University of Virginia Library

CHAP. II. How WALLACE slew McFadzean.

Then Wallace march'd to view McFadzean's Host,
Of Savages, and Knaves, made up almost.
By Stirling Castle held to the South Hand,
Which that great Rogue Old Ruickby, did command.
To Earl Malcom, Wallace looking back,
What would you think this Fortress to attack.
And it reduce, by some new Stratagem,
All good said he, so said Sir John the Graham.
Wallace, his Men then he divided so,
That his true Strength the English should not know.
The Earl lay in Ambush out of Sight,
Wallace with him took good Sir John the Knight.
A Hundred brave bold Scots do him attend,
Who never turn'd their Backs on English Men.
Thro' Stirling Town, straight to the Bridge rode they,
In noble Order, and in good array.
Whom when old Ruickby narrowlly did view.
Caus'd Sevenscore Archers presently pursue.
And them engage, but Wallace void of fear.
Into his Hand holding a noble Spear.
He fiercely towards those proud Archers drew,
And on the spot the first that met, him slew,
Sir John the Graham, none could him there withstand,
Who also had a good Spear in his Hand:
The first he met, to present Death was sent,
His Spear in Pieces on the Second went.
His gallant Sword then drew he out with speed,
A noble Friend to him in Time of Need.
Fresh English Archers, round about him drew,
And with their Arrows his brave Horse they slew.
When Wallace saw, that good Sir John was put
To such Distress, and that he fought on Foot,
He with some others, from their Horse alight,
And quickly put the Suthron all to flight.
Who to the Castle back thought to repair,
But Earl Malcom bauk'd their Fancy there.
Betwixt them and the Castle-Gate he got
Where he kill'd many English Men of Note.
Into the Throng Wallace with Ruickby met,
Of the old Rogue there such a Stroke did get;
As made his Head upon the Field to dance,
But his two Sons by Accident and Chance
Into the Castle whence they came before,
With Thirty Men escaped and no more.
The Lennox Men, both stout and bold also,
There from the Castle would not stir nor go,
But carefully besieg'd it round about,
As knowing well it could not long stand out.
The Siege goes on, unto the Earl's Mind,
But Wallace he pursues his first Design.
To fight McFadzean that most bloody Rogue,
Who for his Villany did bear the Vogue.
Against him Wallace vow'd and swore Revenge,
From which his Mind ne'er alter should nor change.
That till he had the Honour to put down,
That wicked Tyrant he should ne'er sleep sound.
At Stirling Bridge, assembled to him then,
Two thousand brave, and valiant Scottish Men.
Who to Argyll in noble Order ride.
Duncan of Lorn, he was their trusty Guide.
By this Time Ruickby's Sons did fancy that,
It was Time for them to capitulat.
And with the Earl Malcom for to treat,
Who were both destitute of Men and Meat.
That on Condition he their Lives wou'd spare,
And Mercy grant to all the rest were there:
And give them safe-guard to their native Land,
They would resign both Castle and Command.
The Articles were sign'd that very Day,
Then Bag and Baggage they march all away,
Now Wallace he is gone with all his Force,
Against the Rogue McFadzean, Foot and Horse.
Duncan of Lorn, Gilmichael as a Spy
Has sent; who knew the Country perfectly.
Scarce by Strathfillan was the Army gone,
Till Horse and Foot were like to faint each one.
Brave Lads said Wallace, it's not Time for us,
In broken Ranks to meet the En'my thus.
The feebler Sort let them still following be,
The Rest shall march into Divisions Three.
Five Hundred first, unto himself he told,
Of Westland-Men, all sturdy stout and bold.
Five Hundred next, Sir John the Graham he got,
Lundie Five Hundred more, all Men of Note.
'Mongst whom was Wallace stout of Riccardtoun,
Who at a Pinch a sturdy Friend was found.
Five Hundred of the Weak, were left behind,
Tho' cross unto, and sore against their Mind.
Thus Wallace Host began to take the Hight,
Then o'er a Mountain marched out of Sight.
Into Glendocher, they met with their Spy,
And good Lord Campbel who couragiously,
Led now Three Hundred valiant chosen Men,
A merry Meeting was betwixt them then.
Chear up he said, and never dread your Foes,
Yon silly Beasts, have neither Arms nor Cloaths
Soon shall they fly, and shortly we pursue,
Then to Lochdocher speedily they drew.
Where Wallace said, one Fate to all shall be,
Since here is none, will from his Fellow flee.
Upon the Moss an out-spy does appear,
To see if Roads, and Passes, all be clear.
McFadzean for that purpose had him sent,
Who shortly after thought his Time ill spent,
Gilmichael at the Rogue nimbly did make,
With a good Sword, and did him overtake,
Thro' fear the Fellow there, beshit his Trews,
And ne'er return'd to tell his Master News.
The Cavalry are forced now to light,
And quite their Horses, tho', both fresh and tight.
The Moss and Craigs, them to their shifts did put.
Let's see quoth Wallace, who walks best on Foot
Out thro' the Moor his Men does bravely lead,
Into a Strength, which Service did indeed,
Enlong the shoar, Three in the Front they past,
Till all the Men March'd safely up at last.
Yon Folk Lord Campbel said, I'll paun my Neck,
Shall get a metting they doe not Expect.
I see no Way they have from us to sly,
But Waters deep, and craigy Mountains high.
Then Eighteen hundered valiant Scots indeed,
Attack McFadzean's numerous Host with speed.
Upon their Front, great Havock soon did make,
The frighted Foes surpris'd, with Terrour shake.
Yet Boldly Ralzie, and together rush,
Till Wallace does them with such fierceness push:
That furiously, with dreadfull stroaks and sore,
He drave them back Five Aikers breadth and more;
In modest speaking; with good Swords of Steell,
He made them Dance, a Sore and Bloody Reell.
Whom e'er he hit, no longer there could stand,
Made room about him, a large Rude of Land.
Sir John the Graham, did show his warlick Art,
Lord Campbell als, and Lundie play'd their Part.
Stout Adam Wallace, and good Robert Boyd,
Where e'er they came, cut down, and all destroy'd
The Conflict grew so verie sharp and Hot,
And the Mcfadzean, fought so on the spot:
With Irish Men, that hardy were and stout,
The Victory for some Time stood in doubt
The Bloody streams, from Front, to Rear did run,
And many a Man lay gasping on the Ground.
For Two long Hours, they fought it Hand to Fist
Untill the very stoutest gladly wish'd,
For some respite; their wearied Arms to rest,
As yet none knew, which of them had the best.
So fiercely fought McFadzean's cruel Currs;
But Wallace Men, together stuck like Burrs.
So Hardy were, so Valiant and so Good,
Made great Effusion of the En'my's Blood.
With Sword in Hand, they fiercely forward throng,
Made fearful Slops their cruel Foes among.
Numbers of Irish, sleep'd in a cold Bed,
The rest wheel'd to the Left about, and fled.
O'er Craigy Rocks, some fell thro' great Despair,
And in the Water drown'd Two thousand were.
McFadzean's Scots-born Men, stay'd on the Field,
Threw down their Arms, and on their Knees they kneel'd;
On Wallace loudly cry and Mercy crave
Who gen'rously them gallant Quarters gave
They'r our own Blood he said, both Man and Boy
Such Penitents, can any Heart destroy?
Then ordered all Scots Men that were found,
To save alive but Forreigners cut down.
McFadzean fled, and is with Fifty gone
Under Craigmore, unto a Cave of Stone.
Duncan of Lorn, from Wallace asketh Leave,
To pay a Visit to this ancient Cave.
Which Wallace grants, then quickly does him send
With a Detachment of some sturdy Men.
Who soon dispatch'd the Fifty, kill'd them dead,
And then brought back the Rogue McFadzean's Head.
Thro' all the Field, they show the Villain's Face
Upon a Spear unto his great Disgrace.
High on Craigmore, Lord Campbel made it stand
Upon a Pole for Honour of Ireland.
The best Men there that were of Scotland born
To Wallace they Fidelity have sworn.
He did protect all came unto his Peace,
So pitiful he was and full of Grace.
Then after all straight way to Lorn he went,
And rul'd the Land unto their great Content.
A Councel at Archattan did proclaim,
Where many came, so soon's they heard his Name
From ev'ry Art; and humbly Thanks they gave,
With joyful Hearts, unto their Warden brave.
All Lorn he gave to Duncan stout and wight,
Who always acted what was just and right.
Brook thou this Land, as thy true Heritage,
And for thy Brother's Son, that taketh Wage
From Edward; If he will return shall have
His Lands, I'll lose no Man that I can save.
Of worthy Scots, to Wallace not a few,
Unto Archattan, from their Strengths withdrew
Brave Sir John Ramsay, who with Heart and Hand,
Did still stand up for his true native Land:
Of noble Blood, and ancient Pedigree,
To Wallace there, with Sixty Men came he.
Who 'gainst the English did great Danger risk,
And was so Stout, Couragious, and Brisk:
He from his Faith was never known to flinch,
Nor to King Edward, ever yield an Inch.
Into Strochane, a long Time there did lye,
And fought the Suthron always valiantly.
Who, him and his, did grievously oppress,
His Son was call'd the flow'r of Courtliness.
Who otherways dare say, do him traduce,
If they'l but read the History of Bruce.
They'l find recorded there his glorious Fame,
Brave Alexander was his Christian Name.
In Peace, and War, he always ruled well,
Such was his Courage, Conduct and his Skill.
In Time of War, for Honour did contest,
Of the Crown's Friends, was thought one of the best.
In Time of Peace, he never had a Peel,
So courteous he was, and so Genteel.
Ambitiously, each, his Acquaintaince sought,
Of Manners he was Quintessence thought.
Freely and truly at all Times he spoke,
And what he promis'd never ru'd, nor broke.
Roxburgh he won, and held it faithfully,
Till Traytors thro' their Treason caus'd him dye,
But in what cursed Way and Manner how,
It is not proper to relate it now,
And on that Subject we shall talk no more.
His Father came, as I have told before:
Who cheerfully, great willingness did show,
For to assist against the common Foe.
Each Man did him esteem, and highly prise,
In War; for Sober, Vigilant and Wise:
A Prelate next, unto Ardchattan came,
Who of his Lordship, nought had but the Name.
He worthy was, both prudent, grave, and Sage,
Of sinclair Blood, not Fourty Years of Age.
The Pope to save poor sinfull Souls from Hell,
Did him creat Lord Bishop of Dunkel.
But English men, thro' greed and avarice,
Depriv'd him basely of his benefice.
Not knowing then to whom to make his sute,
To save his Life dwelt three full Years in Bute.
During which space he was kep't safe and sound
And under the Lord Stuart Shalter found.
Till Waallce who won Scotland back with Pain,
Restor'd him to his Livings all again.
With many more who were all overthrown,
By English, and restored unto their own.
Wallace small Host of whom I spoke of late,
Having the Rogue McFadzean now defeat
Return'd unto the Field where they had fought,
Got Arms and Spoil behind them left they nought.
Thro' Lorn they march, as handsome as they can,
And on their Number scarce had lost a Man.
On the Fifth Day, unto Ardchattan went,
Where they sound Wallace blyth, and well content,
His Men he welcoms, highly sound their Praise,
Who did behave themselves so well always.
Take all the Spoil said he falls to my share,
I fight for Honour, for no more I care.