The Scottish Chiefs Part 50

He raised the fallen man, and asked whether he were hurt. The traveler, perceiving by the kind tone of the inquirer that no harm had been intended, answered, "Not much, only a little lamed, and all the recompense I ask for this unlucky upset is to give me a helping hand to my father's cot--it is just by. I have been out at a neighbor's to dance in the new year with a bonny la.s.s, who, however, may not thank you for my broken s.h.i.+ns!"

As the honest lad went on telling his tale, with a great many particulars dear to his simple wishes, Wallace helped him along; and carefully conducting him through the gathering snow, descended the declivity which led to the shepherd's cottage. When within a few yards of it, Wallace heard the sound of singing, but it was not the gay caroling of mirth; the solemn chant of more serious music mingled with the roaring blast.

"I am not too late yet!" cried the communicative lad; "I should not have run so fast had I not wanted to get home in time enough to make one in the New-year's hymn."

They had now arrived at the little door, and the youth, without the ceremony of knocking, opened the latch; as he did so, he turned and said to his companion, "We have no occasion for bolts, since the brave Lord Wallace has cleared the country of our Southron robbers." He pushed the door as he spoke, and displayed to the eyes of the chief a venerable old man on his knees before a crucifix; around him knelt a family of young people and an aged dame, all joining in the sacred thanksgiving. The youth, without a word, dropped on his knees near the door, and making a sign to his companion to do the same, Wallace obeyed; and as the anthems rose in succession on the ear, to which the low breathings of the lightly touched harp echoed its heavenly strains, he felt the tumult of his bosom gradually subside; and when the venerable sire laid down the instrument and clasped his hands in prayer, the natural pathos of his invocations, and the grateful devotions with which the young people gave their response, all tended to tranquilize his mind into a holy calm.

At the termination of the concluding prayer, how sweet were the emotions of Wallace when he heard these words, uttered with augmented fervor by the aged pet.i.tioner!

"While we thus thank thee, O gracious G.o.d! for the mercies bestowed upon us, we humbly implore thee to hold in thine Almighty protection him by whose arm thou has wrought the deliverance of Scotland. Let our preserver be saved from his sins by the blood of Christ! Let our benefactor be blessed in mind, body, and estate, and all prosper with him that he takes in hand! May the good he has dispensed to his country be returned four-fold into his bosom; and may he live to see a race of his own reaping the harvest of his virtues, and adding fresh honors to the stalwart name of Wallace!"

Every mouth echoed a fervent amen to this prayer, and Wallace himself inwardly breathed, "And have I not, even now, sinned, all-gracious G.o.d!

in the distraction of this night's remembrance? I mourned--I would not be comforted. But in thy mercy thou hast led me hither to see the happy fruits of my labors; and I am resigned and thankful!"

The sacred rites over, two girls ran to the other side of the room, and between them brought forward a rough table covered with dishes and bread; while the mother, taking off a large pot, emptied its smoking contents into the different vessels. Meanwhile the young man, introducing the stranger to his father, related the accident of the meeting, and the good old shepherd, bidding him a hearty welcome, desired him to draw near the fire and partake of their New-year's breakfast.

"We need the fire, I a.s.sure you," cried the lad, "for we are dripping."

Wallace now advanced from the shadowed part of the room, where he had knelt, and drawing toward the light, certainly displayed to his host the truth of his son's observation. He had left the castle without his bonnet, and hurrying on regardless of the whelming storm, his hair became saturated with wet, and now streamed in water over his shoulders. The good old wife, seeing the stranger's situation was worse than her son's s.n.a.t.c.hed away the bottle out of which he was swallowing a heavy cordial, and poured it over the exposed head of her guest; then ordering one of her daughters to rub it dry, she took off his plaid, and wringing it, hung it to the fire.

During these various operations--for the whole family seemed eager to show their hospitality--the old man discovered, not so much by the costliness of his garments as by the n.o.ble mien and gentle manners of the stranger, that he was some chieftain from the castle. "Your honor," said he, "must pardon the uncourtliness of our ways; but we give you the best we have: and the worthy Lord Loch-awe cannot do more."

Wallace gave smiling answers to all their remarks, and offers of service. He partook of their broth, praised the good wife's cakes, and sat discoursing with the family with all the gayety and frankness of one of themselves. His unreserved manners opened every heart around him, and with confidential freedom the venerable shepherd related his domestic history, dwelling particularly on the projected marriages of his children, which he said, "should now take place, since the good Sir William Wallace had brought peace to the land."

Wallace gratified the worthy father, he appearing to take an interest in all his narratives, and then allowing the happy spirits of the young people to break in upon these graver discussions, he smiled with them, or looked serious with the garrulous matron, who turned the discourse to tales of other times. He listened with complacency to every legend of witch, fairy, and ghost; and his enlightened remarks sometimes pointed out natural causes for the extraordinary appearances she described; or, at better--attested and less equivocal accounts of supernatural apparitions, he acknowledged that there are "more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in philosophy."

Morning dawned before the tranquilized, nay, happy Wallace, happy in the cheerful innocence of the scene, discovered that the night was past. As the gray light gleamed through the wooden shutters he arose.

"My friends, I must leave you," said he; "there are those not far off who may be alarmed at my disappearance, for none knew when I walked abroad, and unwittingly I have been charmed all these hours to remain, enjoying the happiness of your circle, forgetful of the anxiety I have perhaps occasioned in my own."

The old man declared his intention of seeing him over the hill.

Wallace declined giving him that trouble, saying that as it was daylight, and the snow had ceased, he could easily retrace his steps to the castle.

"No, no," returned the shepherd; "and besides," said he, "as I hear the good lord regent is keeping the New Year with our n.o.ble earl, who knows but I may get a glimpse of his n.o.ble countenance, and that will be a sight to tell of till I die!"

"G.o.d's blessing on his sweet face!" cried the old woman; "but I would give all the yarn in my muckle chest to catch one look of his lucky eye! I warrant you, witch nor fairy could never harm me more."

"Ah, father," cried the eldest of the girls, blus.h.i.+ng, "if you go near enough to him! Do you know, Madgie Grant told me, if I could but get even the least bit of Sir William Wallace's hair, and give it to Donal Cameron to wear in a true lover's know on his breast, no Southron will be able to do him harm as long as he lives!"

"And do you believe it would protect your lover, my pretty Jeannie?"

inquired Wallace, with a sweet smile.

"Surely," she replied; "for Madgie is a wise woman, and has the second sight."

"Well, then," returned he, "you shall be gratified. For, though I must for once contradict the testimony of a wise woman, and tell you that nothing can render a man absolutely safe but the protection of Heaven, yet, if a hair from the head of Sir William Wallace would please you, and a glance from his eye gratify your mother, both shall be satisfied," and lifting up the old woman's shears, which lay on a working-stool before him, he cut off a golden lock from the middle of his head and put it into the hand of Jeannie. At this action--which was performed with such n.o.ble grace that not one of the family now doubted who had been their guest--the good dame fell on her knees, and Jeannie, with a cry of joy, putting the beautiful lock into her bosom, followed the example, and in a woman all were clinging around him. The old man grasped his hand. "Bravest of men!" cried he, "the Lord has indeed blessed this house, since he has honored it with the presence of the deliverer of Scotland! My prayers, and the benedictions of all good men, friend or foe, must ever follow your footsteps!"

Tears of pleasure started into the eyes of Wallace. He raised the family one by one from the ground, and putting his purse into the hand of the dame, "There, my kind hostess," said he, "let that fill the chests of your daughters on their bridal day; they must receive it as a brother's portion to his sisters, for it is with fraternal affection that William Wallace regards the sons and daughters of Scotland."

The happy sobs of the old woman stopped the expressions of her grat.i.tude, but her son, fearing his freedom of the night before might have offended, stood abashed at a distance. Wallace stretched out his hand to him. "My good Archibald," cried he, "do not hold back from one who will always be your friend. I shall send from the castle this day sufficient to fill your bridal coffers also."

Archibald now pet.i.tioned to be allowed to follow him in his army. "No, my brave youth," replied the chief; "Lord Lochawe will lead you forth, whenever there is occasion; and, meanwhile, your duty is to imitate the domestic duties of your worthy father. Make the neighboring valley smile with the fruits of your industry; and raise a family to bless you, as you now bless him."

Wallace, having wrapped himself in his plaid, now withdrew amidst the benedictions of the whole group; and swiftly recrossing the mountain heights, was soon on the western brow of Ben Cruachan. In ten minutes afterward he entered the hall of Kilchurn Castle. A few servants only were astir; the rest of the family were still asleep. About an hour after their friend's departure, the earl and Graham had missed him; but supposing that, whithersoever he was gone, he would soon return, they made no inquiries; and when the tempest began, on Edwin expressing his anxiety to know where he was, one of the servants said he was gone to his chamber. This answer satisfied every one, and they continued to enjoy the festal scene until the Countess of Loch-awe made the signal for repose.

Next morning, when the family met at the breakfast-board, they were not a little surprised to hear Wallace recount the adventure of the night; and while Loch-awe promised every kindness to the shepherd, and a messenger was dispatched with a purse to Archibald Edwin learned from the earl's servant, that his reason for supposing the regent was gone to his room arose from the sight of his bonnet in the outer hall.

Wallace was glad that such an evidence had prevented his friends being alarmed; and retiring with Lord Loch-awe, with his usual equanimity of mind resumed the graver errand of his tour.

The hospitable rites of the season being over, in the course of a few days the earl accompanied his ill.u.s.trious guest to make the circuit of Argyles.h.i.+re. At Castle Urguhart they parted; and Wallace, proceeding with his two friends, performed his legislative visits from sea to sea.

Having traversed with perfect satisfaction the whole of the northern part of the kingdom, he returned to Huntingtower on the very morning that a messenger had reached it from Murray. That vigilant chieftain informed the regent of King Edward's arrival from Flanders, and that he was preparing a large army to march into Scotland.

"We must meet him," cried Wallace, "on his own sh.o.r.es; and so let the horrors attending the seat of war full on the country whose king would bring desolation to ours."

Chapter XLIX.

Stanmore.

The gathering word was dispatched from chief to chief, to call the clans of the Highlands to meet their regent by a certain day in Clydesdale. Wallace himself set forward to summon the strength of the Lowlands; but at Kinclavin Castle, on the coast of Fife, he was surprised with another emba.s.sy from Edward--a herald, accompanied by that Sir Hugh le de Spencer who had conducted himself so insolently on his first embra.s.sage.

On his entering the chamber where the regent sat with the chiefs who had accompanied him from Perthsire, the two English men walked forward; but before the herald could pay the customary respects, Le de Spencer advanced to Wallace; and to the price of a little mind, elated at being empowered to insult with impunity, he broke forth: "Sir William Wallace, the contumely with which the emba.s.sadors of Prince Edward were treated, is so resented by the King of England, that he invests his own majesty in my person to tell you, that your treasons have filled up their measure! that now, in the plenitude of his continental victories, he descends upon Scotland, to annihilate this rebellious nation; and-"

"Stop, Sir Hugh le de Spencer," cried the herald, touching him with his scepter; "whatever may be the denunciations with which our sovereign has intrusted you, you must allow me to perform my duty before you declare them. And thus I utter the gracious message with which his Majesty has honored my mouth."

He then addressed Wallace; and in the king's name, accusing him of rebellion, and of unfair and cruel devastations made in Scotland and in England, promised him pardon for all if he would immediately disband his followers and acknowledge his offense.

Wallace motioned with his hand for his friends to keep silence (for he perceived that two or three of the most violent were ready to break forth in fierce defiance of King Edward), and being obeyed, he calmly replied to the herald: "When we were desolate, your king came to us as a comforter, and he put us in chains! While he was absent, I invaded his country as an open enemy. I rifled your barns, but it was to feed a people whom his robberies had left to peris.h.!.+ I marched through your lands, I made your soldiers fly before me; but what spot in all your sh.o.r.es have I made black with the smoke of ruin? I leave the people of Northumberland to judge between me and your monarch. And that he never shall be mine or Scotland's, with G.o.d's blessing on the right, our deeds shall further prove!"

"Vain and ruinous determination!" exclaimed Le de Spencer; "King Edward comes against you, with an army that will reach from sea to sea.

Wherever the hoofs of his war-horse strike, there gra.s.s never grows again. The sword and the fire shall make a desert of this devoted land; and your arrogant head, proud Scot, shall bleed upon the scaffold!"

"He shall first see my fires, and meet my sword in his own fields,"

returned Wallace; "and if G.o.d continues my life, I will keep my Easter in England, in despite of King Edward, and of all who bear armor in his country!"

As he spoke he rose from his chair, and bowing his head to the herald, the Scottish marshals conducted the emba.s.sadors from his presence. Le de Spencer twice attempted to speak, but the marshals would not allow him. They said that the business of the emba.s.sy was now over; and should he presume further to insult their regent, the privilege of his official character should not protect him from the wrath of the Scots.

Intimidated by the frowning brows and nervous arms of all around, he held his peace, and the doors were shut on him.

Wallace foresaw the heavy tempest to Scotland threatened by these repeated emba.s.sies. He perceived that Edward, by sending overtures which he knew could not be accepted--by making a show of pacific intentions, meant to throw the blame of the continuation of hostilities upon the Scots, and so overcome the reluctance of his more equitable n.o.bility, to further persecute a people whom he had made suffer so unjustly. The same insidious policy was likewise meant to change the aspect of the Scottish cause in the eyes of Philip of France, who had lately sent congratulations to the regent, on the victory of Cambus-Kenneth; and by that means deprive him of a powerful ally and zealous negotiator for an honorable peace.

To prevent this last injury, Wallace dispatched a quick-sailing vessel with Sir Alexander Ramsay, to inform King Philip of the particulars of Edward's proposals, and of the consequent continued warfare.

On the twenty-eighth of February, Sir William Wallace joined Lord Andrew Murray, on Bothwell Moor, where he had the happiness of seeing his brave friend again lord of the domains he had so lately lost in the Scottish cause. Wallace did not visit the castle. At such a crisis, he forbore to unnerve his mind, by awakening the griefs which lay slumbering at the bottom of his heart. Halbert came from his convent once more to look upon the face of his beloved master. The meeting cost Wallace many agonizing pangs, but he smiled on his faithful servant. He pressed the venerable form in his manly arms, and promised him news of his life and safety. "May I die," cried the old man, "ere I hear it is otherwise! But youth is no warrant for life; the vigor of those arms cannot always a.s.sure themselves of victory; and should you fall, where would be our country?"

"With a better than I," returned the chief, "in the arms of G.o.d. He will fight for Scotland when Wallace is laid low." Halbert wept. But the trumpet sounded for the field. He blessed his lord, and they parted forever.

A strong force from the Highlands joined the troops from Stirling; and Wallace had the satisfaction of seeing before him thirty thousand well-appointed men eager for the fight. With all Scotland pressing on his heart, his eye lingered for a moment on the distant towers of Bothwell; but not delaying a moment, he placed himself at the head of his legions, and set forth through a country now budding with all the charms of the cultivation he had spread over it. In the midst of a fine glen of renovated corn fields, he was met by a courier from Sir Roger Kirkpatrick, with information that the Northumbrians, being apprised of King Edward's approach, were a.s.sembling in immense bodies; and having crossed the debatable land in the night, had driven Sir Eustace Maxwell, with great loss, into Carlaveroch; and though hara.s.sed by Kirkpatrick himself, were ravaging the country as far as Dumfries.

The letter of the brave knight added, "These Southron thieves blow the name of Edward before them, and with its sound have spell-bound the courage of every soul I meet. Come then, valiant Wallace, and conjure it down again, else I shall not be surprised if the men of Annandale bind me hand and foot, and deliver me up to Algernon Percy (the leader of this inroad), to purchase mercy to their cowardice."