Chapter XVI - England Under Edward the First, Called Longshanks

by Charles Dickens

　　It was now the year of our Lord one thousand two hundred andseventy-two; and Prince Edward, the heir to the throne, being awayin the Holy Land, knew nothing of his father's death. The Barons,however, proclaimed him King, immediately after the Royal funeral;and the people very willingly consented, since most men knew toowell by this time what the horrors of a contest for the crown were.So King Edward the First, called, in a not very complimentarymanner, Longshanks, because of the slenderness of his legs, waspeacefully accepted by the English Nation.

　　His legs had need to be strong, however long and thin they were;for they had to support him through many difficulties on the fierysands of Asia, where his small force of soldiers fainted, died,deserted, and seemed to melt away. But his prowess made light ofit, and he said, 'I will go on, if I go on with no other followerthan my groom!'

　　A Prince of this spirit gave the Turks a deal of trouble. Hestormed Nazareth, at which place, of all places on earth, I amsorry to relate, he made a frightful slaughter of innocent people;and then he went to Acre, where he got a truce of ten years fromthe Sultan. He had very nearly lost his life in Acre, through thetreachery of a Saracen Noble, called the Emir of Jaffa, who, makingthe pretence that he had some idea of turning Christian and wantedto know all about that religion, sent a trusty messenger to Edwardvery often - with a dagger in his sleeve. At last, one Friday inWhitsun week, when it was very hot, and all the sandy prospect laybeneath the blazing sun, burnt up like a great overdone biscuit,and Edward was lying on a couch, dressed for coolness in only aloose robe, the messenger, with his chocolate-coloured face and hisbright dark eyes and white teeth, came creeping in with a letter,and kneeled down like a tame tiger. But, the moment Edwardstretched out his hand to take the letter, the tiger made a springat his heart. He was quick, but Edward was quick too. He seizedthe traitor by his chocolate throat, threw him to the ground, andslew him with the very dagger he had drawn. The weapon had struckEdward in the arm, and although the wound itself was slight, itthreatened to be mortal, for the blade of the dagger had beensmeared with poison. Thanks, however, to a better surgeon than wasoften to be found in those times, and to some wholesome herbs, andabove all, to his faithful wife, Eleanor, who devotedly nursed him,and is said by some to have sucked the poison from the wound withher own red lips (which I am very willing to believe), Edward soonrecovered and was sound again.

　　As the King his father had sent entreaties to him to return home,he now began the journey. He had got as far as Italy, when he metmessengers who brought him intelligence of the King's death.Hearing that all was quiet at home, he made no haste to return tohis own dominions, but paid a visit to the Pope, and went in statethrough various Italian Towns, where he was welcomed withacclamations as a mighty champion of the Cross from the Holy Land,and where he received presents of purple mantles and prancinghorses, and went along in great triumph. The shouting peoplelittle knew that he was the last English monarch who would everembark in a crusade, or that within twenty years every conquestwhich the Christians had made in the Holy Land at the cost of somuch blood, would be won back by the Turks. But all this came topass.

　　There was, and there is, an old town standing in a plain in France,called Châlons. When the King was coming towards this place on hisway to England, a wily French Lord, called the Count of Châlons,sent him a polite challenge to come with his knights and hold afair tournament with the Count and his knights, and make a day ofit with sword and lance. It was represented to the King that theCount of Châlons was not to be trusted, and that, instead of aholiday fight for mere show and in good humour, he secretly meant areal battle, in which the English should be defeated by superiorforce.

　　The King, however, nothing afraid, went to the appointed place onthe appointed day with a thousand followers. When the Count camewith two thousand and attacked the English in earnest, the Englishrushed at them with such valour that the Count's men and theCount's horses soon began to be tumbled down all over the field.The Count himself seized the King round the neck, but the Kingtumbled him out of his saddle in return for the compliment, and,jumping from his own horse, and standing over him, beat away at hisiron armour like a blacksmith hammering on his anvil. Even whenthe Count owned himself defeated and offered his sword, the Kingwould not do him the honour to take it, but made him yield it up toa common soldier. There had been such fury shown in this fight,that it was afterwards called the little Battle of Châlons.

　　The English were very well disposed to be proud of their King afterthese adventures; so, when he landed at Dover in the year onethousand two hundred and seventy-four (being then thirty-six yearsold), and went on to Westminster where he and his good Queen werecrowned with great magnificence, splendid rejoicings took place.For the coronation-feast there were provided, among other eatables,four hundred oxen, four hundred sheep, four hundred and fifty pigs,eighteen wild boars, three hundred flitches of bacon, and twentythousand fowls. The fountains and conduits in the street flowedwith red and white wine instead of water; the rich citizens hungsilks and cloths of the brightest colours out of their windows toincrease the beauty of the show, and threw out gold and silver bywhole handfuls to make scrambles for the crowd. In short, therewas such eating and drinking, such music and capering, such aringing of bells and tossing of caps, such a shouting, and singing,and revelling, as the narrow overhanging streets of old London Cityhad not witnessed for many a long day. All the people were merryexcept the poor Jews, who, trembling within their houses, andscarcely daring to peep out, began to foresee that they would haveto find the money for this joviality sooner or later.

　　To dismiss this sad subject of the Jews for the present, I am sorryto add that in this reign they were most unmercifully pillaged.They were hanged in great numbers, on accusations of having clippedthe King's coin - which all kinds of people had done. They wereheavily taxed; they were disgracefully badged; they were, on oneday, thirteen years after the coronation, taken up with their wivesand children and thrown into beastly prisons, until they purchasedtheir release by paying to the King twelve thousand pounds.Finally, every kind of property belonging to them was seized by theKing, except so little as would defray the charge of their takingthemselves away into foreign countries. Many years elapsed beforethe hope of gain induced any of their race to return to England,where they had been treated so heartlessly and had suffered somuch.

　　If King Edward the First had been as bad a king to Christians as hewas to Jews, he would have been bad indeed. But he was, ingeneral, a wise and great monarch, under whom the country muchimproved. He had no love for the Great Charter - few Kings had,through many, many years - but he had high qualities. The firstbold object which he conceived when he came home, was, to uniteunder one Sovereign England, Scotland, and Wales; the two last ofwhich countries had each a little king of its own, about whom thepeople were always quarrelling and fighting, and making aprodigious disturbance - a great deal more than he was worth. Inthe course of King Edward's reign he was engaged, besides, in a warwith France. To make these quarrels clearer, we will separatetheir histories and take them thus. Wales, first. France, second.Scotland, third.

　　Llewellyn was the Prince of Wales. He had been on the side of theBarons in the reign of the stupid old King, but had afterwardssworn allegiance to him. When King Edward came to the throne,Llewellyn was required to swear allegiance to him also; which herefused to do. The King, being crowned and in his own dominions,three times more required Llewellyn to come and do homage; andthree times more Llewellyn said he would rather not. He was goingto be married to Eleanor de Montfort, a young lady of the familymentioned in the last reign; and it chanced that this young lady,coming from France with her youngest brother, Emeric, was taken byan English ship, and was ordered by the English King to bedetained. Upon this, the quarrel came to a head. The King went,with his fleet, to the coast of Wales, where, so encompassingLlewellyn, that he could only take refuge in the bleak mountainregion of Snowdon in which no provisions could reach him, he wassoon starved into an apology, and into a treaty of peace, and intopaying the expenses of the war. The King, however, forgave himsome of the hardest conditions of the treaty, and consented to hismarriage. And he now thought he had reduced Wales to obedience.

　　But the Welsh, although they were naturally a gentle, quiet,pleasant people, who liked to receive strangers in their cottagesamong the mountains, and to set before them with free hospitalitywhatever they had to eat and drink, and to play to them on theirharps, and sing their native ballads to them, were a people ofgreat spirit when their blood was up. Englishmen, after thisaffair, began to be insolent in Wales, and to assume the air ofmasters; and the Welsh pride could not bear it. Moreover, theybelieved in that unlucky old Merlin, some of whose unlucky oldprophecies somebody always seemed doomed to remember when there wasa chance of its doing harm; and just at this time some blind oldgentleman with a harp and a long white beard, who was an excellentperson, but had become of an unknown age and tedious, burst outwith a declaration that Merlin had predicted that when Englishmoney had become round, a Prince of Wales would be crowned inLondon. Now, King Edward had recently forbidden the English pennyto be cut into halves and quarters for halfpence and farthings, andhad actually introduced a round coin; therefore, the Welsh peoplesaid this was the time Merlin meant, and rose accordingly.

　　King Edward had bought over Prince David, Llewellyn's brother, byheaping favours upon him; but he was the first to revolt, beingperhaps troubled in his conscience. One stormy night, he surprisedthe Castle of Hawarden, in possession of which an English noblemanhad been left; killed the whole garrison, and carried off thenobleman a prisoner to Snowdon. Upon this, the Welsh people roselike one man. King Edward, with his army, marching from Worcesterto the Menai Strait, crossed it - near to where the wonderfultubular iron bridge now, in days so different, makes a passage forrailway trains - by a bridge of boats that enabled forty men tomarch abreast. He subdued the Island of Anglesea, and sent his menforward to observe the enemy. The sudden appearance of the Welshcreated a panic among them, and they fell back to the bridge. Thetide had in the meantime risen and separated the boats; the Welshpursuing them, they were driven into the sea, and there they sunk,in their heavy iron armour, by thousands. After this victoryLlewellyn, helped by the severe winter-weather of Wales, gainedanother battle; but the King ordering a portion of his English armyto advance through South Wales, and catch him between two foes, andLlewellyn bravely turning to meet this new enemy, he was surprisedand killed - very meanly, for he was unarmed and defenceless. Hishead was struck off and sent to London, where it was fixed upon theTower, encircled with a wreath, some say of ivy, some say ofwillow, some say of silver, to make it look like a ghastly coin inridicule of the prediction.

　　David, however, still held out for six months, though eagerlysought after by the King, and hunted by his own countrymen. One ofthem finally betrayed him with his wife and children. He wassentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; and from that timethis became the established punishment of Traitors in England - apunishment wholly without excuse, as being revolting, vile, andcruel, after its object is dead; and which has no sense in it, asits only real degradation (and that nothing can blot out) is to thecountry that permits on any consideration such abominablebarbarity.

　　Wales was now subdued. The Queen giving birth to a young prince inthe Castle of Carnarvon, the King showed him to the Welsh people astheir countryman, and called him Prince of Wales; a title that hasever since been borne by the heir-apparent to the English throne -which that little Prince soon became, by the death of his elderbrother. The King did better things for the Welsh than that, byimproving their laws and encouraging their trade. Disturbancesstill took place, chiefly occasioned by the avarice and pride ofthe English Lords, on whom Welsh lands and castles had beenbestowed; but they were subdued, and the country never rose again.There is a legend that to prevent the people from being incited torebellion by the songs of their bards and harpers, Edward had themall put to death. Some of them may have fallen among other men whoheld out against the King; but this general slaughter is, I think,a fancy of the harpers themselves, who, I dare say, made a songabout it many years afterwards, and sang it by the Welsh firesidesuntil it came to be believed.

　　The foreign war of the reign of Edward the First arose in this way.The crews of two vessels, one a Norman ship, and the other anEnglish ship, happened to go to the same place in their boats tofill their casks with fresh water. Being rough angry fellows, theybegan to quarrel, and then to fight - the English with their fists;the Normans with their knives - and, in the fight, a Norman waskilled. The Norman crew, instead of revenging themselves uponthose English sailors with whom they had quarrelled (who were toostrong for them, I suspect), took to their ship again in a greatrage, attacked the first English ship they met, laid hold of anunoffending merchant who happened to be on board, and brutallyhanged him in the rigging of their own vessel with a dog at hisfeet. This so enraged the English sailors that there was norestraining them; and whenever, and wherever, English sailors metNorman sailors, they fell upon each other tooth and nail. TheIrish and Dutch sailors took part with the English; the French andGenoese sailors helped the Normans; and thus the greater part ofthe mariners sailing over the sea became, in their way, as violentand raging as the sea itself when it is disturbed.

　　King Edward's fame had been so high abroad that he had been chosento decide a difference between France and another foreign power,and had lived upon the Continent three years. At first, neither henor the French King Philip (the good Louis had been dead some time)interfered in these quarrels; but when a fleet of eighty Englishships engaged and utterly defeated a Norman fleet of two hundred,in a pitched battle fought round a ship at anchor, in which noquarter was given, the matter became too serious to be passed over.King Edward, as Duke of Guienne, was summoned to present himselfbefore the King of France, at Paris, and answer for the damage doneby his sailor subjects. At first, he sent the Bishop of London ashis representative, and then his brother Edmund, who was married tothe French Queen's mother. I am afraid Edmund was an easy man, andallowed himself to be talked over by his charming relations, theFrench court ladies; at all events, he was induced to give up hisbrother's dukedom for forty days - as a mere form, the French Kingsaid, to satisfy his honour - and he was so very much astonished,when the time was out, to find that the French King had no idea ofgiving it up again, that I should not wonder if it hastened hisdeath: which soon took place.

　　King Edward was a King to win his foreign dukedom back again, if itcould be won by energy and valour. He raised a large army,renounced his allegiance as Duke of Guienne, and crossed the sea tocarry war into France. Before any important battle was fought,however, a truce was agreed upon for two years; and in the courseof that time, the Pope effected a reconciliation. King Edward, whowas now a widower, having lost his affectionate and good wife,Eleanor, married the French King's sister, Margaret; and the Princeof Wales was contracted to the French King's daughter Isabella.

　　Out of bad things, good things sometimes arise. Out of thishanging of the innocent merchant, and the bloodshed and strife itcaused, there came to be established one of the greatest powersthat the English people now possess. The preparations for the warbeing very expensive, and King Edward greatly wanting money, andbeing very arbitrary in his ways of raising it, some of the Baronsbegan firmly to oppose him. Two of them, in particular, HumphreyBohun, Earl of Hereford, and Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, were sostout against him, that they maintained he had no right to commandthem to head his forces in Guienne, and flatly refused to go there.'By Heaven, Sir Earl,' said the King to the Earl of Hereford, in agreat passion, 'you shall either go or be hanged!' 'By Heaven, SirKing,' replied the Earl, 'I will neither go nor yet will I behanged!' and both he and the other Earl sturdily left the court,attended by many Lords. The King tried every means of raisingmoney. He taxed the clergy, in spite of all the Pope said to thecontrary; and when they refused to pay, reduced them to submission,by saying Very well, then they had no claim upon the government forprotection, and any man might plunder them who would - which a goodmany men were very ready to do, and very readily did, and which theclergy found too losing a game to be played at long. He seized allthe wool and leather in the hands of the merchants, promising topay for it some fine day; and he set a tax upon the exportation ofwool, which was so unpopular among the traders that it was called'The evil toll.' But all would not do. The Barons, led by thosetwo great Earls, declared any taxes imposed without the consent ofParliament, unlawful; and the Parliament refused to impose taxes,until the King should confirm afresh the two Great Charters, andshould solemnly declare in writing, that there was no power in thecountry to raise money from the people, evermore, but the power ofParliament representing all ranks of the people. The King was veryunwilling to diminish his own power by allowing this greatprivilege in the Parliament; but there was no help for it, and heat last complied. We shall come to another King by-and-by, whomight have saved his head from rolling off, if he had profited bythis example.

　　The people gained other benefits in Parliament from the good senseand wisdom of this King. Many of the laws were much improved;provision was made for the greater safety of travellers, and theapprehension of thieves and murderers; the priests were preventedfrom holding too much land, and so becoming too powerful; andJustices of the Peace were first appointed (though not at firstunder that name) in various parts of the country.

　　And now we come to Scotland, which was the great and lastingtrouble of the reign of King Edward the First.

　　About thirteen years after King Edward's coronation, Alexander theThird, the King of Scotland, died of a fall from his horse. He hadbeen married to Margaret, King Edward's sister. All their childrenbeing dead, the Scottish crown became the right of a young Princessonly eight years old, the daughter of Eric, King of Norway, who hadmarried a daughter of the deceased sovereign. King Edwardproposed, that the Maiden of Norway, as this Princess was called,should be engaged to be married to his eldest son; but,unfortunately, as she was coming over to England she fell sick, andlanding on one of the Orkney Islands, died there. A greatcommotion immediately began in Scotland, where as many as thirteennoisy claimants to the vacant throne started up and made a generalconfusion.

　　King Edward being much renowned for his sagacity and justice, itseems to have been agreed to refer the dispute to him. He acceptedthe trust, and went, with an army, to the Border-land where Englandand Scotland joined. There, he called upon the Scottish gentlemento meet him at the Castle of Norham, on the English side of theriver Tweed; and to that Castle they came. But, before he wouldtake any step in the business, he required those Scottishgentlemen, one and all, to do homage to him as their superior Lord;and when they hesitated, he said, 'By holy Edward, whose crown Iwear, I will have my rights, or I will die in maintaining them!'The Scottish gentlemen, who had not expected this, weredisconcerted, and asked for three weeks to think about it.

　　At the end of the three weeks, another meeting took place, on agreen plain on the Scottish side of the river. Of all thecompetitors for the Scottish throne, there were only two who hadany real claim, in right of their near kindred to the Royal Family.These were John Baliol and Robert Bruce: and the right was, I haveno doubt, on the side of John Baliol. At this particular meetingJohn Baliol was not present, but Robert Bruce was; and on RobertBruce being formally asked whether he acknowledged the King ofEngland for his superior lord, he answered, plainly and distinctly,Yes, he did. Next day, John Baliol appeared, and said the same.This point settled, some arrangements were made for inquiring intotheir titles.

　　The inquiry occupied a pretty long time - more than a year. Whileit was going on, King Edward took the opportunity of making ajourney through Scotland, and calling upon the Scottish people ofall degrees to acknowledge themselves his vassals, or be imprisoneduntil they did. In the meanwhile, Commissioners were appointed toconduct the inquiry, a Parliament was held at Berwick about it, thetwo claimants were heard at full length, and there was a vastamount of talking. At last, in the great hall of the Castle ofBerwick, the King gave judgment in favour of John Baliol: who,consenting to receive his crown by the King of England's favour andpermission, was crowned at Scone, in an old stone chair which hadbeen used for ages in the abbey there, at the coronations ofScottish Kings. Then, King Edward caused the great seal ofScotland, used since the late King's death, to be broken in fourpieces, and placed in the English Treasury; and considered that henow had Scotland (according to the common saying) under his thumb.

　　Scotland had a strong will of its own yet, however. King Edward,determined that the Scottish King should not forget he was hisvassal, summoned him repeatedly to come and defend himself and hisjudges before the English Parliament when appeals from thedecisions of Scottish courts of justice were being heard. Atlength, John Baliol, who had no great heart of his own, had so muchheart put into him by the brave spirit of the Scottish people, whotook this as a national insult, that he refused to come any more.Thereupon, the King further required him to help him in his warabroad (which was then in progress), and to give up, as securityfor his good behaviour in future, the three strong Scottish Castlesof Jedburgh, Roxburgh, and Berwick. Nothing of this being done; onthe contrary, the Scottish people concealing their King among theirmountains in the Highlands and showing a determination to resist;Edward marched to Berwick with an army of thirty thousand foot, andfour thousand horse; took the Castle, and slew its whole garrison,and the inhabitants of the town as well - men, women, and children.Lord Warrenne, Earl of Surrey, then went on to the Castle ofDunbar, before which a battle was fought, and the whole Scottisharmy defeated with great slaughter. The victory being complete,the Earl of Surrey was left as guardian of Scotland; the principaloffices in that kingdom were given to Englishmen; the more powerfulScottish Nobles were obliged to come and live in England; theScottish crown and sceptre were brought away; and even the oldstone chair was carried off and placed in Westminster Abbey, whereyou may see it now. Baliol had the Tower of London lent him for aresidence, with permission to range about within a circle of twentymiles. Three years afterwards he was allowed to go to Normandy,where he had estates, and where he passed the remaining six yearsof his life: far more happily, I dare say, than he had lived for along while in angry Scotland.

　　Now, there was, in the West of Scotland, a gentleman of smallfortune, named William Wallace, the second son of a Scottishknight. He was a man of great size and great strength; he was verybrave and daring; when he spoke to a body of his countrymen, hecould rouse them in a wonderful manner by the power of his burningwords; he loved Scotland dearly, and he hated England with hisutmost might. The domineering conduct of the English who now heldthe places of trust in Scotland made them as intolerable to theproud Scottish people as they had been, under similarcircumstances, to the Welsh; and no man in all Scotland regardedthem with so much smothered rage as William Wallace. One day, anEnglishman in office, little knowing what he was, affronted him.Wallace instantly struck him dead, and taking refuge among therocks and hills, and there joining with his countryman, Sir WilliamDouglas, who was also in arms against King Edward, became the mostresolute and undaunted champion of a people struggling for theirindependence that ever lived upon the earth.

　　The English Guardian of the Kingdom fled before him, and, thusencouraged, the Scottish people revolted everywhere, and fell uponthe English without mercy. The Earl of Surrey, by the King'scommands, raised all the power of the Border-counties, and twoEnglish armies poured into Scotland. Only one Chief, in the faceof those armies, stood by Wallace, who, with a force of fortythousand men, awaited the invaders at a place on the river Forth,within two miles of Stirling. Across the river there was only onepoor wooden bridge, called the bridge of Kildean - so narrow, thatbut two men could cross it abreast. With his eyes upon thisbridge, Wallace posted the greater part of his men among somerising grounds, and waited calmly. When the English army came upon the opposite bank of the river, messengers were sent forward tooffer terms. Wallace sent them back with a defiance, in the nameof the freedom of Scotland. Some of the officers of the Earl ofSurrey in command of the English, with their eyes also on thebridge, advised him to be discreet and not hasty. He, however,urged to immediate battle by some other officers, and particularlyby Cressingham, King Edward's treasurer, and a rash man, gave theword of command to advance. One thousand English crossed thebridge, two abreast; the Scottish troops were as motionless asstone images. Two thousand English crossed; three thousand, fourthousand, five. Not a feather, all this time, had been seen tostir among the Scottish bonnets. Now, they all fluttered.'Forward, one party, to the foot of the Bridge!' cried Wallace,'and let no more English cross! The rest, down with me on the fivethousand who have come over, and cut them all to pieces!' It wasdone, in the sight of the whole remainder of the English army, whocould give no help. Cressingham himself was killed, and the Scotchmade whips for their horses of his skin.

　　King Edward was abroad at this time, and during the successes onthe Scottish side which followed, and which enabled bold Wallace towin the whole country back again, and even to ravage the Englishborders. But, after a few winter months, the King returned, andtook the field with more than his usual energy. One night, when akick from his horse as they both lay on the ground together broketwo of his ribs, and a cry arose that he was killed, he leaped intohis saddle, regardless of the pain he suffered, and rode throughthe camp. Day then appearing, he gave the word (still, of course,in that bruised and aching state) Forward! and led his army on tonear Falkirk, where the Scottish forces were seen drawn up on somestony ground, behind a morass. Here, he defeated Wallace, andkilled fifteen thousand of his men. With the shattered remainder,Wallace drew back to Stirling; but, being pursued, set fire to thetown that it might give no help to the English, and escaped. Theinhabitants of Perth afterwards set fire to their houses for thesame reason, and the King, unable to find provisions, was forced towithdraw his army.

　　Another Robert Bruce, the grandson of him who had disputed theScottish crown with Baliol, was now in arms against the King (thatelder Bruce being dead), and also John Comyn, Baliol's nephew.These two young men might agree in opposing Edward, but could agreein nothing else, as they were rivals for the throne of Scotland.Probably it was because they knew this, and knew what troubles mustarise even if they could hope to get the better of the greatEnglish King, that the principal Scottish people applied to thePope for his interference. The Pope, on the principle of losingnothing for want of trying to get it, very coolly claimed thatScotland belonged to him; but this was a little too much, and theParliament in a friendly manner told him so.

　　In the spring time of the year one thousand three hundred andthree, the King sent Sir John Segrave, whom he made Governor ofScotland, with twenty thousand men, to reduce the rebels. Sir Johnwas not as careful as he should have been, but encamped at Rosslyn,near Edinburgh, with his army divided into three parts. TheScottish forces saw their advantage; fell on each part separately;defeated each; and killed all the prisoners. Then, came the Kinghimself once more, as soon as a great army could be raised; hepassed through the whole north of Scotland, laying waste whatsoevercame in his way; and he took up his winter quarters at Dunfermline.The Scottish cause now looked so hopeless, that Comyn and the othernobles made submission and received their pardons. Wallace alonestood out. He was invited to surrender, though on no distinctpledge that his life should be spared; but he still defied theireful King, and lived among the steep crags of the Highland glens,where the eagles made their nests, and where the mountain torrentsroared, and the white snow was deep, and the bitter winds blewround his unsheltered head, as he lay through many a pitch-darknight wrapped up in his plaid. Nothing could break his spirit;nothing could lower his courage; nothing could induce him to forgetor to forgive his country's wrongs. Even when the Castle ofStirling, which had long held out, was besieged by the King withevery kind of military engine then in use; even when the lead uponcathedral roofs was taken down to help to make them; even when theKing, though an old man, commanded in the siege as if he were ayouth, being so resolved to conquer; even when the brave garrison(then found with amazement to be not two hundred people, includingseveral ladies) were starved and beaten out and were made to submiton their knees, and with every form of disgrace that couldaggravate their sufferings; even then, when there was not a ray ofhope in Scotland, William Wallace was as proud and firm as if hehad beheld the powerful and relentless Edward lying dead at hisfeet.

　　Who betrayed William Wallace in the end, is not quite certain.That he was betrayed - probably by an attendant - is too true. Hewas taken to the Castle of Dumbarton, under Sir John Menteith, andthence to London, where the great fame of his bravery andresolution attracted immense concourses of people to behold him.He was tried in Westminster Hall, with a crown of laurel on hishead - it is supposed because he was reported to have said that heought to wear, or that he would wear, a crown there and was foundguilty as a robber, a murderer, and a traitor. What they called arobber (he said to those who tried him) he was, because he hadtaken spoil from the King's men. What they called a murderer, hewas, because he had slain an insolent Englishman. What they calleda traitor, he was not, for he had never sworn allegiance to theKing, and had ever scorned to do it. He was dragged at the tailsof horses to West Smithfield, and there hanged on a high gallows,torn open before he was dead, beheaded, and quartered. His headwas set upon a pole on London Bridge, his right arm was sent toNewcastle, his left arm to Berwick, his legs to Perth and Aberdeen.But, if King Edward had had his body cut into inches, and had sentevery separate inch into a separate town, he could not havedispersed it half so far and wide as his fame. Wallace will beremembered in songs and stories, while there are songs and storiesin the English tongue, and Scotland will hold him dear while herlakes and mountains last.

　　Released from this dreaded enemy, the King made a fairer plan ofGovernment for Scotland, divided the offices of honour amongScottish gentlemen and English gentlemen, forgave past offences,and thought, in his old age, that his work was done.

　　But he deceived himself. Comyn and Bruce conspired, and made anappointment to meet at Dumfries, in the church of the Minorites.There is a story that Comyn was false to Bruce, and had informedagainst him to the King; that Bruce was warned of his danger andthe necessity of flight, by receiving, one night as he sat atsupper, from his friend the Earl of Gloucester, twelve pennies anda pair of spurs; that as he was riding angrily to keep hisappointment (through a snow-storm, with his horse's shoes reversedthat he might not be tracked), he met an evil-looking serving man,a messenger of Comyn, whom he killed, and concealed in whose dresshe found letters that proved Comyn's treachery. However this maybe, they were likely enough to quarrel in any case, being hot-headed rivals; and, whatever they quarrelled about, they certainlydid quarrel in the church where they met, and Bruce drew his daggerand stabbed Comyn, who fell upon the pavement. When Bruce cameout, pale and disturbed, the friends who were waiting for him askedwhat was the matter? 'I think I have killed Comyn,' said he. 'Youonly think so?' returned one of them; 'I will make sure!' and goinginto the church, and finding him alive, stabbed him again andagain. Knowing that the King would never forgive this new deed ofviolence, the party then declared Bruce King of Scotland: got himcrowned at Scone - without the chair; and set up the rebelliousstandard once again.

　　When the King heard of it he kindled with fiercer anger than he hadever shown yet. He caused the Prince of Wales and two hundred andseventy of the young nobility to be knighted - the trees in theTemple Gardens were cut down to make room for their tents, and theywatched their armour all night, according to the old usage: somein the Temple Church: some in Westminster Abbey - and at thepublic Feast which then took place, he swore, by Heaven, and by twoswans covered with gold network which his minstrels placed upon thetable, that he would avenge the death of Comyn, and would punishthe false Bruce. And before all the company, he charged the Princehis son, in case that he should die before accomplishing his vow,not to bury him until it was fulfilled. Next morning the Princeand the rest of the young Knights rode away to the Border-countryto join the English army; and the King, now weak and sick, followedin a horse-litter.

　　Bruce, after losing a battle and undergoing many dangers and muchmisery, fled to Ireland, where he lay concealed through the winter.That winter, Edward passed in hunting down and executing Bruce'srelations and adherents, sparing neither youth nor age, and showingno touch of pity or sign of mercy. In the following spring, Brucereappeared and gained some victories. In these frays, both sideswere grievously cruel. For instance - Bruce's two brothers, beingtaken captives desperately wounded, were ordered by the King toinstant execution. Bruce's friend Sir John Douglas, taking his ownCastle of Douglas out of the hands of an English Lord, roasted thedead bodies of the slaughtered garrison in a great fire made ofevery movable within it; which dreadful cookery his men called theDouglas Larder. Bruce, still successful, however, drove the Earlof Pembroke and the Earl of Gloucester into the Castle of Ayr andlaid siege to it.

　　The King, who had been laid up all the winter, but had directed thearmy from his sick-bed, now advanced to Carlisle, and there,causing the litter in which he had travelled to be placed in theCathedral as an offering to Heaven, mounted his horse once more,and for the last time. He was now sixty-nine years old, and hadreigned thirty-five years. He was so ill, that in four days hecould go no more than six miles; still, even at that pace, he wenton and resolutely kept his face towards the Border. At length, helay down at the village of Burgh-upon-Sands; and there, tellingthose around him to impress upon the Prince that he was to rememberhis father's vow, and was never to rest until he had thoroughlysubdued Scotland, he yielded up his last breath.