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HAVING secured the
advantages he had gained in the town and on the works of the castle, by
manning all the strong places, Wallace set forward with his chosen troops
to intercept De Warenne.
He took his position on a
commanding ground, about half a mile from Stirling, near to the abbey of
CambusKenneth. The Forth lay before him, crossed by a wooden bridge; over
which the enemy must pass to reach him, the river not being fordable in
that part.
He ordered the timbers
which supported the bridge to be sawed at the bottom, but not displaced in
the least, that they might stand perfectly firm for as long as he should
deem it necessary. To these timbers were fastened strong cords, all of
which he intrusted to the sturdiest of his Lanark-men; who were to lie
concealed amongst the flags. These preparations being made, he drew up his
troops in order of battle. Kirkpatrick and Murray commanded the flanks. In
the centre stood Wallace himself, with Ramsay on one side of him, and
Edwin, with Scrymgeour on the other; awaiting with steady expectation the
approach of the enemy; who, by this time, could not be far distant.
Cressingham was not less
well informed of the advance of
De Warenne; and burning with revenge against Wallace, and earnest to
redeem the favour of De Valence by some act in his behalf, he first gave
secret orders to his lieutenant, then set forth alone; to seek an avenue
of escape, never divulged to any but to the commanders of the fortress. He
soon discovered it; and by the light of a torch, making his way through a
passage bored in the rock, emerged at its western base, screened from
sight by the surrounding bushes. He had disguised himself in a shepherd’s
bonnet and plaid, in case of being observed by the enemy; but fortune
favoured him; and unseen he crept along through the thickets, till he
descried the advance of De Warenne’s army on the skirts of Torwood.
Having missed Wallace in
West Lothian, De Warenne divided his army into three divisions, to enter
Stirlingshire by different routes, and so, he hoped, certainly to
intercept him in one of them. The Earl of Montgomery led the first, of
twenty thousand men; the Barons Hilton and Blenkinsopp, the second, of ten
thousand; and De Warenne himself, the third, of thirty thousand.
It was the first of these
divisions that Cressingham encountered in Torwood; and revealing himself
to Montgomery, he recounte’d how rapidly Wallace had gained the town,
and in what jeopardy the citadel would be, if he were not instantly
attacked. The Earl advised waiting for a junction with Hilton, or the Lord
Warden; "which," said he, "must happen in the course of a
few hours."
"In the course of a
few hours," returned Cressingham, "you will have no Stirling
castle to defend. The enemy will seize it at sunset, in pursuance of the
very agreement by which I warded him off, to give us time to annihilate
him before that hour. Therefore no hesitation; if we would not see him
lock the gates of the north of Scotland upon us, even when we have the
power to hurl him to perdition."
By arguments such as these,
the young Earl was induced to give up his judgment; and, accompanied by
Cressingham, whose courage revived amid such a host, he proceeded to the
southern bank of the Forth.
The bands of Wallace were
drawn up on the opposite shore, hardly five thousand strong; but so
disposed, the enemy could not calculate their numbers; though the
narrowness of their front, suggested to Cressingham that they could not be
numerous; and he recollected that many must have been left to occupy the
outworks of the town, and the citadel. "It will be easy to surround
the rebel:" cried he; "and that we may effect our enterprise
before the arrival of the Warden robs us of the honour, let us about it
directly, and cross the bridge!"
Montgomery proposed a
herald being sent, to inform Wallace, that besides the long line of troops
he saw, De Warenne was advancing with double hosts; and if he would now
surrender, a pardon should be granted to him and his, in the King’s
name, for all their late rebellions. Cressingham was vehement against this
measure; but Montgomery being resolute, the messenger was despatched.
In a few minutes he
returned, and repeated to the Southron commanders, the - words of Wallace
:—" Go," said he, "tell your masters, we came not here to
treat for a pardon, of what we shall never allow to be an offence: we
came to assert our rights; to set Scotland free. Till that is effected,
all negotiation is vain. Let them advance, they will find us
prepared."
"Then onward!"
cried Montgomery; and spurring his steed, he led the way to the bridge;
his eager soldiers followed; and the whole of his centre ranks passed
over. The flanks advanced; and the bridge, from end to end, was filled
with archers, cavalry, men-at-arms, and war-carriages. Cressingham, in the
midst, was hallooing in proud triumph to those who occupied the rear of
the straining beams, when the blast of a trumpet sounded from the till now
silent and immovable Scottish phalanx. It was re-echoed by shouts, from
behind the passing enemy—and in that moment, the supporting piers of the
bridge were pulled away; and the whole of its mailed throng was
precipitated into the stream. [This historical
fact relating to the bridge, is yet exultingly repeated on the spot; and
the number of the Southrons who fell beneath the arms of so small a band
of Scots, is not less the theme of triumph.-(1809.)]
The cries of the maimed,
and the drowning, were joined by the terrific slogen of two bands of
Scots. The one, with Wallace, towards the head of the river; while the
other, under the command of Sir John Graham, rushed from its ambuscade on
the opposite bank, upon the rear of the dismayed troops; and both
divisions sweeping all before them, drove those who fought on land into
the river, and those who had just escaped the flood, to meet its waves
again, a bleeding host.
In the midst of this conflict, which
rather seemed a carnage than a battle, Kirkpatrick, having heard the proud
shouts of Cressingham on The bridge, now sought him amidst its shattered
limbers. With the ferocity of a tiger hunting his prey, he ran from man to
man; and as the struggling wretches emerged from the water, he plucked
them from the surge; but even while his glaring eyeballs, and uplifted
axe, threatened destruction, he only looked on them; and with imprecations
of disappointment, rushed forward on his chase. Almost in despair, that
the waves had cheated his revenge, he was hurrying on in another
direction, when he perceived a body moving through a hollow on his right.
He turned, and saw the object of his search, crawling amongst the mud and
sedges.
"Ha!" cried
Kirkpatrick, with a triumphant yell, "Art thou yet mine !—Damned,
damned villain !" cried he, springing upon his breast: "Behold
the man you dishonoured !—behold the hot cheek your dastard hand defiled
!—Thy blood shall obliterate the stain; and then Kirkpatrick may again
front the proudest in Scotland!"
"For mercy!"
cried the horror-struck Cressingham, struggling with preternatural
strength to extricate himself.
"Hell would be my
portion, did I grant any to thee," cried Kirkpatrick; and with one
stroke of his axe, he severed the head from its body. "I am a man
again!" shouted he, as he held its bleeding veins in his hand, and
placed it on the point of his sword. "Thou ruthless priest of Moloch,
and of Mammon, thou shalt have thine own blood to drink, while I show my
general how proudly I am avenged!" As he spoke, he dashed amongst the
victorious ranks; and reached Wallace, at the very moment he was freeing
himself from his fallen horse, which a random arrow had shot under him.
Murray, at the same instant, was bringing up the wounded Montgomery; who
came to surrender his sword, and to beg quarter for his men. The Earl
turned deadly pale; for the first object that struck his sight, was the
fierce knight of Torthorald; walking under the stream of blood, which
continued to flow from the ghastly head of Cressingham, as he held it
exultingly in the air.
"If that be your
chief," cried Montgomery, "I have mistaken him much—I cannot
yield my sword to him."
Murray understood him :—"If
cruelty be an evil spirit," returned he, "it has fled every
breast in this army, to shelter with Sir Roger Kirkpatrick; and its name
is Legion! That is my chief!" added he, pointing to Wallace,
with an evident consciousness of deriving honour from his command. The
chief rose from the ground, dyed in the same ensanguined hue which had
excited the abhorrence of Montgomery, though it had been drawn from his
own veins, and those of his horse. All, indeed,
of blood about him, seemed to be on his garments; none was in his eyes,
none in his heart, but what warmed it to mercy and to benevolence for all
mankind. His eye momentarily fell on the approaching figure of
Kirkpatrick; who, waving the head in the air, blew from his bugle the
triumphal notes of the Pryse, [The Pryse
were the notes sounded in hunting at the death of the game.]
and then cried to his chief: "I have slain the wolf of Scotland! My
brave clansmen are now casing my target with his skin; [It
is recorded that the memory of Cressingham was so odious to the Scots,
they did indeed flay his dead body, and made saddles and girths and other
things of his skin.—(1809.)] which, when I
strike its bossy sides, will cry aloud, So perishes thy dishonour! So
perish all the enemies of Scotland!"
"And with the
extinction of that breath, Kirkpatrick." cried Wallace, looking
sternly from the head to him, "let your fell revenge perish also. For
your own honour, commit no indignities on the body you have slain."
"‘Tis for you to
conquer like a god!" cried Kirkpatrick: "I
have felt as a man, and like a man I revenge. This head shall destroy,
even in death: it shall vanquish its friends for me; for I will wear it
like a Gorgon on my sword, to turn to stone every Southron who looks on
it." While speaking, he disappeared amongst the thickening ranks; and
as the victorious Scots hailed him in passing, Montgomery thinking of his
perishing men, suffered Murray to lead him to the scene of his humility.
The ever-comprehensive eye
of Wallace perceived him, as he advanced; and guessing by his armour and
dignified demeanour, who he was; with a noble grace he raised his helmed
bonnet from his head, when the Earl approached him. Montgomery looked on
him; he felt his soul, even more than his arms, subdued; but still there
was some thing about a soldier’s heart,
that shrunk from yielding his power of resistance. The blood mounted into
his before pale cheeks: he held out his sword in silence to the victor;
for he could not bring his tongue to pronounce the word
"surrender."
Wallace understood the
sign, and holding up his hand to a herald, the trumpet of peace was
raised. It sounded and where, the moment before, were the horrid clash of
arms, the yell of savage conquest, and direful cries for mercy, all was
hushed as death. Not that death which has past, but that which is
approaching—None spoke; not a sound was heard, but the low groans of the
dying, who lay, overwhelmed and perishing, beneath the bodies of the
slain, and the feet of the living.
The voice of Wallace rose from this
awful pause. Its sound was ever the harbinger of glory, or of "good
will to men." " Soldiers!" cried he," God has given
victory—let us show
our gratitude, by moderation and mercy. Gather the wounded into quarters,
and bury the dead."
Wallace then turned to the
extended sword of the Earl: he put it
gently back with his hand: "Ever wear what you honour," said he;
"but, gallant Montgomery, when you draw it next, let it be in a
better cause. Learn, brave Earl, to discriminate between a warrior’s
glory, and his shame; between the defender of his country, and the
unprovoked ravager of other lands."
Montgomery blushed scarlet
at these words; but it was not with resentment. He looked down for a
moment:-
"Ah !" thought he,
"perhaps I ought never to have drawn it here !" Then raising his
eyes to Wallace, he said— "Were you not the enemy of my king, who
though a conqueror, sanctions none of the cruelties that have been
committed in his name, I would give you my hand, before the remnant of his
brave troops, whose lives you grant. But you have my heart; a heart that
knows no difference
between friend or foe, when the bonds of virtue would unite, what only
civil dissensions hold separate."
"Had your king possessed the
virtues you believe he does," replied Wallace, "my sword might
have now been a pruning-hook. But that is past! We are in arms for
injuries received, and to drive out a tyrant. For believe me, noble
Montgomery, that monarch has little pretensions to virtue, who suffers the
oppressors of his people, or of his conquests, to go unpunished. To
connive at cruelty, is to practise it. And has Edward ever frowned on one
of those despots, who, in his name, have for these two years past, laid
Scotland in blood and ashes ?"
The appeal was too strong
for Montgomery to answer he felt its truth, and bowed, with an expression
in his face, that told more, than as a subject of England, he dared
declare.
The late expecting silence
was turned into the clamorous activity of eager obedience. The prisoners
were conducted to the rear of Stirling; while the major part of the Scots,
(leaving a detachment, to unburden the earth of its bleeding load,)
returned in front of the gates, just as De Warenne’s division appeared
on the horizon, like a moving cloud gilded by the now setting sun. At this
sight, Wallace sent Edwin into the town, with Lord Montgomery; and
marshalling his line, prepared to bear down upon the approaching Earl.
But the Lord Warden had
received information, which fought better for the Scots than a host of
swords. When advanced a very little onward on the Carse of Stirling, one
of his scouts brought intelligence, that having approached the south side
of the Forth, he had seen that river floating with dead bodies; and soon
after met Southron soldiers in full flight, while he heard from afar the
Scottish horns blowing the notes of victory. From what he learnt from
the fugitives, he also informed his lord, "that not only the town and
citadel of Stirling, were in the possession of Sir William Wallace, but
the two detachments under Montgomery and Hilton, had both been
discomfited, and their leaders slain or taken."
At this intelligence, Earl
de Warenne stood aghast; and while he was still doubting that such
disgrace to King Edward’s arms could be possible, two or three fugitives
came up, and witnessed to its truth. One, had seen Kirkpatrick, with the
bloody head of the governor of Stirling, on his sword. Another, had been
near Cressingham in the wood, when he told Montgomery of the capture of De
Valence; and concluding that he meant the leader of the third division, he
corroborated the scout’s information of the two defeats; adding (for
terror magnified the objects of fear,) that the Scots army was
incalculable; but was so disposed by Sir William Wallace, as to appear
inconsiderable, that he might ensnare his enemies, by filling them with
hopes of an easy conquest.
These accounts persuaded De
Warenne to make a retreat; and intimidated by the exaggerated
representations of them who had fled, his men, with no little
precipitation, turned to obey.
Wallace perceived the retrograde
motion of his enemy’s lines; and while a stream of arrows from his
archers poured upon them like hail, he bore down upon the rear-guard with
his cavalry and men-at-arms, and sent Graham round by the wood, to
surprise the flanks.
All was executed with
promptitude; and the tremendous slogen sounding from side to side, the
terrified Southrons, before in confusion, now threw away their arms, to
lighten themselves for escape. Sensible that it is not the number of the
dead, hut the terror of the living, which gives the finishing stroke to
conquest, De Warenne saw the effects of this panic, in the total disregard
of his orders; and dreadful would have been the carnage of his troops, had
he not sounded a parley.
The bugle of Wallace
instantly answered it. De Warenne sent forward his herald. He offered to
lay down his arms, provided he might be exempted from relinquishing the
royal standard; and that he, and his men, might be permitted to return
without delay into England.
Wallace accepted the first
article; granted the second; but with retard to the third, it must be on
condition, that he, the Lord de Warenne, and the officers taken in his
army, or in other engagements lately fought in Scotland, should be
immediately exchanged for the like number of noble Scots Wallace should
name, who were prisoners in England; and that the common men of the army,
now about to surrender their arms, should take an oath never to serve
again against Scotland.
These preliminaries being
agreed to, (their very boldness arguing the conscious advantage which
seemed to compel the assent,) the Lord Warden advanced at the head of his
thirty thousand troops; and first laying down his sword, which Wallace
immediately returned to him; the officers and soldiers marched by with
their heads uncovered, throwing down their weapons, as they approached
their conqueror. Wallace extended his line, while the procession moved;
for he had too much policy, to show his enemies, that thirty thousand men
had yielded, almost without a blow, to scarce five thousand. The oath was
afterwards administered to each regiment, by heralds, sent for that
purpose into the strath of Monteith; whither Wallace had directed the
captured legions to assemble and refresh themselves, previous to their
departure next morning for England. The privates thus disposed of, to
release himself from the commanders also, Wallace told De Warenne, that
duty called him away, but every respect would be paid to them by the
Scottish officers.
He then gave directions to
Sir Alexander Ramsay, to escort De Warenne, and the rest of the noble
prisoners, to Stirling. Wallace himself, tuned with his veteran band, to
give a conqueror’s greeting to the Baron of Hilton; and so ended the
famous battles of Cambus-Kenneth; and the Carse of Stirling.
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