunity of gaining a moral influence over them, which, with the lure
of material rewards, contributed to their subserviency.
Baliol,
the competitor for the Crown, gained and lost “the golden round of
sovereignty” because he was first obedient and then rebellious; the heads
of the Brucian family were rendered for a while submissive by arguments
addressed to their hopes and fears; and when, by the banishment of the
Baliols, the Lord of Badenoch fancied his claims were advanced, he found
that they were more likely to be so by plotting against the Earl of
Carrick, and otherwise pleasing King Edward. How Bruce, grandson of the
Competitor, tried at first, like his father, to remain neutral, taking
part neither with the invaders nor the patriots – how the wardens of the
Western Marches, dreading that he would one day throw his vast influence
into the scale against England, summoned him to Carlisle, and, on the
consecrated host and the sword of Thomas-á-Becket, made him renew his oath
of fealty to Edward – how, in proof of his loyalty, he wasted the lands of
Sir William Douglas – how he shortly afterwards repented of his oath, and
joined the Scottish army, yet never, till a later period, took boldly and
persistently the proud position to which he was called alike by
enlightened self-love and his country’s cry of anguish – are facts so
familiar to all readers of Scottish history that we only require to
mention them as links in the general narrative. Both father and son
ingloriously vacillated between sordid interest and sacred duty; but at
length, as we shall see, the logic of events made the son see that he must
either be king of independent Scotland, or sink into dishonourable
insignificance: fortunate it was for his country and himself that he did
not submit to the latter alternative. |