Stirling reduced, there wanted only one other surrender to complete the triumph of Edward—that of Wallace, the man who has made his name and the noblest patriotism synonymous to all time. Edward made every exertion, and offered high rewards for his apprehension. One Haliburton, a soldier of the late garrison of Stirling, so far showed his unworthiness to share in the glory of the late siege as to lend himself to this base purpose. Sir William was surprised and conveyed to the castle of Dumbarton. There Sir John Monteith was the commander; and Hume, following the traditions of the time, has accused Sir John of having been the betrayer of Wallace, whom he represents as his friend, and to whom he had made known his retreat. This foul accusation, however, has been clearly refuted by succeeding historians; and, indeed, it does not appear how tho governor of the castle, in the service of the English king, could be in a position to act the traitor towards him. The calumny may have arisen from the invidious duty which Sir John, as a Scotchman, was under the necessity of performing—that of retaining the prisoner in his charge, and conveying him to London.
Sir William Wallace, whose bravery and magnanimity deserved a very different treatment at the hands of a brave and martial king, was carried to London in chains as a traitor, though he had never acknowledged Edward as his sovereign, and owed him no fealty. In Stow, the London annalist, we can still perceive the sensation which the arrival of this famous warrior as a captive created in the metropolis. Crowds were assembled to gaze on him. He was conducted on horseback to Westminster by Sir John Segrave, late governor of Scotland, by the mayor, sheriffs, and aldermen of London, accompanied by other gentlemen; and in Westminster Hall he was insulted by being crowned with laurel when placed at the bar, because he had been reported to have said that ho ought to be crowned there. He was condemned as a traitor, and executed, with every circumstance of ignominy, at the Elms in West Smithfield, on the 23rd of August, 1305. To this place he was drawn at the tails of horses; and, after being hanged on the gallows, while he yet breathed, his bowels were taken out and burnt before his face. His head was then struck off, his body divided into quarters, one of which was sent to be exposed at Newcastle, another at Berwick, a third at Perth, and the fourth at Aberdeen; his head being stuck on a pole on London Bridge. So much did they in that day fail to perceive the everlasting infamy attendant on the unworthy treatment of the nobles of our race—the intrepid defenders of the liberties of their country. The barbarous policy of the English king produced the very results that he sought to prevent. The whole Scottish nation resented with inexpressible indignation this disgraceful outrage perpetrated on their national hero. Everywhere the people burned with fury against England, and were ready to rise at the call of some surviving patriot.
Such a man was not long in presenting himself. Robert Bruce had not forgotten the words of fire which Wallace had addressed to him across the Carron as he was in slow and reluctant retreat from tho battle of Falkirk. He remembered how he had called upon him to come forth from crouching to tho tyrant; to come forth from servile submission to a glorious independence; to remember the royalty of his birth, the dignity of his family, tho genius and tho energies which God and nature had conferred upon him, and the profound responsibility which these had laid him under to his country. Ho recalled the majestic figure of that illustrious man as he bade him behold tho glorious prize which Heaven itself had set before him, the most glorious which could possibly be awarded to man—that of ending the sufferings of his country; that of converting its groans, its tears of blood and shame, into cries of exultation, and of placing his native laud on the firm basis of national independence.
The last spur was now given to the spirit of Brace. The words of Wallace to him were now become so many sacred commands. Wallace had declared that while he himself lived, it should only be to defend the liberties of his people; and he prayed that his life might terminate when he was reduced to wear the chains of the tyrant. He had been compelled to wear them by treason, and he had perished in his greatness. No indignities, no attempted humiliations, could pluck from him the sublime immortality of the martyr—the beautiful halo of a nation's homage. The die was cast for Robert Bruce. The spirit of Wallace had fallen upon him; henceforth he must spurn the blandishments of the English king, and tread the same path to death or victory.
And, indeed, Bruce had much to risk as well as to aspire to. His father had remained to the last attached to the English interests. On his death, in 1304, Edward had fully invested him with all his hereditary rights, titles, and estates, both in England and Scotland. He had all that the most ambitious nobleman could desire, short of the crown itself. For that crown, the host of conflicting and, for the most part, unworthy competitors had afforded him at least plausible ground for standing aloof and leaning towards the English power which held them in chock. He had accordingly been honoured when other of the greatest men of the realm had been fined, mulcted, and punished. He had been entrusted with considerable commands; amongst others, with the important fortress of Kildrummie, in Aberdeenshire. But now things were come to such a pitch between the English king and his country, that there could be no longer any wavering in the bosom of a true man. Edward appeared resolved to reduce Scotland to the condition of a conquered province. If he setup a nominal king in place of the imbecile Baliol, it would be Comyn, whom he regarded as a traitor. It was time to reveal himself as his country's champion.
Edward having once more finished his work of subjugation, and all Scotland lying prostrate at his feet, he now set to work about the important task of so modelling the government and administration of the country that it should most completely remain in his grasp as a permanent portion of his realm. For this purpose he appointed a council, so called, of the Scottish nation. This was to consist of two bishops, two abbots, two earls, two barons, and two representatives of the boroughs, who were to assemble in London, and to sit, in conjunction with twenty commissioners of the English Parliament, to frame a constitution for the conquered territory. But this council, as was intended, carried things with a high hand against the people of Scotland. It cleared away all the Scottish laws and customs at a sweep, and substi-
