University of Virginia Library

LIFE AND HEROICK ACTIONS OF THE RENOUN'D Sir William Wallace,

GENERAL and GOVERNOUR OF SCOTLAND.

The First BOOK OF Sir William Wallace

The Second BOOK OF Sir William Wallace

CHAP. I. How WALLACE kill'd the Churle with his own Saff in Air.

Young Wallace now cliver of Lith and Limb,
With gracefull Air appears, both Tight and Trim;
Which with his many other youthfull Charms,
Confounds the South'ron, highly them alarms.
His glorious Actions early did presage,
A humbling Stroak to cruel South'ron Rage:
Which did so many of his Friends destroy,
As scarce was known since Adam was a Boy.
Yet the late fishing, makes poor Wallace fond
At Ochter-House a little to abscond;
Then to the Laigland-Wood when it grew late,
To make a silent and a soft retreat.
Some little Time thereafter did repair,
Unto the pleasant ancient Town of Air;
Closs by the Wood did there dismount his Horse,
Then on his Foot walk'd gravely to the Cross.
Lord Piercy did command the Castle then,
And the whole Town did swarm with Englishmen.
Which sight no doubt did Wallace much confound,
Yet never dash'd, but briskly walk'd around;
Tho' some affirm, which I am apt to trow,
He in his Heart curs'd the Barbarian Crew.
And being prompted by his youthful Age,
Could scarce refrain his Passion and his Rage.
But passing over this, I now make haste,
To entertain you with a handsome Jest,
Into the Town liv'd a hudge English Fellow,
All overgrow'n with Gutts of T---rd and Tallow
Who greatly brag'd of his prodigious Strength,
Which cost him dear as you shall hear at length,
A greater burden said this Prince of Sotts
He'd bear, than any Three good sturdy Scots,
And with a Staff like a Stage-dancers Pole,
For one poor Groat he would permit and thole:
The strongest Man to beat him on the Back;
So imprudently did the Carle crack.
Which Story when it came to Wallace Ear,
To smile and laugh he scarce could well forbear;
He told the Fellow that he would be willing,
For one Scots blow to give an English Shilling.
The greedy Wretch did freely condescend,
Which quickly brought him to his fatal End:
Then Wallace gave him such a dreadful Thump
Upon his back, closs by his great fat Rump,
That to the View of all were present there,
He clave his Rig-bone, and he ne'er spake mair:
Thus dy'd the Wretch for a poor Price and small,
And his great English Hurdies pay'd for all.
With Swords round Wallace then the English flock
He no Ways dash'd did his Steel Bonnet cock,
And struck a South'ron with that trusty Tree,
Out ov'r the Head till Brains and Bones did flee,
Then cliverly with such good Will and Luck,
On the Steel Baisnet hath another struck,
Till, tho', the noble Tree it frush'd and rave,
He kill'd the Fellow and turn'd to the lave;
Then with an awful grace he made a paw,
And out his Sword with Majesty did draw;
Which clear'd his way like a true Friend indeed,
And quickly help'd him to a sturdie Steed.
Two soutie Fellows there, that griev'd him most
He dous'd their Doublets rarely to their Cost:
His anger kindled, to such height it grew,
With one good stroak the foremost there he slew,
A Blow he got upon the other Knave;
Till his good Sword, down thro' his Body drave.
Five South'ron he 'twixt Hope and great Despair,
Kill'd on the Spot; now was not that right fair.
Out thro' the Town, his Way did cleanly force,
Made his Escape and then did mount his Horse:
To Langlands fled, his Time he well did use,
And left the Blades all sleeping in their Shoes.
Him Foot and Horse pursue to overtake,
But the thick Trees his Refuge he did make;
Provisions come to him from Ochter House,
And ev'ry Thing that was fit for his use:
Such necessarys they to him afford,
As [illeg.] suply him, both to Bed and Board.
Good Wallace then upon a Time at length,
Return'd to Air, as he recover'd strength,
But ah it prov'd a most unlucky Day,
I wish to Jove that he had stay'd away,
Sir Rannald's Servant for some Fish he sent,
That Errand O! that Wallace had miskent,
For as you'll quickly understand, and hear,
The Sauce was Sharp, and cost him very dear.

CHAP. II. How WALLACE kill'd Lord Piercies Steward, and was imprison'd in Air.

The Fish no sooner had the Servant got,
Then Piercies Stewart called, and said Scot,
For whom buys thou those Fish thou carrys there,
Who answer'd Sir, for the Sheriff of Air.
By Heaven's King, the Stewart rudely swore,
My Lord shall have them, thou may purchase more;
Wallace incens'd with Anger, standing by,
Said why such rudeness, tell the Reason why,
This fired soon the haughty Stewarts Blood,
Who thought what Wallace spoke, was next to rude,
And did his Stomach so with Venom fill,
As might the vilest loathsome Spider kill.
Go hence said he, thou saucy Scot with speed,
Thee and thy Sheriff both I mock indeed.
Then with his hunting Staff he Wallace smote,
But he had better kiss'd his Bum, poor Sott.
For Wallace by the Throat him quickly caught,
And the proud Stewart better Manners taught.
Then from his Pocket pull'd a Dagger-Knife,
Which twinn'd the foolish Coxcomb of his Life.
But Ah! Alass, how quick assembled then
Fourscore at least, well harnish'd English-Men:
Whose Post it was to watch and guard the Town,
There suddenly poor Wallace they surround.
At them he star'd and never spoke a Word,
But boldly drew his awful daring Sword:
And cliverly unto his Feet did get,
And stick'd the foremost Fellow that he met.
Upon the Knee another hit he so,
That Moment made the Bone asunder go.
Nor can I say the Third had better luck,
Who got his Neck in two most cleanly cut.
Thus Wallace rag'd and ramped Lion like,
And made the Carles strangely fidge and fyke.
No wonder for they got most grievous Wounds,
So desp'rately he claw'd their South'ron Crowns.
And tho' the Gate with Sword and Spears they keep,
He hew'd them down like heartless sillie Sheep:
Yea when they him inviron'd round about,
Quite thro' the Press he suddenly broke out,
Unto a Wall was built by the Sea-side,
Where in his own Defence he did abide.
Till from the Castle issu'd one and all,
Got on a Dyke, and then broke down the Wall.
No shift he had but there to fight or die,
Great Numbers then he hew'd down hastily:
So furiously out thro' the South'ron past,
But Oh! his noble Sword did burst at last,
Broke from the Hilt, he knew of no Remeed,
Then stoutly drew his Dagger out with speed.
One there he kill'd, and other Two he sent
To Death, the same way that the first Chiell went
But at the last, his Foes on ev'ry Hand
They rudely rush with Spears, and him command.
Such was their pity they forbid to slay,
But starve with Hunger, till he'd pine away.
Thus they the sacred Scriptures verify,
The Wicked's Mercy's are meer Cruelty.
With English now he's Pris'ner gone at will,
Had he got Help he would have fought them still.
To speak of Ransom that was all in vain,
Because that Day so many he had slain.
His Trouble here I scarcely well can tell,
His Prison much resembled that of Hell.
Such Meat and Drink as they to him allow,
Would kill and Poison ev'n a very Sow.
But here I leave him in this doleful Case,
Till Providence shall order his Release.
The woeful Weeping and the piteous Moan
Was made for him, would rent a Heart of Stone;
No Comfort here to dissipate their Fears,
Nought to be seen but pale Cheeks stain'd with Tears.
Alass said they, can Life endure to see,
Wallace imprison'd, by the Enemy:
The Flow'r of Youth in sweet and tender Age,
Made subject to the cruel Saxon Rage.
Living this Day a Chiftain there is none,
Like the young Wallace; for its he alone,
That's capable of Scotland to take care,
But now he's caught into the woeful Snare.

CHAP. III. How WALLACE was imprisoned in Air, and escaped.

CHAP. IV. The Battle of LOUDON-HILL.

The Third BOOK OF Sir William Wallace

CHAP. I. How WALLACE revenged the Slaughter of his Father, and of his Brother on LOWDON-HILL.

CHAP. II. How the English Men made Peace with WALLACE.

CHAP. III. How WALLACE slew the Buckler-player in the Town of Air.

But Wallace Wight still tholing in his Breast
His Countrys Wrongs, at Crosbie could not rest,
Much did he grane in Travel for to be,
And sorely long'd the Town of Air to see.
So with Sir. Rannald passing on a Day,
Fifteen he took and to the Town went they.
Disguis'd they went, and in the Gate they saw
An English Fencer at the Weapon shaw.
There as he stood, his Buckler in his Hand,
Wallace near by a looker on did stand.
Lightly he said, Scot darst thou 'sye a stroke?
Quoth Wallace, yea, gan thou dar'st with me Yoke,
Smite on he said, thy Nation I defy;
Wallace therewith a fleg at him let fly;
The Sword so fell was on the Buckler cast,
Clear thro' his Harns it to his Shoulder past.
Lightly returning to his Men again,
The Women made a Din our Fencer's slain.
The Man is dead; what need's of Words mair?
Fell Men of Arms then round him 'sembled there.
Eight Score at once upon Sixteen they set;
But Wallace quickly with the foremost met,
And lent him with good will a fearful Blow,
That thro' the Helmet shatter'd all his Pow.
Syne strake another so the Breast aboon,
The Sword went clear throughout th'unsonsy Loon,
Great Room he made, so did his trusty Men,
Till many a feckful Chiel that Day was slain.
For they were Wight, and well train'd up in Weir,
On English-Men right boldly did they bear.
Great Slaughter of the Enemies they made;
Their hardy Chief so well about him laid;
Till from the Castle new Recruits they spy'd.
Which Wallace seeing, wisely turn'd aside,
Thinking it safest to evite Surprise;
For he in War was not more Wight than Wise.
Then thro' the Throng as by main Force he past,
Their Harns and Heads asunder hew'd he fast.
Himself return'd the hindmost in the Rear,
Till he had brought his Men quite out of Fear.
Then to their Horse they went; thereafter rode
For better safety to the Laglan Wood.
Twenty and Nine they fell in that days Feed
Of Southeron Men that nevel'd were to Dead.
The Remnant to the Town did flee amain,
Cursing the Peace with Wallace they had tane,
Earl Piercy at the Heart was sorely griev'd
To find his Men thus wofully mischiev'd.
Three of his Kinsmen whom he held full dear,
Were slain that fatal Day in Armour clear.
Great moan he made, then to Sir Rannald sent
A Herald, charging him incontinent,
Wallace to keep from Market, Town and Fair,
(Skaith to prevent) where South'ron did repair.
The South'ron knew it Wallace was alone,
That them on this Mischance had overthrown,
And therefore kept the Truce made on their Word,
And liv'd with other Scots in good Accord.
Now Wallace on a Night from Laglane rade
To Corsbie, where the Knight his Uncle bade.
Upon the Morn, by it was peep of Day
Came in Sir Rannald where Wight Wallace lay,
Shew'd him the Writ Earl Piercy to him sent,
And did entreat that he would give Consent
To do no Skaith to any English born,
Until the Truce were ended which was sworn.
Said Wallace, nought of Harm's be done by me,
That you may grieve, while I abide with thee.
His Uncle with him then accorded was,
And bad him welcome there his Time to pass.
There did he bide the Space of Seventeen Days,
Obey'd in ilky Thing that might him please.
But in his Mind remain'd another Thing;
Nor could he rest him tho' he were a King,
Till he his Friends, and native Land might see
From Thraldom, and proud English Lowns set free.

The Fourth BOOK OF Sir William Wallace

CHAP. I. How WALLACE won the Peel of Gargunnock.

CHAP. II. How WALLACE past to Saint-Johnstoun, slew the Captain, and won Kinclevin.

Now Wallace grieving idle thus to be
Resolv'd at length Saint-Johnstoun for to see.
Seven Men went with him graith'd in Armour clear;
The rest he left to Steen of Ireland's Care.
Changing his Name he Entrance soon obtain'd;
Oft heard himself miscall'd, and sore disdain'd.
But well dissembling his Intent, he chose
At a young Maiden's Mansion to live close;
A gentle loving Creature, mild and meek,
Who often squeez'd his Hand, and clap'd his Cheek.
From her he learn'd how Things with Southerons went;
For ay to do them Skaith his Will was bent.
Butler, he heard, an Aged cruel Knight,
Kinclevin kept, a Castle wondrous Wight.
Glad of the Tale, he straight way did repair
To Methwin Wood, among his Comerades there.
Syne drew them up, and march'd in good Array
Along the green and bonny Banks of Tay.
Approach'd the Castle silently and slow,
That of his coming Southerons might not know.
But they within, fearful of sudden Harms,
Were quickly all a stir, and up in Arms.
Then did a fierce and cruel Fight ensue,
As ever was maintain'd among so few.
But Wallace still the foremost of the Fray,
Soon gave the English Loons right Scots-Man's Play.
Oft did he pierce their Battel thro' and thro',
And at each Onset many hack'd and slew.
Butler himself came Wallace to withstand;
But who could grapple Wallace Hand to Hand?
Sore did the Knight the rash Adventure rue;
For with one Stroke his Head in sunder flew.
Their Chiftain slain, the Remnant English fled,
Behind them leaving Threescore Soldiers Dead.
The Castle yielding, after some short stay,
They set on Fire, then brought their Gear away.
Syne Wallace wisely all his Men withdraws;
And lodges safely in the Short-Wood Shaws.

CHAP. III. SHORT-WOOD Shaws.

The English then that in Saint-Johnstoun lay,
Soon hearing of this fierce and fatal Fray,
Vowing Revenge, a Thousand Men of War
Sent tow'rds the Wood, right awful in Effeir.
These partly Sir John Butler did command
A valiant Chief, as any in the Land,
Seeking on Wallace well aveng'd to be,
Who at Kinclevin caus'd his Father die.
The like sought Loran, who from Gowrie came;
For th'Umquhile Sir James Butler was his Eme.
Into the Shaw their Men came pouring in,
Archers, and Spearmen, with a dreadful Din.
But Wallace undismaid, so plac'd his Crew
Best to defend themselves, for they were Few.
Then did a fell and bloody Stour begin,
As scarce before on Tay was ever seen.
Such Deeds were wrought, as truly 'twere a Crime,
Them to descrive in our unlearned Rhime.
How Arms met Arms, and Swords went clishy clash,
For rural Lays to sing would be too rash.
Of Wallace is my chief Intent to speak;
Much did he toil, and oft their Ranks did break.
Upon young Butler lighting at the length,
Against him sole he guided all his Strength;
A manful Stroke at him then letting flee,
Defended underneath a bowing Tree,
The Branch came down so weighty on his Head,
As in an Instant fell'd the Chiftain Dead.
Loran to see his Friend so fall was woe,
So flew on Wallace an enraged Foe.
But he, defending with his awful Blade,
Dead at his Feet the doughty Younker laid.
The worthy Scots did nobly all that Day,
And drove their Foes with Shame at length away.
Seven of their Number fell in Fight no more;
But of the Southeron Race at least Six-score.
Now fearing least their Foes should gather new
Recruits, and them with num'rous Bands pursue,
To Methwin Wood they went e're it was dark,
And thence retreated into Elchoke Park.

CHAP. IV. How WALLACE was sold to the English-Men by his Leman.

Here while they tarry'd Wallace took a Bee
Into his Head that Maiden for to see,
Of whom we spoke before; a Friar's Gown
He to disguise his Personage puts on;
Then hies him to Saint-Johnstoun might and main;
To meet the Dame he was so wondrous fain.
There having past a Night, in wanton Play,
He made a Tryst, to come another Day.
Mean Time the Southerons did corrupt the Maid
With Gold, to have him when he came, betray'd.
According to his Tryst, he came in haste,
Incontinent into her Chamber past.
What they did there, who reads, may rightly spell;
And certes 'twere unmeet for me to tell.
Their Dalliance past, it smote the Damsel's Mind,
To lose a Love so trusty and so kind.
With bitter Wailings then to him made known
The Case, and pray'd him quickly to be gone.
Her Crime he pardon'd with a loving Kiss,
Wip'd off her Tears, nor took her Fault amiss.
Then straight way putting on her Female Weed,
Betakes him to the Gate with utmost Speed.
Past unsuspect by all the Watch, but Twain,
Who wonder'd much at such a sturdy Queen.
Him they pursu'd till getting out of Cry,
He faces him about, their Strength to try;
Pulls out a Brand, was hid beneath his Weed,
And laid upon them, till they both were Dead.
Then hastes him to his Men he left behind,
Such Hazard is in trusting Woman-kind.

The Fifth BOOK OF Sir William Wallace

The Sixth BOOK OF Sir William Wallace.

CHAP. I.

Now had cold February spent its Store,
And Boreas rushing Blasts offend no more;
No more the Hurricane embroils the Deep,
And driving Winds on its smooth Surface sleep:
No more the Plains in standing Lakes appear,
And March had spent the Winter of the Year.
Now April joyous Mouth; its Course begun,
And hoary Snows now melted to the Sun,
A springing Verdure crowns the happy Land,
And smiling Nature own'd rhe Summer's Hand.
While thus the Earth smiles in its Gayity,
And Summer Weeds adorn each springing Tree:
The busy Nymphs renew their annual Toil,
And build their Grott's perfum'd with Balm and Oil,
Each blythsome Hour, in Ranks they dance along,
And the pleas'd Hunter listens to their Song.
In this blest June when all conspir'd to move,
His manly Soul with the soft Flame of Love,
Our Knight to Lanerk went of new again,
Seiz'd with the Pangs of his returning Pain,
He runs with Joy to meet his lovely Fair,
Nor reck'd he of his English Foes since she was there:
The subtile Flame feirce roll'd within his Breast,
Hot in his Pain he thought ne'er one so blest.
Sometimes the Thought of Conquest wou'd return,
And fierce Ambition in his Bosom burn;
His Country's Glory rise before his sight,
And Love's soft Joys yeild to the Toils of Fight;
At other Times, Love wou'd usurp again,
Fair Glory's Charms decay, and War subside again.
Shall I no more hear the fierce Battles rage,
No more in bloody Fields my Foes engage,
Shall Love's imperious Powers thus controul
My easy Heart, and move my pliant Soul:
What Plague is this? This Bane of Mortals Love?
That me from Arms of Glory wou'd remove.
My Honour calls, and nothing e're shall make,
Me lose my Honour for my Pleasure's sake;
To War I will, and shine in Arms again,
And Love shall spread its Silken Chains in Vain.
While thus the Heroe spent his anxious Life,
And Love and Honour held the doubtful Strife,
Alternate Passions rul'd his wav'ring Mind,
And now to this, and now that inclin'd.
At last resolv'd to finish all his Grief,
And give his mourning Soul a sure Relief:
To wed with holy Love the beauteous Dame,
Give loose to his Desire, and quench the sacred Flame.
And dow the Morning its fair Beams display'd,
And Musick wakened into bless the Maid.
Conubial Hymen wav'd his Torch on high,
And bad their future Life, compleatest Joy;
Now live in strictest Unity of Love,
And for all jarring Dissonance remove;
Let wing'd with Pleasure the soft Minutes flow,
And lasting Bless no Interruption know.
A rising Joy now dawns within his Breast,
Of all that Heaven cou'd bestow possest:
With Pleasure, now he runs his Dangers o'er,
And Fortune's various Face offends no more;
In her alone he places his Delight,
And Joy arises from her only Sight:
While with like Heat, her faithful Bosom warms,
For in his Time he was the Flow'r of Arms;
Thus blooming Love extends his soft Command,
And joyful Hymen reigns with equal Hand.
While now the Heroe far from Wars alarms,
Enjoys all Pleasure in his Consort's Arms;
His former Love of Glory fires again
His Martial Soul, and prompts him to the Plain;
To bear aloft again the Patriot Shield,
And vindicate his Country in the Field:
His burning Breast glows yet with Fields unfought,
And future Triumphs rise upon his Thought.
Now leave thy Mirth, and seek thy Country's Foes,
Tho' round thy Head the gath'ring Battle glows
Go leave thy Love or glorious Freedom lose.
Which ne'er on Earth shall be Redeem'd again,
Go live in War, go live in cruel Pain:
And then just GOD, who does this World sustain,
Let not this Thrist of Vengeance be in vain.
Let Heav'n with due Success still crown the Just,
And lay the proud Oppressor in the Dust.
But now his faithful Wife, employs his Care,
Expos'd to all the common Ills of War;
Shou'd he by adverse Fate be forc'd to yeild,
And to the Foe give up the vanquish'd Field:
A Thousand sad corroding Cares infest,
And Fate hangs gloomy on his anxious Breast.
Far from the hoarse Noise of the thund'ring War,
He wou'd remove the Object of his Care;
But sad with Grief relents his bleeding Heart,
And his Thoughts shrink, at the dread Word to part.
'Twas now the Time when all to Rest repair,
And weary Wretches laid aside each Care;
When with fond Arms the fair Fidelia prest,
Her panting Heroe to her snowy Breast;
With Grief she found the rising Tears bedew
His manly Face, and heard the Sighs he drew:
With frequent Sobs her heaving Bosom rose,
And catch'd the dear Infection of his Woes;
On her pale Cheeks does livid Paleness rise,
And Sorrow speaks in Silence from her Eyes:
Then with a Groan thus he, long I've supprest,
The struggling Passion in my labouring Breast;
But now all sad Restraints at once give way,
Fierce Sorrow bids me speak, and I obey;
Behold our Native Country drown'd in Tears,
Around one general Face of Woe appears.
In vain we're blest with kind indulgent Skies,
And Suns in vain, with genial Ardor rise,
In vain a yellow Harvest crowns the Plain,
And nodding Boughs their golden Load sustain:
The Peasant comfortless repining stands,
And sees his Harvest reap'd by others Hands;
See the fierce Soldier rages o'er the Land,
The Flames wide spreading from the Hostile Hand:
Those shining Spires who lately pierc'd the Sky,
Now equal with the Ground in Ruins lye,
O dire and curst Effects of Slavery.
Yet once I nobly durst assert her Right,
Bold in her Cause, and dauntless in each Fight;
But now the useless Sword is laid aside,
And my once faithful Helm long been untry'd,
But now the Tyrants Pow'r we dare restrain,
And Liberty shall rear her Head again:
With fell Revenge another War prepare,
Bend the long unstrung Bow, and launch the rusty Spear.
Now all around the Chief they listning stand,
Each his keen Sabre threatning in his Hand,
And eagerly devour his last Command.
Enough my Friends, enough has Scotia born,
The Foes insulting and her Sons forlorn.
The trembling Peasant wild with dread Affright,
Shrink from the Wars rude Shock and ruthless Fight.
Resigns his Riches to the Oppressors Hand,
And sees another's Sickle reap his Land.
And long we not to urge our Fate again,
Glows not each Breast, and swells not ev'ry Vein?
Does not our Heart with love of Freedom burn,
And once again our exil'd Souls return.
Where are those Trophies by our Fathers won,
Triumphs related down from Son to Son.
Where is that Crown the first fam'd FERGUS bore,
And that fierce Scepter stain'd in Pictish Gore.
Should these old rev'rend Forms again rise,
In mystic Vision dreadful to our Eyes.
What sad Reproaches justly wou'd they give,
To those who chuse in Bondage thus to live:
How wou'd their Cheeks blush with a kindred Shame,
And throw' us back the hated Fathers Name.
And are we so degenerate from our Race,
Such Sons begotten to our Sires Disgrace.
That Thoughts like these shan't force us yet to arm,
And Liberty thus want the Power to warm.
Let the Pale Coward own a pannick Fear,
Or unknown Wars and distant Triumphs hear.
Let this heart startle at the Trumpets Voice,
And shrink unequal to the Battels Noise.
Can Souls like these alas! assist us now,
Or rise to Dangers which they never knew;
But we whose Courage bids us pant for Fame,
And be distinguish'd by the Patriots Name.
How should our Breast with sacred Fury glow,
And rush undaunted on the guilty Foe:
The lawless Rage of Tyrants to restrain,
Nor let fair Liberty thus court in Vain.
He said. A Generous Ardor stood confes'd,
And a fierce Patriot twin'd in ev'ry Breast.
Revenge alone employs each Wariours Care,
Bends ev'ry Bow, and sharpens ev'ry Spear.
Some scour the flying Horse along the Plain,
And bids his haughty Neck obey the Rein.
With goring Rowels urge him in his Speed,
And stop in full Career the bounding Steed.
Wallace beheld th'auspicious Fury rise,
And Rage redoubled flushing in their Eyes.
With Joy he hears this Omen of success
And saw just Heaven, decree his Happiness.
Nor do the English with less studious Care,
Observe the growing Progress of the War,
And for the feirce Encounter all prepare.
Keen Hesilrig, Arms all their glittring Bands,
A Thousand Swords shine in a thousand Hands.
A Savage Fury brandishes each Dart,
And reeking Slaughter steels each impious Heart
But oh! ye Gods shall yon weak Bands prevail,
When hot with Rage more numerous Troops assail.
May righteous Heaven still blast the lawless Might,
And the just Patriots vanquish in the Fight:
But now advancing near, they other meet
And with no friendly Salutation greet.
Stern Vengeance lowring Frowns on every Brow,
And hate Arms ev'ry Visage like a Foe.
Behold what diff'rent Passions now excite,
And join two Nations in the Toils of Fight.
Here Pride Ambition Arms each guilty Foe,
And Tyranny attends on ev'ry Blow.
Here Partiots stand, and boldly dare restrain,
The Tyrants growth and check th'Oppressors Reign
And the fair Cause of Freeedom to maintain.
Now all the Plains with Arms are cover'd o're,
And the bent Bow unloads its feathered Store.
From well stor'd Quivers but declining Light
And ruddy Vesper led the Starry Night:
Wallace withdrew where Cartlane Rocks on high
Erect their shaggy Tops and threat the Sky,
Safe shelter'd there the Scotish Heroes stay
And wait impatient for the rising Day,
Mean while Fidelia with sad Cares opprest,
Had sunk into the silken Arms of Rest;
A Thousand Spectres dance before her Sight
And add to the pale Terrors of the Night;
Sword, Shield and Helms, in mix'd Confusion rise
And blended Horrors stare before her Eyes,
Even in that Time when all shou'd be at rest
When not one Thought shou'd discompose her Breast,
Even then she shakes at Hesilrig's fierce Hate,
And her Soul shrinks as Prescious of her Fate.
Now fierce with Rage the cruel Foe draws near,
Oh does not Heaven make Innocence its Care!
Where fled thy guardian Angel in that Hour
And left his Charge to the fell Tyrant's Power,
Shall his fierce Steel be redned with thy Gore
And streaming Blood distain thy Beauties o'er?
But now awakned with the dreadfull Sound
The trembling Matron threw her Eyes around,
In vain alace were all the Tears she shed
When fierce he waves the Fauchion o'er her Head
All Tyes of Honour by the Rogue abjur'd
Relentless deep he plung'd the ruthless Sword;
Swift o'er her Limbs does creeping Coldness rise
And Death's pale Hand seal'd up her fainting Eyes.
Now born upon the mournfull Wings of Fame,
To Wallace the unhappy Tydings came,
The rising Woe sore thrill'd in ev'ry Part,
And sought its painfull Passage to the Heart;
Graham and his mourning Friends with Tears o'erflow
And join Society of great Grief and Woe.
When Wallace them beheld he hush'd in Peace
And kindly bade their growing Sorrows cease,
This waste of Tears alas he cry'd is vain,
Nor can recal the fleeting Shade again,
Cou'd that vain Thought afford the least Relief,
How wou'd I mourn; but impotent is Grief;
Then let those Tears, to Wars rough Toil give Way,
And the fierce Sword perform what Words wou'd say,
Hear me brave Graham, Companion of my Arms,
Whose Soul alike is fir'd with Glory's Charms.
To thee I Swear this Sword I'll never Sheath
Till I Revenge my dearest dearest's Death,
Heaven's! what new Toils of Death and War remain?
Rivers of floating Blood and Hills of slain
But, steel'd with Rage to Slaughter let us fly,
And for her Sake there shall Ten Thousand Dye
When Men thus Weep their Courage grows the Less,
It slaikes the Ire of Wrong they should Redress,
But let us hast while yet the dusky Night
Extends her friendly Shade, and drowns the infant Light.
He said, The Melancholy Troops around,
With pleasing Anguish catch the mournfull Sound.
A fierce of Revenge bends ev'ry Warrior's Bow,
And steely Vengeance sends him to the Foe:
For now the armed Warrior's carefull Tread,
And march undaunted thro' the murky Shade:
No Light in the high Firmament was seen,
And like their Vengeance lowring was the Scene;
To Lanerk swift, they shape the destin'd Way;
The Town defenceless all before them lay.
Opprest with Sleep the weary English lay,
Nor knew sad Wretches! that their Death drew nigh.
Now in Two Bands they part their hostile Force,
And to these sleeping Tyrants bend their Force;
Where Hesilrig the cruel Murd'rer lay,
Eager on Slaughter Wallace wings his Way,
A Thousand Ills the Traitor's Mind infest,
And warring Furies Combat in his Breast;
There Slaughter Rage, rapine together roll,
And Guilt sits heavy on his dreadfull Soul.
Full on the Gate a Stone the Heroe threw.
Swift to the Stroke the rocky Fragment flew.
Bars, Bolts, and brazen Hinges soon were broke,
And tumbl'd down before the sweepy Stroke.
Surpriz'd he stood and listning to the Noise,
With beating Heart he heard the Warrior's Voice,
Anon beheld the distant beaming Lance,
And trembling saw th'injured Man advance;
And thought'st thou Traitor fierce the Heroe cry'd,
When by thy murd'ring Steel she cruel dy'd;
When thy fell Hand her precious Blood did spill,
Wallace tho' absent woud be absent still.
Furious he spoke and raising on the Foe,
Full on his Head discharg'd the pondrous Blow:
Down sinks the Head long Fellon to the Ground,
The guilty Soul flew trembling thro' the Wound.
Mean while enrag'd Graham from his flamy Hand,
Full on the Roof directs the hostile Brand.
Inclos'd within Thorn saw with dire Amaze
The spreading Ruin and the rolling Blaze.
Consum'd in Flames he yeilds his latest Breath,
And sinks into the fiery Arms of Death.
But now the Morning rais'd her beamy Head,
Around them lay vast Heaps of slaughter'd Dead,
Freed Albion's Ensigns glitter in the Wind,
And a new Hope exults in ev'ry Mind.
The Soldier views with Joy the sanguine Plain,
And Scotia well redeemed with Heaps of slain.
The willing Nation own him for their Lord,
And joyful croud to his auspicious Sword.
With Grief fierce Edward heard his mighty Name,
And burns invidious at his growing Fame.
He bids his haughty Soldiers come from far,
Blacken the Field, and calls forth all his War.
None can the Dictates of his Soul controul
While his high Conquests urge his rapid Soul.
Swift to fair Scotia's Plains he bends his Way,
By Fate reserv'd for Biggar's glorious Day.

CHAP. II. The Battle of BIGGAR.

He said,—

The Seventh BOOK OF Sir William Wallace.

CHAP. I. How WALLACE burn't the Barns of Air, put Bishop Beik out of Glasgow, and killed Lord Peircy.

With Wallace now concluded is the Truce,
But mark what Treachery it does produce:
To English Faith, the great Seal they append
In Februar; yet March doth scarcely end,
When they of new contrive a hellish Plot,
Do break their Faith, and murder many a Scot.
The English King takes Journey in April,
And holds a mighty Council in Carlisle.
To which the English Captains hastned fast,
And privy were to every Thing that past.
None other to be present thought he good,
But such as were of true born English Blood.
Except Sir Aymer Vallance, as I'm told,
Who to the Scots a Traitor was of old.
The Southeron here Consult him, how and where,
They might cut off the Barrons bold of Air.
Who, when he had in Pluto's Myst'rie div'd,
Gave such Advice as Hell and he contriv'd.
Four Barns he said built by the King's Command,
At the Head Burgh of that old County stand.
Where, at one Time, none but a single Man
May enter in, or see another can
That is said he, Pox on his Bloody Face
I think the only, and the proper Place,
To call the Barrons to a Justice aire
And then dispatch them at your Pleasure there.
To which they all, with Spite and Malice fill'd,
Consent, and vote them basely to be kill'd.
Except Lord Piercy, who, the curs'd Design,
And Villany, pretended to decline.
The Scots said he, have keeped Faith so long
With me, I'll not be Witness to such Wrong.
But at the Time apointed will withdraw,
To Glasgow Town, from such a Bloody Law.
Fy on the Piercy that was so unkind,
Not to reveal the barbarous Design.
Where were thy Bowels of Compassion then?
That might have sav'd four or five Thousand Men
Of Scots and English, that no Harm did fear,
As by the tragic Story shall appear.
A cruel Justice then, they choos'd and fierce,
Whose bloody Acts a Heart of Stone would pierce:
Lord Arnulf, whom, Beelzebub scarce could match,
He undertook the Barons to dispatch.
Another Aire in Glasgow order'd they,
For Clydsdale Men upon the self same Day.
Thus they like Devils sit in humane Shape,
And charge that Wallace by no Means escape.
For well they knew, if he were overthrown,
They might possess all Scotland as their own.
Thus they conclude, to other give the Hand,
And set their Seals to this black hellish Band
To Air the Justice speedily comes down,
And Piercy marches off for Glasgow Town.
The Justice aire on June the Eighteen Day
Was set, proclaim'd, no Barron was away.
The Scots they wondr'd, in a peaceful Land
Why English-men should rule with such high Hand.
Sir Rannald did appoint before this aire,
At Monkton-Kirk his Friends to meet him there.
Wallace was present 'mongst those Gentlemen,
He Warden was of Scotland chosen then.
Good Mr. John, who sirnamed was Blair,
Discharg'd his Friends from going to that Aire,
And did suspect since Piercy left that Land,
He was no Friend to Scots, did then Command,
Wallace from them went to the Church with speed,
There said a PATER-NOSTER, and a CREED.
He lean'd him down upon a Place hard by,
Then in a deep Sleep fell immediately:
Into that Slumber Wallace thought he saw,
A Stalwart Man that towards him did draw.
Who hastily did catch him by the Hand,
I am he said sent to thee by Command.
A Sword he gave him of the finest Steel,
This Sword said he, Son, may thou manage well.
A Topas fine the Plummet he did guess,
The Hilt and all, did glitter o'er like Glass.
Dear Son he said, we tarry here too long,
Shortly thou must revenge thy Countrie's Wrongs,
Then led he him unto a Mountain high,
Where he at once might all the World see.
There left he Wallace, contrair his Desire,
To whom appear'd, a very dreadfull Fire.
Which fiercely burnt, and wasted thro' the Land,
Scotland all o'er, from Ross to Sulway Sand.
Quickly to him descended there a Queen,
All shining Bright, and with majestick Mein,
Her Countenance did dazle so his Sight,
It quite extinguish't all the Fire Light.
Of Red, and Green, gave him with modest Grace
A Wand, and with a Sapphire cross'd his Face.
Welcome she said, I choose thee for my Love,
Thou granted art by the great God above,
To help and aid poor People that get Wrong,
But with thee now I must not tarry long;
To thine own Host thou shalt return again,
Thy dearest Kin in Torment are and Pain.
This Kingdom thou redeem it surely shall,
Tho' thy Reward on Earth shall be but small.
Go on and prosper, sure thou shalt not miss,
For thy Reward the Heavens eternal Bless.
With her right Hand she reached him a Book,
Then hastily her Leave of him she took.
Unto the Clouds ascended out of sight,
Wallace the Book embrac'd with all his Might.
The Book was writ in three Parts and no less,
The first big Letters were, and all of Brass:
The second Gold, Silver the third most fine,
At which he greatly wondred in his Mind:
To read the Book he made great haste, but as
He did awake, behold a Dream it was.
Quickly he rose, and there a Man he found,
Who did his Dream, and Vision all expound.
The stalwart Man, who gave thee that fine Sword
Was Fergus King of Scots, upon my Word.
The Mountain does prognosticate no less,
Than Knowledge how our Wrongs thou must redress.
The Fire hasty Tidings doth presage,
The like of which was not heard in our Age.
The bright and shining Queen, whom thou didst see,
Was Fortune, which portends great Good to thee.
The pretty Wand which she unto thee sent,
Betokens Pow'r, Command, and Chastisement.
The colour Red, if I right understand,
Means bloody Battles shortly in our Land:
The Green, great Courage to thee does portend,
And Trouble great, before the Wars shall end.
The Saphire Stone she blessed thee withall,
Is happy Chance, pray God it thee befall
The threefold Book, is this poor broken Land
Thou must redeem, by thy most valiant Hand.
The great big Letters which thou saw of Brass,
Prognostick Wars that shall this Land oppress.
Yet every Thing to its true Right again
Thou shalt restore; But thou must suffer Pain.
The Gold betokens Honour, Worthiness,
Victorious Arms, Manhood, and Nobleness.
The Silver shows clean Life, and Heavenly bless,
Which thou for thy Reward shalt never miss.
Then do not fear, or in the least despair,
He shall protect thee who of all takes care.
He thank'd him, then, committing all to God,
Home unto Corsby with his Uncle rode.
Both blyth and glad, all Night they lodged there,
And on the Morn, made ready all for Air.
Wallace he ask'd Sir Rannald at Kincase,
Where was the English Charter of the Peace,
At Corsby said Sir Rannald, in the Chest,
Go seek it there thou'll find it if thou list.
None but thy self where it does lye doth know,
Then by good Luck he back again did go.
Sir Rannald he rode on and rested not,
Then came to Air knew nothing of the Plot.
Into the Town he did not tarry long,
Went to the bloody Barns dreading no Wrong.
A Baulk was knit with cruel Ropes and keen,
O! such a slaughter House was never seen.
Strong Men to keep the Entry they prepare,
And none but One at once, must enter there.
Sir Rannald first, that ancient Knight comes in,
And then the bloody Murther does begin.
A running Cord they slipped o'er his Head,
Then to the Baulk they haled him up dead.
Sir Bryce the Blair after Sir Rannald past,
The cruel Dogs to Death him hastned fast.
No sooner enters, but he's in the Snare,
And on the bloody Baulk was hanged there.
A gallant Knight Sir Neil Montgomrie,
Was hanged next which Pity was to see.
Great Numbers more of landed Men about
Went in, but none alive at all came out.
The Wallaces, and Crawfords stout like Steel,
Great Cruelty from barb'rous Sutheron feel.
The Kennedie's of Carrick slew they alse,
And the kind Campbels that were never False,
Nor did rebel against the righteous Crown,
For which the Sutheron hang'd and hew'd them down.
The Barclays, Boyds, and Stuarts of good Kin,
No Scot escap'd that Time that enter'd in.
Unto the Baulk they hang'd up many a Pair,
Then in some ugly By-nook cast them there.
Since the first Time that Men did War invent,
To so unjust a Death none ever went.
Thus to the Gods of their most cruel Wrath,
They sacrific'd the Scots and broke their Faith.
Such Wickedness each Christian Soul must own,
Was ne'er before in all the World known.
Thus eighteen Score to Death they put outright
Of Barrons bold; with many a gallant Knight.
Then last of all with great Contempt and Scorn,
Cast out the Corps naked as they were born.
Good Robert Boyd with Twenty valiant Men,
Of Wallace House went to the Tavern then.
Brave Stout and Bold the Choice of all the Land,
He them in Wallace Absence did Command.
Kierly who did the Sutheron often Mall,
Cleland and Boyd were all upon a Call:
And Ste'en of Ireland, who upon the Street,
With a good Woman and a true did meet.
He ask'd at her what News there was in Air,
Nothing said, she but Sorrow, Dole and Care.
All frighted like, she look'd him in the Face,
Then ask'd for Wallace in a little Space:
Who told, his Uncle the good ancient Knight
Had sent him Home, but would be back on sight.
Pray charge his Men, said she, to leave the Place,
I'll Wallace watch as he comes from Kincase
And him acquaint with ev'ry Thing that's past,
The sad Barbarities from First to Last.
Now quietly together call your Force,
Get all to Arms, and quickly mount your Horse.
He with the Woman did no longer stay,
But to his Comrades posted fast away:
Told the sad News; who without speaking more,
March all to Laglane Wood, with Hearts full sore.
Now with the Charter Wallace hasts to Air,
But little knew the Massacre was there.
Then loudly on him the good Woman calls,
Nothing but Breach of Faith within those Walls.
Our Barrons bold thro' horrid Treacherie
Are kill'd and hang'd, like Beasts up to a Tree,
Most basely murdered as they went in,
Then Wallace wept, for Loss of his good Kin.
Unto the Woman up he Gallops fast,
To understand the Truth of all was past.
Is my dear Uncle Dead, or how befel
The Case; good Woman pray make hast and tell.
Out of yon Barns, with great Contempt and Scorn,
I saw him cast; naked as he was Born.
His cold pale Lips with grieved Heart and sore
I kiss'd; then spread a Cloath his Body o'er.
His Sister's Son thou worthy art and Wight.
Revenge his Death I pray with all thy Might.
I shall Assist as I'm a Woman True,
Then he enquired at her, if she knew,
Good Robert Boyd, and if she saw him there;
Or William Crawford, if he living were:
Or Adam Wallace, a good Friend indeed,
Both true, and trusty, in the Time of Need.
Call them to me, with little Noise and Dinn,
Then cunningly spy out the Justice Inn.
See what Discov'ries thou of them can make,
And then I'll see the next best Course to take.
This in great Haste, he spake and said no more,
Then wheel'd about, with grieved Heart and sore.
To Laglane Woods, then pleasant, sweet and green,
Which oft his Refuge had, and Safety been;
There for his Friends did mourn, with Grief and Woe,
Till his proud Breast was like to burst in two.
Lord Arnulph quickly after him does send,
Fifteen Hand-waild, well mounted English-men.
A Macer als, to bring him back to Law,
Who furiously towards good Wallace draw;
With Sword in Hand among them soon he went,
And pay'd them soundly to their Heart's Content.
One thro' the middle there he cut in two,
Unto the Second gave a deadly Blow:
The Third he struck, down thro' the Body clave,
The Fourth unto the Ground he quickly drave.
The Fifth he smote in such great Wrath and Ire,
He on the Spot did presently Expire.
Three Men he had that killed other Five,
With much adoe the rest escap'd alive:
Fled to their Lord, told all the Passage o'er
How Ten of Fifteen Men, were kill'd by Four.
And had it not been for their Horse, that they
The other Five had gone the self same Way.
A right Scots Stroke none of us sooner got,
Than without Mercy we lay on the Spot.
So fierce they fought it, and so furiously,
At every Stroke they made a Man to dye.
Then thought they all, it must be Wallace wight,
To whom reply'd an ancient English Knight,
And said, if Wallace hath escap'd this Aire,
All that is done, is adding Grief to Care.
Then spoke the Justice, when this Rumour rose.
What would ye do, if there were many Foes?
That for one Man so frighted seem to be,
And are not sure as yet if it be he.
And tho' it were, I count the Matter light,
Each Gentleman who stays here shall be Knight.
And so soon as the Morrow comes, I'll then,
Deal the Scots Lands to true born English-Men.
Thus spoke that Cruel, indefiderate Beast,
But was mistaken, Faith for all his Haste:
Which minds me of a Saying, Sage, and wise.
Who compt's before the Rost he compteth twice.
The Suthron to their Quarters now repair,
Four thousand Strong that Night did lodge in Air.
And in the bloody Barns, without the Town,
Where the proud Justice caus'd proclaim around
The Walls and Garrison, on every Side,
That no Scots Man within them should abide.
By Providence that Night it hap'ned so,
The Justice to the Castle would not go:
Lodg'd in the Barns, knew not of Wallace Plot,
Who long ere Morn gave him a Wak'ning hot.
At Supper they eat a prodigious Deal,
Then plenty drank of Wine and English Ale.
No Watch they set, having no Fear or Doubt,
Of Harm from Scots, who lodged all without.
The great Fatigue and Toil, that Bloody Day
The Rogues had got, and too much Wine which they
Drank off in Bumpers, lull'd them so asleep,
They quite forgot that Night a Guard to keep.
Thus all secure, they snorting lay like Swine,
Their Chiftain was great Bacchus God of Wine.
So soon's the Woman saw them lying so,
Some Men she warned, and made to Laglane go.
Foremost she went her Faithfulness was such
At which good Wallace was comforted much.
He thanked God when as he saw them there,
What News good Woman hast thou brought from Air.
Yon bloody Hounds said she, are all so drunk,
With Wine, they'r now all in a deep sleep sunk.
When I them left could not so much as see,
One single Scots-Man in their Company.
If that be true, it's Time to steer my Stumps,
And set a Fire to their English Rumps.
To him resort Three hundred chosen Men,
Willing and ready their best Blood to spend.
Out of the Town there came good Ale and Bread,
And each Thing else whereof they stood in need:
They ate and drank, and welcome were for nought,
The Gentrie then Jop unto Wallace brought.
Alace said Wallace my dear Friends you see;
Our Kin are slain and murd'red barb'rously.
Therefore I pray for our poor Countrie's Sake,
Let's now advise what Course is best to take.
Your Warden tho' I chosen was to be,
Yet in the Place since I so many see,
Of as good Blood, and ancient Scots Descent,
And ev'ry way on Honour as much bent,
Forward and brave, in all good likelyhood,
As ever I; then let us here conclude,
To choose us Five of this good Company,
And then cast Lots who shall our Captain be.
Wallace, and Boyd, and Crawford of Renown,
And Adam then the Lord of Richartoun,
And Auchinleck, in War a skilful Man,
To cast the Lots about these five began.
On Wallace still unto their great Surprise,
The Lot did fall, tho' it was casten thrice.
Then Wallace rose, and out his Sword he drew,
And solemnly did to his Saviour vow,
And to the Virgin Mary that e'er long,
He should aveng'd be on the Southeron.
I do protest he said, to all that's here,
For my brave Uncle's Death they shall pay dear.
And many more of our good worthy Kin,
Who's Blood they shed and did not mind the Sin.
For which I'll play them such an after Game,
Shall make them all pass thro' the fiery Flame;
Before I either Eat, or Drink, or Sleep,
This solemn Vow most sacredly I'll keep.
Then all most humbly, and with one Accord,
Receiv'd him as their Chiftain and their Lord.
Fine Chalk the Woman quickly does procure,
Wherewith she chalked ev'ry English Door:
And all the Gates which led unto the Streets,
Where Sutheron sleep'd securely in their Sheets.
Then twenty Men he caused Widdies thraw,
No sooner spoke, than's Word it was a Law,
With which the Doors they instantly make fast,
To Hasp and Staple with a sicker Cast.
Boyd to the Castle past, the safest Way,
With fifty Men, and there in Ambush lay,
That in Revenge of his poor slaughter'd Kin,
None might escape of all that were within.
The rest with Wallace, all the Barns surround,
And noble Service from the Woman found.
Who Flax, and Fire, brought unto their Mind
And all Combustibles that she could find.
Wallace commanded all his Men about,
On pain of Death no Suthron should break out.
Nor rescu'd be, tho' he were of their Kin,
From the red Fire, or they should burn therein.
The Conflagration shin'd so clear and bright,
Is not said Wallace this a pleasant Sight,
Our former Wrongs this will in part redress,
When these are gone, their Pow'r will be the less,
Then Wallace call'd with Majesty and Aw,
Brave Justice Sir, come execute your Law.
'Gainst us that Live, and are escap'd your Aire,
Deal not our Lands, for Faith that were not fair.
Thy cruel Bloodshed now confess and mourn,
And take thy Choise whither thou'll Hang or Burn.
With that the fiery Flames ascend aloft,
To sleeping Folk such wakening was not soft.
The Sight without was terrible to see
Then guess what cruel Pain within might be.
Which to the Bloody Monsters there befell,
Next to the Torments I may say of Hell.
The Buildings great were all burnt down that Night
None there escaped, Squire, Lord or Knight.
When great huge Roof Trees fell down them among
O such a sad and Melancholy Song;
Some naked burnt to Ashes all away
Some never rose, but smoth'red where they lay.
Others attempting to get to the Air:
With Fire and Smoke were burnt and choaked there
Their nauseous Smell none present could abide,
A just Reward; for Murder will not hide.
With Sorrow thus and many a grievous Groan,
They languish'd till their sinfull Days were gone.
Some sought the Door endeav'ring out to get,
But Scotsmen them so wisely did beset,
Out of the burning Flames whoever got,
Immediatly was cut down on the Spot.
Or driven back, with Fury in the Fire,
Such Wages got these Hangmen for their Hire,
A Friar Drumlaw, who Prior was of Air,
Sevenscore that Night upon him lodged were
Of Suthron Louns, for he an Inn did keep,
But watch'd them well till they fell all asleep.
The Smoak and Flame no sooner there arose,
Then he contriv'd Revenge upon his Foes.
Unto his Brethren Seven the Secret told
All stately Fellows sturdy brisk and bold
Who soon the English Armour do command:
And a choice Sword each one takes in his Hand.
In Harness thus, they doe themselves infold
And then the Frier leads on the Brothers bold.
These Eight brave Friers, to sundry Places goe
With Sword in Hand to ev'ry House went Two
Wherein the bloody drunken Sutheron were,
And them dispatch'd, as they lay sleeping there.
Some did awake into that doleful Case,
Who naked fled, and got out of the Place.
Some Water sought, confus'dly thro' their Sleep,
Then drown'd in the Frier's Well both large and deep.
Thus slain and drown'd were all that lodged there,
Men call it since the Frier's Blessing of Air.
Few in the Castle that were Men of Note,
Remain'd alive but burnt were on the Spot.
Some, when the furious fiery Flames were out,
In haste came forth, not having the least Doubt,
Of Harm from Scots, either by Lass or Lad,
But far less from good Boyd his Ambuscade,
Who like a Soger prudent, wise, and douss,
Let them alone, then straight march'd to the House;
And won the Port, enter'd with all his Men,
Where only left were Keepers Nine or Ten
The foremost soon he seized in his Hand,
Made quite of him, then slew the rest he fand.
Arnulf, who did refuse his Lodging there,
Was burnt to Ashes in the Barns of Air.
Provisions in the Castle there was none,
Not long before, from it was Piercy gone.
Boyd, there made Twenty of his Men to stand,
Then went and waited Wallace's Command.
Who kept the Town, till nothing left was there,
But raging Fire, and brave Buildings bare.
Of Englishmen in Spite of all their Might,
By Sword and Fire, Five Thousand dy'd that Night
When Wallace Men together all were met
Good Friends he said, you know an Air was set;
That Clidsdale Men to Glasgow should repair
To Bishop Beik and the Lord Piercy there.
We'll thither haste therefore, tho' we be few,
Of our good Kin some killed are e'er now.
The Burgessess he caus'd unto him call,
And gave Command in gen'ral to them all;
Safely to watch, and guard the House of Air,
With outmost Caution, Diligence, and Care.
To which they all consented and did say,
With chearful Heart they'd his Command obey.
Wallace, his Men, refresh't themselves and so,
For Glasgow Town prepar'd in Haste to go.
Choice of good English Horses to their Mind,
They took along, and left the Bad behind.
In Haste away rides that brave Cavalry,
Three hundred Strong was the good Company;
To Glasgow Town march these good Men and true,
And pass the Bridge before the Suthron knew.
Lord Piercy soon with Diligence and Care,
His Men conveen'd all in good Order there.
Who do conclude, that it must Wallace be,
Prepare for Fight, either to doe or Die,
The Bishop Beik and Piercy upon Sight.
Led on a Thousand Men in Armour bright.
Wallace he views their Force, then back does ride
And in two Squadrons did his Horse divide.
Harnish'd his Men who were in Number few,
Then call'd on Auchinleck both stout and true.
Uncle he said, e'er we these Men assaill,
Whither will ye bear up the Bishop's Tail,
Or with the foremost will ye Gallop on,
Kneel down, and take that Prelat's Bennison.
Quoth Auchinleck, I'll not ambitious be,
Your self may take his Blessing first for me.
That is the Post of Honour, and your Right,
I shall bear up his Tail with all my Might.
Since we must part, you'll be much in the Wrong
Good Wallace said, if you stay from us long.
Your Men will not regard their Number vast,
For God's Sake then march on your Squadron fast
Our Parting I would not the Suthron saw,
March you behind in thro' the North-East Raw;
Good Men of War are in Northumberland,
Thus parted, and took other by the Hand.
Quoth Auchinleck, we'll do the best we may,
'Twill not be right if we stay long away.
Ther's be a Reel among us speedily,
But to the Right Almighty God have Eye.
Then Adam Wallace, and good Auchinleck,
With sevenscore Men of Note and good Respect,
Brave cliver Boys, stout, able, haill and sound,
March briskly up the back side of the Toun:
Till they were fairly out of Suth'ron sight,
The other Squadron dress with all their Might.
Wallace and Boyd up thro' the plain Street go,
The English wond'red when they saw no moe.
An Ensign was with Beik and Piercy there,
Who boldly call'd, and challeng'd what they were
A fierce Encounter then, and sharp between
The Scots, and English, as was ever seen
Quickly ensues, with such a dreadful Dint,
Till from their Swords the Fire flew like Flint.
The hardy Scots most manfully they fought,
And to the Ground Heaps of the Suthron brought.
Pierced their Plates with pointed Swords of Steel,
At ev'ry Blow they made them there to kneel.
The Stour like Smoak arose among them fast,
Darkned the Sun and to the Clouds it past.
Honour to gain each Scotsman did his best,
Tho' with great Numbers they were sadly prest.
Yet gallantly they fought and pushed on
With Sword in Hand, and charg'd the Sutheron.
Lord Piercy's Men expert in War I wot,
Most fiercely sought, and flinched ne'er a Foot.
Then Adam Wallace, and good Auchinleck,
Their Duty next in truth do not neglect.
But like brave Sogers, do obey Command;
And boldly enter all with Sword in Hand.
Amidst the Contest hot, and fierce Dispute,
At which some Suthron bravely fac'd about.
Who stoutly charg'd the Scots, and very fast,
But were oblidg'd to yeild their Ground at last.
This fresh Releif so eager fought and keen,
And made such slaps as never yet was seen.
'Mongst Englishmen, that to their very Will,
The Scots got room to fight and slay their fill.
Then Wallace 'mids that cruel Bloody throng,
With his good Sword that heavy was and long,
At the Lord Piercy such a stroak he drew,
Till Bone and Brain in different Places flew
Whom, when his Men perceiv'd that he was Dead,
With Bishop Beik all marched off with speed.
By the Frier Church, out thro' a Wood they throng,
But in that Forrest durst not tarry long.
Thus in a Hurry all to Bothwel scour,
The Scotish Swords were sharp for to endure.
So cruel was the Skirmage and so hot,
The English left Seven Hundred on the Spot.
Wallace he follow'd with stout Men and tight,
Altho' for-foughten, marched all that Night;
Many he slew into the chase that Day.
But yet with Beik Three hundred got away:
The Traitor Vallange he escap'd also
To all true Scots Men still a mortal Foe.
Five thousand Suthron Wallace burnt at Air,
At Glasgow Town Seven hundred killed there.
The Suthron chas'd to Bothwel that strong Place,
Then did return within a little Space.
Thus with Fatigue, and want of Sleep opprest,
Rode to Dundaff, and there took him some Rest
Told good Sir John of all befel in Air,
Who did regrate he was not with him there.
Wallace he sojourn'd in Dundaff at Will,
Five Summer Days with Pleasure there until,
He Tidings got from good Men all forlorn,
Buchan was up, Athol, Monteith, and Lorn.
That on Argyle a furious War they make,
All for King Edward's cruel bloody Sake.
Campbel the Knight that witty was and smart,
Stay'd in Argyll in spite of Edward's Heart.
And keeped still his Heritage Lochow,
In spite of the McFadzean's Sword and Bow.
Who 'cause he had unto King Edward Sworn
Gave him Argyll, and all the Lands of Lorn.
False John of Lorn to that Gift did accord,
Because in England he was made a Lord.
Duncan of Lorn he stood up for the Land,
Who when o'ercame by the McFadzean:
Did joyn himself to Campbel that brave Knight,
In War who was both worthy, wise, and wight.
McFadzean now with Diligence and Care,
His Five new Lordships 'bout him 'sembles there.
That Tyrant to the Land no sooner comes,
Than he packs up an Army of vile Scums:
Full Fifteen thousand cursed Rogues indeed
Of omne-gatrhums after him does lead.
Many of whom he had from Ireland got,
Man, Wife, nor Child, these Monsters spared not.
Wasted the Land, where e'er they came at Will,
Nothing they knew, but burn, destroy and kill,
Into Lochow they enter speedily,
Which when the good Knight Campbel did espy
In Craighumure three Hundred Men he puts,
And holds that Strength, in spite of all their Guts.
Then broke the Bridge that o'er they might not pass,
But thro' a Foord, that deep and narrow was.
Securely there, and safe made his Abode,
Aufe, did defend him that was deep and broad.
McFadzean was on the other Side,
And there perforce obliged was to bide.
Till 'twixt a Rock and a great Water-side,
Where none but Four in Front could either march or ride,
McFadzean has a little Passage found,
Were he o'er that, he thought all was his own.
Where plenty he of Cattle for no Cost
Might get; for to maintain his savage Host.
Duncan of Lorn, unto his Travells got
In Quest of Wallace to prevent the Plot.
For speedy Succours to the Knight's Relief,
Against McFadzean, that false Traytor Thief.
Gilmichal then, a Foot-man clean and tight,
With Duncan went, to guide his Way aright.
Thus cliverly away the Couple trudg'd,
Till they came straight where the wight Wallace lodg'd.
There, they tho' wearie, all fatigu'd and faint,
Against McFadzean table their Complaint.
When Earl Malcolm, he the Tydings knew,
To Wallace hasts, with his Men stout and true.
Sir John the Graham, there does him also meet,
McFadzean's Wars so griev'd his noble Sp'rit.
Richard of Lundie came the self same Day,
Who all with Wallace boldly march away.

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.

CHAP. III. How WALLACE won St. JOHNSTOUN.

When Wallace quite had clear'd the Highland Coast,
Kill'd the McFadzean, and defeat his Host:
And wisely setled all Argyll, and Lorn.
In spite of all that Rogues Contempt and Scorn.
Nothing he long'd so much to see on Earth,
As sweet St. Johnstoun, now the Town of Perth.
Ramsay he calls, both trusty, true and kind,
And there to him discloses all his Mind.
Bonny St. Johnstoun on the River Tay,
Where Suthron rule with arbitrary Sway,
There Captive Scots I've set at Liberty,
And made Ten English for one Scots Man Dy.
But yet methink's I want sufficient Mends,
Till I kill Thousands more, instead of Tens.
I'll make them know they have no Right to rule,
And cause them shortly all Sing up Port-yeull.
That Town said Ramsay, long they cannot keep;
The Walls are low, altho' the Ditch be deep,
VVhich our good Men can very quickly fill,
Then we may march a Thousand at our will.
The Suthron Pride perhaps we then may quell,
Wallace was pleas'd, and both rode to Dunkel.
There, Three full Days, away their Time they past,
And all their Projects, wisely did forecast.
Ramsay caus'd make great big Machines of Tree,
By the best Workmen could be had for Fee.
And down the Water in a little Space,
Does carry them, to the appointed Place.
Then all the Host unto St. Johnstoun past,
With Earth and Stone fill'd up the Ditches fast.
Flaiks there they made of Timber fresh, and tight,
Then to the VValls a Passage made on sight.
Bastalies strong they suddenly up-rear,
Then do advance with glitt'ring Sword and Spear.
Sir John the Graham, and Ramsay that bold Knight,
The Turret Bridge besiege, with all their Might.
VVallace himself, with his good Men around.
Doth take his Post, at Mid-Side of the Town.
The Suthron much perplexed in their Minds,
Defend themselves with new, and strange Engines.
Wherewith they furiously, and very fast,
Great Numbers of prodigious Stones do cast.
Yet the brave Scots, that hardy still had been,
With Swords, and Spears, that cliver were and keen
At Handy blows no sooner with them met,
Than in their Blood, their Weapons all were wet
Tho' English there, like gallant Men and brave,
Into that Conflict Boldly did behave:
Yet suddenly they were put to the worse,
The Scots upon them enter in by Force.
A Thousand, o'er the VVall got speedily,
Then in the Town rose a prodigious Cry.
Ramsay, and Graham, such was their lucky Fate,
Soon gain'd, then entred at the Turret-Gate.
A Squire true, who Ruthwen was to Name,
At that Assault was with Sir John the Graham.
And Thirty Men who laid about them well,
As to their Smart, the Suthron there did feel,
Then the true Scots, came in upon all Sides,
And bravely curry'd all their English Hides.
Two Thousand there, they kill'd upon the Street,
And in the Kennel tread beneath their Feet.
VVhen Sir John Psewart, saw the Town was lost,
He like a Coward fled, and left his Host:
Then Sixty Men, in a light Barge, and he,
Scour down the VVater, streight unto Dundee.
Wallace abode till the Fourth Day at Morn,
But left none there, that were in England born.
Great Riches got, and ev'ry Thing was good
And then the Town repeopl'd with Scots Blood.
Ruthwen he left their Captain there to be,
That Post by Right full well deserved he.
He sundry Gifts got more in Heritage,
His Service so did Wallace Heart engage.
Thus after Wallace settled Matters so,
He to the North prepares himself to go.
In Aberdeen, he caus'd proclaim and Cry,
That Scots men there should meet immediatly.
To Couper rode, to view that Abbacy,
From which the Abbot he thought fit to flee.
Good Bishop Sinclair, without longer stay,
Met him at Glams, and travell'd on the Way
To Brechin; where, they lodged all that Night,
Then on the Morn, Wallace by it was Light,
Caus'd Noblemen, all in their rich Array,
The Scottish Banner fairly there display.
Then instantly proclaim'd upon the Spot,
To kill all Sutheron where they could be got.
In Battle Rank then thro' the Merns they march,
And diligently after Suthron search.
Who frighted all before the Host do flee,
Unto Dunnottar standing in the Sea.
To that great Strength, they all in Hast do throng
Their Number then made up Four Thousand Strong.
Some in the Church their Sanctuary took,
The Rest march'd up all to the Craigy Rock.
With whom the Bishop fairly treated so,
To spare their Lives if from the Land they'd go.
Like Fools, they on his Words would not rely,
Therefore a Fire was brought speedily:
Which burnt the Church and all those Suthron Boys
Out o'er the Rock the rest rusht with great Noise.
Some hung on Craigs, and loath were for to die,
Some lap, some fell, some flutter'd in the Sea.
And perish'd all, not one remain'd alive,
What Man could think such Rogues could better thrive.
When Wallace Men, saw them all dead and gone,
They ask'd the Bishop Absolution.
Wallace he thought their Fault it was but small,
Then leugh, and said, I do forgive you all.
Remember our brave Barrons hang'd in Air,
What pity did the Suth'ron show us there?
To Aberdeen then Wallace quickly past,
Where English Men were flitting very fast.
Numbers of Ships, resembling growing Woods,
Lay in the Harbour to turse off their Goods.
At an ebb Sea, the Scots did make a Trip.
And seiz'd the Servants there of every Ship;
Took out the Goods, the Ships they set on Fire,
The Men on Land they burn'd both Bone and Lyre.
The Priests, and Children, Maids and married Wives,
They sav'd, and freely let pass with their Lives.
To Buchan next, good Wallace he does ride,
Where the Lord Bewmont order'd was to bide.
Earl he was, but short Time made before,
And after bruik'd it very little more.
When he got notice Wallace was in view.
Unto the Slains he privately withdrew.
Took Shipping, and return'd to England back,
Had little of his Government to crack.
Wallace rode on both over Hight and Plain.
At Cromarty hath many Suthron slain.
And then returned back to Aberdeen,
With his blyth Host, upon the Lambass Even.
Where to his Friends a welcome Sight was he,
Then with his Army march'd unto Dundee,

CHAP. IV. How WALLACE laid Seige to Dundee, and gave Battle to Kirkingham Theasurer to King Edward, and the E. of Warran at Stirling Bridge.

The Eight BOOK OF Sir William Wallace.

CHAP. I. How WALLACE put Corspatrick out of Scotland.

Five Moneths thus Scotland had Peace and Rest,
From War, wherewith they were so much oppress'd.
Then a Convention's call'd of the Estates,
To settle Matters and end all Debates.
And in St. Johnstoun are assembled all,
Except Corspatrick, who did mock their Call.
Then Wallace he address'd that Parliament,
And humbly ask'd, if they would all consent:
For to forgive Corspatrick what was past,
Providing he would own his Fault at last;
And swear Fidelity unto the Crown,
To which they all consented very soon:
A Letter then they speedily indite,
And in most kind, and friendly Terms they write,
Beseeching him, with handsome Complement,
He would accept Share of the Goverment,
Which kindly Message, all did prove in vain,
He leugh, and it contemn'd with great Disdain.
We have great need said he, now of a King,
When Wallace he as Governour does Reign.
That King of Kyle, I cannot understand,
Of him I never held a Furr of Land
That Bauchler think's and does believe it well,
That Fortune she will never change her Wheel.
As for you Lords, I let you understand,
I'm not oblig'd to answer your Demand.
As free I am in this Realm to reign,
Lord of my own as either Prince or King.
Great Lands in England there I also have,
Whereof no Subject Rent of me can crave.
What would you then, I warn you I am free,
No Answer more your Letter gets from me.
Back to St. Johnstoun this fine Speech is sent,
And laid before the Lords of Parliament.
At reading which, VVallace no Patience had,
But storm'd, and star'd, as he'd been almost mad.
Himself could not recover for a while,
'Cause in Disdain he call'd him King of Kyle.
Then up he rose, and without more or less.
Unto the Lords he did himself address.
My Lords said he, there can be but one King,
Who can at once over this Kingdom reign.
If Earl Patrick take such Ways and Gates,
And suff'rd be, thus to insult the States:
I plainly think, and I shall add no more,
We are in worse Condition then before,
Therefore I vow to God, if that he be.
In this Realm, one of us Two shall die.
Unless he come, and own his lawfull King,
'Gaingst the false Title Edward takes to reign,
His Taunt, and Scorn, he shall repent and rue,
Who calls me King, that am a Subject true.
He took his Leave of all the Council then,
And march'd away with Two Hundred good Men.
Towards Kinghorn does hasten very fast.
And on the Morrow over Forth he past,
Then in to Musselburgh does safely get,
Where he with Honest Robert Lauder met.
Who 'gainst the Crown did never yet rebel,
And hated Edward, as he hated Hell
'Gainst Earl Patrick, was most glad to goe,
Who to his Country was a Bloody Foe,
Christal of Seatoun with his Men e'er long
Came, and made Wallace full Four Hundred strong.
A Squire Lyle, that did the Country ken
At Lintoun he came up with Twenty Men.
Told, that Corspatrick and his Men of War,
From Cock-burn's-path, were marching to Dunbar.
Come on said Lauder, let us faster ride,
No no said Wallace, he'll our Bellum bide,
Another Thing pray also understand,
A hardier Lord is not in all our Land.
By East Dunbar, they march'd, and tarry'd not,
But Earl Patrick of them Notice got.
Who in a Field near Innerweik did then,
Draw up Nine Hundred able fighting Men.
Wallace with his Four Hundred stout, and tight,
Approached fast, and came within their Sight.
Who fiercely up to Earl Patrick ride,
Where they like Furies, fight on ev'ry Side.
That Conflict was both terrible, and strong,
On either Side, and did continue long.
Much Scottish Blood was spilt, they sought so fierce
More than with Pleasure I can here rehearse.
But Earl Patrick left the Field at last,
Some few with him to Cock-burn's-path they past.
Towards Dunbar march'd Wallace, but was told,
That no Provisions left were in the Hold.
Nor Men of Worth the Castle to defend,
When he that Story heard from End to End
Dunbar he took, and no Resistance fand,
Gave it to Christal Seatoun, to command.
After the Earl, Wallace marches then,
To Cock-burn's-path with him Three Hundred Men.
Whom in a Range about the Park he led,
To Buncle Wood, Corspatrick then he fled;
Then out of that, to Norham passed he,
When Wallace saw that better could not be:
To Cald-Stream rode, and lodged upon Tweed,
Then Earl Patrick made great hast and speed;
And passed by e'er Wallace Men arose.
To Etrick Forrest without resting goes:
Into Cockholm, Corspatrick took him rest,
Then for more Force Wallace march'd to the West
The Earl Patrick, he goes by and by
For England, seeking some more new Supply.
To Bishop Beik he there complained sore,
Whom Wallace had from Scotland chas'd before,
Who all Northumberland, with great Surprise,
Caus'd quickly with the Earl Patrick rise.
Then order'd Bruce, likwise to Scotland go,
To win his own, they coxed him up so.
Made him believe Wallace set up for King,
A most ridic'lous, and calumnious Thing.
Whereas the whole Design he had in Hand,
Was to bring Bruce, free Home to his own Land.
Thus from Oyss Water to the River Tweed,
An Host of Thirty Thousand pass'd with Speed.
And from the Thames came Ships immediatly,
To watch Dunbar, that none should them supply,
With Twenty Thousand all bred up in War,
The Earl Patrick does Besiege Dunbar.
The Bishop Beik, and Robert Bruce did then,
Abide at Norham with Ten Thousand Men.
Then Wallace like a sudden Thunder Crack,
Came with Five Thousand Scotsmen at his Back.
All shining in their Armour clear and bright,
For to rescue the Seatoun wise and wight.
Then under Yester, that Night lodged he,
Where Hay came to him with good Cavalry.
Who in Down Forrest all that Time had been,
And had the coming of the Suthron seen.
Fifty good Men that Hay had with him there
Corspatrick's Case to Wallace all declare.
My Counsel is said Hay, you Battle give,
It is a Pity he so long should Live.
If with your Men you could him overset,
Such Pow'r again he would not quickly get.
Wallace he thank'd him for his Counsel kind,
Yet after all, consulted his own Mind.
By this Corspatrick caus'd a Fellow pass,
Who told to Beik that Wallace coming was
He of the Tidings was exceeding glad,
Amends of him fain would he there have had.
But more adoe, thro' Lammer-moor they rode,
Near the Spot-moor in Ambush there abode.
Most cunningly so closs together drew,
That of their coming Wallace nothing knew.
Then, which was worse did suddenly espy,
Corspatrick marching very furiously,
On a plain Field, with all his num'rous Host,
Of whom the Braggadocio much did boast.
Brave Seatoun who was a most welcome Guest,
To Wallace his Assistance came in haste,
Yet prudently the Scots concluded then.
Themselves too few for Twenty Thousand Men:
Jop musing also, did advise at length,
That Wallace would retire into some Strength.
To lose your Men great Folly were therefore,
I'll goe with Speed, and quickly bring you more.
A dang'rous Chase said Wallace, they may make,
We are too near, such Counsel now to take.
Therefore I'll never flee, nor yet give o'er,
So long as I have one, against their Four,
There's Twenty here with us this very Day,
Would them attack, altho' I were away.
If they be Numerous, we are stout, and Strong,
Let's up and fight them for they'll neer stand long.

CHAP. II. How Corspatrick brought into Scotland Bishop Beik and Robert Bruce, and how WALLACE gave them Battle and put them out of Scotland.

CHAP. III. How WALLACE march'd into England, and remained there Three Quarters of a Year, and returned without Battle.

CHAP. IV. The Siege of YORK.

Wallace his Army does in Four divide,
And then the Town invests, on ev'ry Side.
Himself, with Lauder, that good cliver Hand,
At the South Port, do take the chief Command.
The Earl Malcolm, Noble, Stout, and Great,
VVith valiant Boyd, commanded the VVest Gate.
Campbel the Knight, and Sir John Ramsay brave
At the North Gate their Post, assign'd them have.
To the East Gate Wallace he does direct,
Sir John the Graham, Crawford, and Auchinleck.
One Thousand Archers of the Scottish Side,
At the Four Gates caus'd equally Divide
Full Seventeen Thousand Suthron, then appear,
Upon the Walls with all their Bow, and Spear.
Who furiously doe sally out, but got,
A warm Reception, from each worthy Scot.
In spite of all their Arrows and big Stones,
Were driven back, with sore and Bloody Bones.
Who, when they got within the Town at last,
Faggots of Fire out o'er the Walls do cast.
And great Prodigious red hot Gads of Iron,
Which from old Nick their Master they did Learn.
Hot burning Pitch, and scalding stinking Tar,
And other curs'd Contrivances of War:
Nevertheless, the Scots that were without,
So valiant were, so hardy, and so stout.
They fiercely burnt the Bulwark of the Town,
Their Barmkin wan, and cast great Turrets down.
The wearied Host with great Fatigue opprest,
And Night approaching, think of taking rest,
Most carefully, first, they wash ev'ry Wound,
Their Watches set, and then sleep safe and sound.
Next Day, their Cloaths were scarce well on their Back
When all cry'd out, for a new fresh attack.
Drew up again, as they had done before,
And then the Town assaulted wondrous sore.
The Scottish Archers all, so leilly shot,
Numbers they kill'd, in Truth they miss'd them not.
Then burning Fire set to ev'ry Gate,
So mortally they did the Suthron hate,
Yet notwithstanding, the fierce English Men,
Themselves, and Town, did gallantly defend.
When that whole Day was spent, and come the Night,
To his Pavilion went each weary Wight.
The English then with Vigilance and Care,
For a fresh Sally do themselves prepare.
Sir William Mortoun, and Sir William Lies,
Most cunningly they draw up by Degrees.
And make a fearful, furious Sally then,
On Earl Malcom, with Five Thousand Men.
Wallace himself, as he rode the Grand-round,
Seeing them coming, caus'd a Trumpet Sound.
The Harnish'd Scots that keeped Guard that Night,
Took the Alarm, then mounted all on Sight.
Then briskly charg'd the cruel Suthron Foe,
With Sword in Hand, and many a Bloody Blow.
Wallace, who knew the Earl was too hot.
That he would fight tho' dye upon the spot.
Up to him rides, as quickly as he may,
With a good Sword, that paved well his Way,
The first he struck, fell dead upon the Place,
The Second's Nose, he levell'd with his Face.
The hardy Earl, did no Suth'ron spare,
But hew'd them down, and left them crawlling there.
By this the Host, were all in good Array,
And Suthron thought 'twas Time to march away.
Wallace knew well, they could not stand it long,
Wherefore he thrust into the thickest throng.
And cliverly, so laboured their Buff,
Their Armour did not signify a Snuff.
The Scotsmen there behav'd extreamly well,
As the poor Suthron sensibly did feel.
Then all the English left the Field and fled,
And Sir John Mortoun he was killed Dead.
Twelve Hundred more, upon the Field are slain,
The rest fled back unto the Town again.
And then good Wallace with his valiant Host.
Return'd, each Man unto his proper Post.
And took them Rest, wherewith so fresh they grew,
They on the Morn assault the the Town of new.
Against the City all their Force do bend,
And fight, as if they had been more then Men.
But now their Victualls to be scarce begin,
Tho' little knew the Englishmen within.
Who that same Day, a Parley caus'd be beat,
At which good Wallace did appear in State.
Attended by some of his chiefest Friends,
And boldly asketh, what the Parley means.
To whom, the Major in Name of all did say,
We'll pay a Ransom, if you'll march away.
We would give Battle, or do any Thing,
Would purchase Peace; but dare not for our King.
Then with a Countenance austere, and bold,
VVallace reply'd we value not your Gold.
Your King he promis'd, we should Battle have,
VVhich Faithfully under his Seal he gave.
The Major did then reply most Courteously,
He is the King, and we but Subjects be.
Therefore we pray, as you would us oblige,
To take our Gold and do remove the Siege.
Then with his Council he consulted long,
VVho thought the Town, for Siege was too too strong.
And Victualls scarce, therefore it safer found,
To take some Gold, then march for Scottish Ground
VVallace reply'd, I'm not all content,
Unless the Town give us their whole Consent:
To let our Banner blow upon their VVall,
And there to flourish, in the sight of all.
This Answer soon was sent unto the Major,
VVho did consent, with all the rest were there.
The Banner set, to Scotland's great Renown,
Upon the VValls from Eight, to Twelve at Noon.
Then was Five Thousand Pound of English Gold,
Pay'd down in Specie, to that Army bold,
Good Bread, and VVine, they gladly to them gave,
And all Provisions that they pleas'd to have.
Twenty long Days, at York remained they,
Then gloriously in Triumph march away.
Unto the Country back again they'r gone,
Burn'd, and broke down fine Buildings, spared none.
All Myldlame they burn'd up into a Fire,
Broke down the Parks, destroyed all the Shire.
Wild Deer they slew, for other Beasts were none,
And fed like Princes on good Vennison.
Toward the South, they turned at the last,
Made Buildings bare, as far as e're they past.
The Commons now, for London all design,
Where they most freely, tell the King their Mind.
Unless from Wars, he would cause Wallace cease.
They'd take Protection, and accept his Peace.
No Herauld then, durst unto Wallace go,
The King, to him his Faith had broken so.
And Edward, that was once, so bold, and pert,
His Army now, does cowardly desert.
So long in England, there was never one.
Since Brutu's Death except Wallace alone
That march'd from England, without stroke of Sword;
Fy on the King, that broke his royal Word.
Great Julius for all his Strength and Force,
Was chas'd from England twice, and got the worse,
With Arthur als, first when the Wars he priv'd,
Twice did they fight, altho' they were mischiev'd.
But awful Edward, durst not Wallace bide,
In a plain Battle, for all England wide.
In London lay, at his own Ease and Rest,
And brake his Vows, which of them think you best.
Wallace's Host, for Scotland, long to go,
So scarce the Victuals, every Day did grow.
Immediatly good Wallace calls for Jop,
In him, was all his Confidence and Hope;
Next unto GOD; because he knew the Land,
And still was ready to obey Command.
Who said, if you'll advised be by me,
The Plentiest part of England you shall see.
Good Wine, and Wheat, you'll get in Richmond Shire,
And each Thing else unto your Heart's Desire.
Thither they went, their Time did not purloyn;
Nine Thousand Scots, did there with Wallace joyn.
All swinging, able, lusty, well look'd Men,
He, and his Host had great rejoicing then.
Into that Shire, Plenty had of Food.
Both tame, and wild, and ev'ry Thing was good.
Throughout that Land they march'd, in good array,
A handsome Place then found upon the Way;
Ramswatch to Name, then Jop, to Wallace told
Fechew was Lord and Captain of that Hold.
Five Hundred there, quickly assembled then,
To save their Lives and Goods from Wallace Men
A noble House, stood by the Forrest Side,
VVith stately Turrets, in great Pomp, and Pride.
VVell built about for Strength, ingeniously,
VVith Five great Towers that mounted very high
Numbers of Men, upon the VValls are seen,
Bravading in their Armour, clear and clean,
The Host march'd by, not one VVord said at all,
But they within, aloud on VVallace call.
Their Trumpets blew, with many a warlike Sound,
Then Wallace said, had we yon Gallants down.
On a plain Ground; they should get Sport their fill,
Such as his Brother got on Tinto Hill.
Sir John the Graham would at the Bicker be,
But Wallace soon the Danger did forsee.
Commanded him, to let alone his Haste,
We have no Men so foolishly to waste.
But yet to gratifie your fond Desire,
Our first Attack, shall be with burning Fire.
I see their Bulwark of old with'red Oak,
Were that one Fire it would not bide a Stroke.
Houses, and Woods, in plenty here there be,
Who hews best of this Forrest let me see.
Pull Houses down, let each Man take his turn,
Old Timber, will make green Wood bravely burn.
At his Command most busily they wrought,
Great store of Wood unto the Place they brought.
The Bulwark won, then closly at the last,
Unto the Barmkin, heaps of Timber cast.
The Bow-Men fiercely shot, on ev'ry Side,
But Suthron worsted were for all their Pride.
Women and Children, on their Knees do fall,
And loud for Mercy, do on Wallace call.
So pitiful he was, tho' bold, and stout,
He heard their Crys, and let them safely out.
Then Fire, and smoak, in fearfull Clouds arose,
And burning Flames, all round their Castle goes.
Barrels of Pitch, which stood long there before,
VVent all in Flame, the Mischief was the more.
Both Man, and Beast, are are all burn'd up with Fire,
Thus Wallace Host have got their Hearts Desire.
Fechew himself, smother'd with Smoak, and Smell,
Lap from a Hight, and on the Barmkin fell;
VVith a good Sword, Wallace struck off his Head,
Five Hundred more were choak'd, and burned dead.
On the next Day, the Fire being spent,
Wallace's Men, unto the Castle went.
Struck down the Gate, and took what they could find,
Jewels, and Gold, great Riches to their Mind,
Spoiled the Place, and nothing else left there,
But Beasts, burnt Bodys, and great Buildings bare.
Then Wallace, to the Widow of Fechew
Said; promise here, as you'r a Woman true,
Wo turse your Husband's Head, to London Town,
And tell King Edward, if he do not soon
Give Battle, I doe swear by all the Fates,
This Moneth once, to be at London Gates.
For if he keep not's faithful VVord to me,
All the South-west of England I shall see.
To London Town then without more she went,
VVhere Edward lay, displeas'd, and ill content.
His Nephew's Head, did him with Anguish fill,
And more and more, increas'd his Sorrows still.
With great unease, upon his Feet he stood
Weeping, and wailing, for his tender Blood.
Then rose the Council, praying him to cease,
We England lose, unless we purchase Peace.
Woodstock, for Peace was clear, then in the End,
The King consents and bids a Message send;
No Man the Message there would undertake,
Because the King so oft his Faith did break.
The Queen, when she saw all refuse the Thing,
Down on her Knees she fell before the King.
Soveraign she said, if it your Pleasure be,
I pray, permit me Wallace once to see.
Perhaps he may do more for Women far,
Than for your Men that mind him still of War.
If with him I prevail not very soon,
I may return with little Dammage done.
The Lords were glad the Queen was minded so,
And humbly beg'd the King, to let her go.
To which the (King altho' much discontent,)
And backward to it, did at last consent.
Some said the Queen did Wallace much admire,
Who daily so much Honour did acquire,
And in her Heart by far, did him prefer
To most of Men, for his brave Character.
And that she lov'd him; but till once they meet
I'll pass no Judgement, 'tween themselves Two be't:
Mean Time she's march'd, (to leave our Drolls and Jests,)
With Fifty Ladies and Seven ancient Priests.
Now Edward, for Fechew does sigh, and mourn,
But unto Wallace, I must now return.
The worthy Scots, among the Suthron ride,
And great Destruction make, on ev'ry Side.
The Host was glad, and blest their happy Fate,
No Force there was, that durst with them debate.
Riches, and Gold, they got their very fill,
And ev'ry Thing they pleas'd at their own Will.
South they are march'd, and to St. Albans gone,
In all that Country, Damage did they none.
The Prior sent them Vennison and Wine,
Refresh't the Host, and made them bravely Dine.
The Night appeared shortly in the Place,
Then pitch'd their Tents from thence a little Space.
Into a Valley, by a River fair,
Where Hart, and Hynd, on either Side repair,
Their Watches set, all in good Order keep,
To Supper went and in due Time did sleep.

CHAP. V. How the Queen of England came to speak with WALLACE.

Upon the Morrow, Wallace quickly rose,
To take the Air, out of his Tent he goes.
And then the good, and reverend Mr. Blair,
For Morning Service, quickly does prepare.
Wallace most nobly did himself array,
In shining Armour, Glorious and Gay.
It's several Parts, are needless to rehearse,
From Top, to Toe, he look'd exceeding fierce.
Boyd, Adam Wallace, wait on him with Speed,
Along a River thro' a Flowry Mead.
Thus, on the Eields all pleasant sweet and green,
Fetching a walk, they spy the English Queen.
Towards the Host riding, most soberly,
With Fifty Ladies in her Company.
And Seven old Priests, Religious, Grave and Wise,
Who in all Matters did the Queen advise.
To the Pavilion with the Lyon, all
Ride, then light down and on their Knees do fall.
Praying for Peace, with many a piteous Tear,
Lord Malcom said our Chiftain is not here.
Pray Madam rise, a Queen I'll not allow,
Unto a Subject on her Knees to bow.
Then did he lead her by the tender Hand,
To Wallace, where, he like a Prince did stand.
So soon's she saw him, she began to kneel,
Then Wallace did a mighty Passion feel.
He her embrac'd, and kiss'd, but did no more,
The like to Suthron, he ne'er did before.
Then smiling, softly whisper'd in her Ear,
Madam, how please you our encamping here.
Sir very well, but we your Friendship, need
GOD grant we may in this our Errand speed.
Madam, I must remove a little Space
With this Lord; then I'll wait upon your Grace.
To the Pavilion, both they do repair,
And very quickly call a Council there,
Where he enlarg'd, on Women's Subtilty,
How by their cunning, Men may tempted be,
On pain of Death, therefore your Men Command,
Or to their highest Perill let them stand,
That none with them converse, but such as born
Of high Blood are, and to this Counsel sworn.
This, out in Orders thro' the the Army's gone,
To ev'ry single, individual one.
Then to the Queen, he and the Earl went,
And Courteously, conduct'd her to the Tent.
Went to a sumptuous, noble Dinner then,
All serv'd with stately, handsome Gentlemen.
Some of her chiefest, royal Dainties there,
The Queen pull'd out, and kindly bid them share.
Of ev'ry Thing, she first did taste and prieve,
No Poison's here, my Lords you may believe.
Soon after Meat, all did themselves absent,
Excepting those, that to the Counsel went.
Mean while the Ladies, did the Queen attend,
Untill the Counsel over was and then,
Good Wallace quickly waited on the Queen,
And calmly ask'd, what did her Journey mean.
Peace, said the Queen, we have no other thought,
This raging War, hath such Destruction wrought.
Then grant it Sir, for his sake dy'd for us,
Madam, we cannot lightly leave it thus.
You ask no peace, but for your own self Ends,
That cannot make us a sufficient mends.
For the unjustice, done our Royal Prince,
The breach of Faith, and Blood shed ever since.
These wrongs she said, ought all to be redrest,
But Wallace still, the more for Battle prest.
The Queen she answer'd, with great Modesty,
Peace now were best, if it might purchas'd be;
For which if you a Truce with us will take,
Thro' England all, we shall cause Prayers make;
That Matters go not on, from bad to worse.
Compelled Prayers Madam have no Force,
Before that they get half way to the Heav'ns,
I hope for Mends, then shall we all be ev'ns.
Then to the Queen did all the Story tell,
At Alexander's Death, what us befell.
How Bruce, and Balliol, long Time did contend
Who should be King, at length did condescend
And did the Matter to a Ref'rence bring,
To the Decision, of her Lord, and King.
And how unjustly Edward did decide,
And then usurp the Crown, thro' Hellish pride
In short he told her all the Story o'er,
As I have told you in my Book before.
How Edward made him Prisoner at Air,
Broke a strict Truce, and hang'd our Barrons there,
How Hesilrig, kill'd his beloved Wife.
And therefore would hate Suthron during Life.
The Silver Tears, (great Pity to behold,)
Came trickling down, when he his Tale had told
The Queen, with Wallace so did sympathize.
The Tears that Moment, blinded both her Eyes.
Curs'd Days she said that Hisilrig was born,
On his Account, many are now forlorn.
As Queen or Princess Madam then said he,
She in her Time, was full as dear to me.
Wallace she said, from this Discourse we'll cease,
The Mends thereof, is Prayer and good Peace.
Three Thousand Pound, she down before him told,
All of the finest and true English Gold;
Such Tribute Madam, now we do not crave,
Another Mends of England we would have.
For all the Gold and Riches, of your Reign,
I'll grant no Peace, in absence of your King.
When she saw Gold, nothing would Wallace move,
Then sporting said, Sir you are call'd my Love
I've ventur'd here my Life laid at the Stake,
Methinks you should do something for my sake;
In love you Suth'ron, with your subtile Cracks,
One Thing pretends, and the quite contrair acts.
With pleasant Words, you and such Ladies fair,
Would us decoy like Birds into a Snare,
We'll take our Chance, whatever may befall,
No flattering Words, nor Gold, shall tempt us all.
At which, a rosey Blush her Cheeks did fill,
Dear Sir she said, pray let me know your will;
For solemnly I here to your protest,
I think a Truce, would for us both be best;
With Ladys, Madam, Truce I cannot make,
Least your false King hereafter do it break.
Then have we none, but Ladys to reprove,
That shall not be, by him that sits above.
The whole Affair he on himself shall take,
Of Peace, or War, what e'er we chance to make.
The Queen she said, it was sufficient,
To which the rest did freely all consent.
Yet sorry was she and did blush for Shame,
That she obtain'd not all for which she came.
Unto the Host, the Gold she freely gave,
To ev'ry one, that pleased for to have.
When Wallace saw, what ev'ry one had got.
He said, that Kindness should not be forgot.
We you assure, our Host shall nothing Act,
Till you a Message, from your King send back.
Your Heraulds also, hither to and fro,
May likewise very safely come and go.
She and her Ladys, thank'd him then and drank,
To Wallace, and the Lords of ev'ry Rank,
Her leave she took, no longer there abode,
Five Miles that Night unto a Nunn'ry rode.
And on the Morn, to London travell'd they,
To Westminster, where King and Counsel lay.
Wallace's Answer show'd, and did report,
Most nobly of him, both to King and Court.
Upon his Wit, and Manhood, did comment,
His Freedom, Truth, and martial Government.
More Chiftain-like he's in his Armour seen,
Than ever yet I think in England's been.
From Honour he, (on which he's so much bent,)
Will not retract, for all the Kingdom's Rent.
Then purchase Peace, and I shall add no more,
Or else all England may repent it sore.
Mean Time, unto your Heraulds he gives leave,
To come and go, and no Man dare them grieve.
The King and Council, in their Minds were eas'd,
Thanked the Queen, and all were bravely pleas'd
Then all concluded, it was only best,
To take a Truce, else they would get no Rest.
Then do dispatch a Herauld wise and grave,
To whom safe Conduct Wallace frankly gave,
Then Clifford, Bewmont, Woodstock, doe procure,
To treat with Wallace a most ample Pow'r.
Thus these Three Lords, to him ride all in State,
Where subtilly Woodstock did there debate.
To which good Wallace did reply again,
You speak in Sophisms, but I'll tell you plain;
Roxburgh and Berwick, you must us restore
Which was our Right and Heritage bofore.
Also we ask, by Vertue of this Bond,
Our Native King so long keep'd from his own.
Those you shall grant, on your King's Faith to me
To which, on Sight the Lords did all agree.
The Randal Young' whom there he did demand,
And the Lord Lorn, were granted to his Hand.
The Earl Buchan, tender but, and Young
He did obtain for the wind of his Tongue.
Cumming, and Souls, he caus'd deliver als,
Who, after to King Robert, proved false.
Vallance for fear, durst scarcely keep his Bed,
But like a Thief, to Pickardie he fled.
The noble Bruce alas was gone away,
Before that Time, to Calice many a Day,
Unto his Uncle Glocester; which Thing,
King Edward prov'd, so Wallace wants his King:
The Earl Patrick, who at London stay'd,
No more Allegiance to King Edward pay'd.
But unto Wallace speedily came down,
And held his Lands all of the Scottish Crown.
An Hundred Horse, with brave Scots Noblemen,
Came trooping gladly all to Wallace then.
Under his Seal King Edward then did send,
And caus'd deliver, to the Scottish Men,
Roxburgh, and Berwick, Five Years Peace ensues,
To ancient Scotland, great and glorious News.
Which unto Wallace quickly was sent down,
And fairly sign'd, closs by Northallertoun:
To Bamburgh, came the Scottish Army then,
Which did consist of Sixty Thousand Men.
To Carham Moor, came all in good Array,
With Hearts rejoicing upon Lambmass Day.
The Priest next Day, in Church did Wallace please,
Deliver'd him, Roxburgh and Berwick Keys.
Berwick, to Ramsay he gave, on the Spot,
And noble Seatoun, Roxburgh Castle got.
With Earl Patrick, Wallace without more,
Rode to Dunbar, and there did him restore.
Scotland all o'er, from Rosss to Sollway Sand,
Wallace he did give Statutes to the Land.
Unto the Lennox then, he did repair,
Sir John Montieth, that Time was Captain there.
And twice before had Wallace Gossip been,
Yet now no Friendship was betwixt them seen.
Upon a Rock a House he founded there,
Then to the March he did again repair.
In Roxburgh then, he choos'd a handsome Place,
And built a Tow'r within a little Space.
Jop twice he sent to Bruce of Huntingtoun,
Beseeching him to come, and take the Crown.
Such counsel of the Saxons false took he,
In all his Life, he Wallace ne'er did see.
Three Years the Kingdom, Quiet had and Rest,
And ev'ry Man, his own with Peace possest.

The Ninth BOOK OF Sir William Wallace.

CHAP. I. How the King of France wrote to WALLACE by his Herauld, and WALLACE's Answer.

CHAP. II. How WALLACE went to France, fought the Red-River, and took him Prisoner.

Toward his Voyage, Wallace does advance
And at Kirkcudbright shipping takes for France.
With Fifty brave, stout Scottish Gentlemen,
Above what I describe can with my Pen.
'Mongst whom, were Four of his own Kinsmen near,
Two Wallaces, Crawford and Cleland dear.
Drank their Bonalies, in good Wine and Ale,
Then cheerfully, for Sea hois'd up their Sail.
Sail'd that whole Day, and all the following Night.
Then on the Morn, when the Sun shined bright.
The Ship Master, sprang quickly up a Rope,
Where suddenly he spy'd, from the main Top,
Sixteen great Ships, that boldly up did bear,
And towards him a steady Course did steer.
In colour Red, which with the Sun-shine bright,
The Sea all o'er illuminat with Light.
At which the Master almost fell a Swoon,
Affrighted sore, he quickly then came down.
Alas said he, that ever I was born!
Without remead, our Lives are all forlorn.
Curse on the Time that I did take in Hand,
This Voyage, O! that I were back at Land,
And buried were into some lonely Grave,
So Wallace Life with Honour I might save.
Master, said Wallace what needs all this Moan,
Oh Sir here's Sixteen Sail against our one.
Him that Commands, nought but our Blood will please,
He Sixteen Years has been King of the Seas.
Then Wallace ask'd, wot's thou what he may be,
The Red-River, a Tyrant strong is he.
He saveth none, for Gold or other good,
But kills, and drowns all, in the brynie Flood.
Since better may not be I pray thee Show,
Some Mark said VVallace, how I shall him know;
The Master said, at first Sight you will ken,
And soon may him distinguish from his Men.
A handsome, proper Man, as is in France,
And of a Manly Scottish Countenance.
Taller than any of his Men a deal
And cloath'd in Scarlet, 'bove a Coat of Mail.
The foremost Ship that does pursue us so,
Himself is in, and that you'll quickly know.
When he comes near, he boldly will you hail,
Then speedily be sure to strike your Sail.
He'll enter first himself most hardily,
These are the Signs that you shall know him by.
A Bar of Blew, into his shining Shield,
A Bend of White desiring ay the Field.
The Red betokens Blood, and Hardiness,
The White his Courage, strongly doth increase.
The Blew he wears, 'cause he's a Christian.
Then Wallace said, he must be no good Man.
For sure I am, this is no Christian Deed,
Get you below, may the great GOD us speed.
The Shipmaster, and the Steer Men also,
He made go down, into the Hould below.
His Fifty Men who were the very best,
That he could choose, soon were in Armour drest.
Fourty and Eight, closs on the Deck caus'd lye,
On William Craford, then in haste did Cry:
When the Red Reaver hails us, strike amain,
At my command hale up the Sail again.
Dear Cousin Cleland, take the Helm in Hand,
Here on the Deck closs by thee I will stand.
May the great GOD, us and our Ship, both Guide,
The Reaver's Barge came then closs by their Side.
Himself he stood aloft, with a drawn Sword,
And bade the Steers-Man, lay enlong the Board.
Aloud he cry'd, strike Dogs or you shall dye,
Crawford let down the Sail then speedily.
The Captain ent'red first no way's aghast,
Then Wallace gripp'd him, by the Gorget fast:
And threw him down on the Deck where he stood,
While Mouth and Nose, all gushed out of Blood.
A dagger Knife, Wallace in hast drew out,
Then with pale Face, the Reaver look'd about;
Mercy he cry'd, for him that dy'd on Rood,
To Mend my Life; That have spilt so much Blood
In La[illeg.] Tongue, to Wallace then said he,
For God's sake Sir, pray grant my Life to me.
His Weapons all, Wallace did quickly take,
Him by the Hand did lift, and Pris'ner make.
Then made him swear, on his sharp Sword, and Long,
From that Day forth, he never should him wrong
Command thy Men said Wallace, to the Peace,
And quickly cause their shot of Guns to cease.
A Glove, the Reaver held up on the Spot,
Seeing the Sign, his Men forbore their Shot.
His largest Barge, to him he then did call,
Give over War, our true Friends these are all.
Then asked at what Port Wallace would be,
Unto the Rochel, quickly answer'd he.
The Reaver, bids his Men to Rochel steer,
They tack about, when his Command they hear.
Wallace said pray what Country Man art thou,
A French Man Sir, and my Fore-fathers too.
Wallace then ask'd, how came thou to this Life,
By the Mischance Sir of a sudden Strife.
At Court, I kill'd a Man dead at one Stroke,
Which did the King most hainously provoke.
Thro' Friends in Court, I 'scaped off that Place.
And since could ne'er obtain his Royal Grace.
To Burdeous, thereafter made a Trip,
And on a Night, did sieze an English Ship.
Ill Doers to my self I soon got moe,
And in a little multiplied so.
That I, these Sixteen Years have rung at Sea.
And shed much Blood, for which, Oh! Wo is me.
And now, for the great Mischiefs I have done,
In spite of Fate, I'm vanquished by one.
Thus I confess, to my Eternal Shame,
My Bloody Life: But pray Sir what's your Name.
That with your own, single but valiant Hand,
Does me and all my Sixteen Sail Command.
None but brave Wallace the Scots Champion sure,
Could thus have baffled me, and all my Pow'r;
None else I know, encounter me should dare
It were great Honour to Serve in his War,
Then Wallace smiling answ'red modestly.
Scotland had need of many such as thee.
What is thy Name, thinks VVallace wants a Peel,
Monsieur said he, Thomas of Longeveil.
Well bruick thy Name, yea here shall end our strife,
If thou'll repent and mend, thy bypast Life.
For which thy faithfull Friend I'll ever be,
I'm that same Wallace, whom thou now does see
Upon his Knees then Longoveil fell down,
As Wallace had been King, that wears the Crown.
That I'm fall'n in your Hands, I'm pleas'd much more,
Than I had gotten Florins Sixty Score.
Wallace reply'd, since thou are here by chance,
And that the King, has sent for me to France.
I'll tell him, that for my Reward I want,
Thy Peace, and Pardon, which I hope he'll grant.
Could you my Peace obtain, Longoveil says,
Most faithfully, I'd serve you all my Days.
No Service Thomas shalt thou give to me.
But such good Friendship, as I'll keep with thee.
With that they fill'd the Wine, and merry made,
And upon Sight, were in the Rochel Rade.
Now now the Town, is in a sudden Fear,
When the Red-Reaver, and his Ships appear.
Some Ships they fled and others run ashore
When Wallace saw they frighted were so sore:
He did command, none in the Hav'n should go,
But his own Barge, which pleas'd the People so
That they no sooner, the Red-Lyon saw,
In the Scots Banner, but they gave Huzza.
Let up the Port, receiv'd them in the Town,
VVith great Respect, then entertain'd them round.
Wallace they saw a goodly Scottishman,
And honour'd him, with all Respect they can.
Four Days he tarried, at the Rochel, then,
Gave strict Command to Longoviel his Men,
That they discreetly would behave, and well
And nothing act, that might be thought hostile;
For shortly he, would either send or bring,
Unto them all, a Pardon from the King.
Your Captain to the King shall go with me;
By help of GOD, I shall his Warrand be,
Like his own Men, he cloathed Thomas so,
There was no Man that Longoveil could know.
Both blyth and glad, as any Men alive,
They march, and then at Paris do arrive.
In splendid Order to a Garden went,
Then gallantly before the King present.
Fifty and Two, upon their Knees do fall,
Salute the King most fine, like Princes all.
Their Speech they do govern, and so well rule,
As they'd been taught at Julius Cæsar's School.
The Queen got leave (so curious was) to see,
Brave Wallace, and his goodly Company.
The King he dines, as did the Court also,
Then after Meat, does to the Parlour go.
He, and his Lords, commun'd on ev'ry Thing,
With Wallace who did greatly please the King;
In Latine Tongue, his Answer did advance.
With a Serene, and Manly Countenance,
The King he ask'd, where the Red Reaver was,
And marvell'd how that Tyrant let him pass.
You with the Herauld might have writ to me,
For Power to convey you thro' the Sea.
I thank you Sir, no need thereof had we,
Blessed be God, we're all safe as you see,
Then said the King, Wallace, I wonder much,
You have escap'd that Bloody Tyrants Clutch.
Who on the Sea, such Cruelties has wrought,
Could we him get he should not 'scape for nought.
Thomas he quak'd, began to count his Beads,
When as the King, related his Misdeeds.
Wallace gave Ear, but feigned in some part,
Forsooth said he we found none in that Airt:
But Sir, with leave, would ye the Reaver know,
Fy, since I saw him, it is long ago.
These Words of yours, Wallace, are all in vain,
E'er he come here many he'll cause be slain.
Then Wallace said, great Sir of my Men all,
Who is the Man, likest to him you'd call.
The King reply'd, with a quick piercing Eye,
That large long Man that next to you stands by.
Then on his Knees the worthy VVallace fell,
O royal King said he pray hear me tell,
How Saxon-Seed, hath Scotland sore distrest,
Our Elders kill'd and royal Blood opprest,
Your Majesty methinks should interpose,
In our Behalf, and curb our Lawless Foes.
And that by Vertue of the League and Band,
'Twixt FRANCE and SCOTLAND does so firmly stand.
Next, since at your Command come here I have,
One Favour Sir, I humbly of you crave.
The King reply'd I'll grant, or pay you down,
What e'er you ask, except my Queen or Crown.
Most Royal Sir, said Wallace, all I want
Is, that you'll graciously be pleas'd to grant,
Peace to this Man, whom I brought here thro' Chance,
And I'll disclaim all other Gifts in France.
This same is he, you may believe it well,
Of whom you speak, Thomas of Longoveil.
Receive him as a free Leige of your Land,
At which the King was put unto a Stand;
Yet for his Promise, and good Wallace Sake.
Into his Peace he Longoveil did take.
The King he ask'd at Wallace, how and where,
He met with Longoveil, who did declare,
And there rehearse the Manner how, all o'er,
As you have heard the Story told before.
Wallace to Thomas also purchas'd then,
Peace unto all his Fourteen Hundred Men.
Then on the very Spot where he did stand,
Was knighted by the King's own royal Hand.
Syne to his nearest Heir left his Estate,
Then with brave Wallace went and took his Fate.

CHAP. III. How WALLACE past into Guienne.

Three Weeks at Paris, Wallace did remain,
But longed much, to try the Wars again;
To march for Guyen, he esteem'd it best,
Because that Country English Men possest.
Then of the King took Leave, on's Knees did fall.
But took no French Men with him then at all.
Except Sir Thomas, and a warlike Crew
Of Valiant Scots, Nine Hundred stout and true;
VVho furiously with him to Guyen ride,
And Fire raise, thro' all that Country wide.
Forts and strong Castles, quickly they break down,
And put to Death many a Suthron Lown.
A warlike Town Scemen stood in that Land,
VVhich English Men, had under their Command.
The Town it stood upon a VVater-Side,
VVithin a Park, that was both long and wide.
Toward that Place, most valiantly then,
VVallace he march'd, with his Nine Hundred Men.
Four Hundred to himself took speedily.
The rest with Crawford caus'd in Ambush ly.
VVallace his Men, all gallantly array'd,
Before the Town their Banner there display'd.
The Lyon rampant, all in Gold did flee,
VVhich Sight before that Country ne'er did see.
The Park they range, great Booty drive away,
The War Men issued, to rescue the Prey.
But worthy Scots, have many English slain,
The rest fled back unto the Town again.
Fourty good Scots, pass'd with the Prey along,
Then ish'd again a Thousand English strong.
Wallace he caus'd his Men let go the Prey,
Then soon assembled all, in good Array.
A fierce Encounter there, you might have seen,
'Mongst those wight War-Men, in their Armour clean.
Vast Numbers lost their Lives on Suthron Side,
And yet the Rest most boldly did abide.
Some worthy Men there of the Scots they slew,
Then William Crawford who the Time well knew,
Out of the Park he made his Ambush fare,
Into the Field, where they all fighting were,
He at his Entry, many an one caus'd dye,
Yet English Men were very loath to fly.
But bravely fought, altho' they lost much Blood.
So few, so long, 'gainst Wallace never stood.
Yet at the last, were all oblig'd to fly,
Whom Wallace did pursue most furiously.
And never knew, till he amids the throng,
Was in the Town, his Suthron Foes among.
With him was Crawford, Richard, Longoveil,
Fifteen in all, and no more I wot well.
A cunning Porter, got upon the Wall,
Pull'd out the Pin, let the Portculzies fall.
Then cruelly the English on them set,
But to the Wall the Scots their Backs did get.
Cut down the Suthron, all their Force defy'd,
Then Richard Wallace, he the Porter spy'd:
Knock't out his Brains, with little Noise or Din,
Got up the Port, let all the Scotsmen in.
Who spared none, that they before them fand,
If they a Sword, or Weapon, had in Hand.
All other Lives most Christianly did spare,
But seiz'd the Goods, and Riches all were there.
The Town with French replenish'd quickly; then,
Wallace the Field takes briskly with his Men.
At which the King delay'd not very long,
But rais'd an Army Twenty Thousand Strong.
All faithfull Subjects of the Crown of France,
Led by his Brother, Duke of Orleance.
Thro' Guyen Land a speedy March they make.
At Burdeous do Wallace overtake.
Some said that Town did mightily incline
To fight good Wallace, but soon chang'd their Mind.
And sent Express to Piccardy by Post,
Telling of Wallace, and the new rais'd Host.
Glocester then Captain of Calais, went,
And told all to the English Parliament.
Some plainly said, Wallace had broke the Truce,
Others said Nay, that never was his use.
Lord Bewmont said, with Judgement most Profound,
VVallace for Scotland, not for France was Bound.
Yet Woodstock, from his Malice could not cease,
But still affirm'd, Wallace had broke the Peace.
And told the King, if he'd his Council take,
Now was the Time, on Scotland War to make.
What Woodstock said, all did conclude it right,
By Sea and Land, a Force they raise on Sight.
Glocester, he leads on the Army's Van,
Longcastle, does the middleward Command;
Then Sir John Psewart to the Sea was sent,
Who all the North-land perfectly well kent.
Vallange the Knight, before the Army went
Who all the Mischief did he could invent,
And made some Scots with his enticing Word,
Yield up their Castles, without stroke of Sword,
E'er the best Sort, knew it was War in plain.
In Bothwel Castle, he was set again.
And Sir John Peswart, who came by the Sea,
Soon got St. Johnstoun, by a Jeopardie,
Dundee they took, left not a Man on Life,
Then plundered; and soon possessed Fife.
And all the South, from Cheviot, to the Sea,
O barbarous, and cruel Enemy!
To Rauchry fled good Adam Wallace then,
And Robert Boyd to Bute, Two gallant Men.
Sir John the Graham, in Dundaff durst not bide;
But marched to the Forrest fair of Clyde.
Lundie from Fife he stole away by Night,
Eighteen with him that cliver were and tight.
And his young Son, then but of tender Age,
To Dundaff Moor, they all away do page.
Thinking to meet with good Sir John the Graham,
Who often made the Suthron fly with Shame.
Thomas of Thorn, took Lanerk the next Day,
Lundie and Hay, no longer there durst stay.
But to South-Tinto, quickly did repair,
And good Sir John, did gladly meet them there.
Vallange had order'd great Provisions then,
Under a Guard of Fourscore English Men.
For Bothwel Castle, but unto their Shame,
Were soon surpriz'd, by Lundie and by Graham.
Who with some hardy Scots, Fifty I trow,
Of Fourscore Suthron, Sixty there they slew.
Got Gold, and Goods, and all remain'd alive,
On the Scot's Side, excepting only Five
Then marched all away upon a Night,
Unto the Lennox, in their Armour bright.
Seatoun and Lyle they lodged in the Bass,
But Hugh the Hay, sent unto England was,
Then the North Country Lords do in the End,
The Squire Guthrie unto Wallace send.
At Aberbrothock Shipping took for Sea,
And safely at the Sluce soon landed he.
To Wallace went, and told in sorry Mood,
How sadly Matters now in Scotland stood.
Then Wallace said, O Suthron, all Mansworn,
For Perfidy, such Rogues were never born.
Their former Treachery, did we not feel,
Ev'n when the Truce was sign'd with their great Seal.
Who notwithstanding, most unchristianly,
Caus'd Eighteen Score of our brave Barrons dye.
To the great GOD, my Vow I here do make,
Peace with that King, hereafter nee'r to take.
He shall repent, that he this War began,
If it please GOD I be a living Man.
Then does Address the King for Liberty
To go for Scotland with his Company.
With much adoe the King did condescend,
With that Proviso when the War did end,
And he triumph'd had oe'r his Suthron Foes,
He should return to France, and no Time lose.
Which if he did, he freely might command,
At his Return, a Lordship of good Land.
Wallace takes leave, goes streight for Flanders then,
With good Sir Thomas, and his Country-Men.
The Squire Guthrie's Barge at Sluce lay still,
To Sea they went in Haste, with a good will.
Fair Wind, and Weather, nothing worse they fand,
Then at Montross, they safely all do land.
Good Sir John Ramsay, and the Ruthven true,
Barclay and Bisset, with Men not a few:
Do Wallace meet, all Canty, Keen, and Crouss,
And with Three Hundred, march to Ochter House.

The Tenth BOOK OF Sir William Wallace.

The Eleventh BOOK OF Sir William Wallace.

CHAP. I. The Battle of Falkirk.

Young Woodstock now, all in his Airs is got,
He'll Wallace fight, rescue Dundee, what not?
But was surpriz'd, when looking round about,
He Wallace saw, with him Eight Thousand stout
Old bardy Boys, which made him change his Hue,
And on a sudden look both Pale and Blue.
But finding them in Number less than he,
Resolves to fight, and not a Foot to flee.
On Sherriff-Moor Wallace drew up his Men,
Who had Eight Thousand 'gainst Lord Wood-Stock's Ten
There furiously the Armies do engage
Each other, in a Desp'rate Bloody Rage.
The hardy Scots together stuck so true,
In Rank and File Seven Thousand Suthron slew.
Three Thousand more who fought and would not yeild,
VVere quickly all cut down upon the Field.
Lord Woodstock dead among them also lay,
Not one escap'd the Sword that fatal Day;
Silver and Gold, Horses and other Spoil,
Scotsmen got to remunerat their Toil.
VVithout a Halt to Stirling Bridge they ride,
And all pass over to the other Side.
Then Carpenters and Crafts men quickly call.
VVho presently undo the Passage all.
To the Dridfoord Wallace he sent them syne
VVho ordered all according to his Mind.
Then made he Lauder very quickly pass,
Along the Coast where any Vessel was
And Men with him who searched every Nook,
And from each Boat a Board or Two they took,
In Stirling then lay with his Foot and Horse,
VVatching what VVay the English bent their Force.
The Earl Malcolm came to VVallace then,
With the brave Lennox Lads true hearted Men.
Sir John the Graham came also speedily,
Attended with a Glorious Company.
Who Tydings brought King Edward was at Hand.
Ev'n at Torphichen with his Suthron Band.
Stuart of Bute with a great Number next
To Wallace came for Battle bravely fixt.
Who on the Morrow with the Cummine arch,
Each with Ten Thousand, to Falkirk did march.
Ten Thousand also of brave valiant Men,
Wallace drew quickly up in Order then,
There Earl Malcolm was of mighty Fame,
And that renowned Knight Sir John the Graham
Seaton, and Lauder, Boyd the stout and tight.
And Adam Wallace, a most noble Sight.
Then by Express came Information sure,
The Suthron all were in Slamannan-Moor.
Pitching their Tents, setting Pavilions down,
Be South Falkirk, litle above the Town.
Jop view'd their Number as they went along
VVhich was compute one Hundred Thousand Strong.
Nevertheless, the Scots do Courage take
At Sight of VVallace, and all Fear forsake.
The Cummine here, fy on him for a Scot,
'Gainst Wallace does contrive a hellish Plot.
Told the Lord Stuart Wallace had no Right
To lead the Van, before him in the Fight.
Which bred great Heat betwixt the Gallant Two,
So subtily Cummine the Coal did blow.
The Stuart then does toward Wallace make,
Pray Sir, what Course is proper now to take.
For Edward comes with a prodigious Power;
To fight said Wallace, there's no other Cure.
With far more Troops I've seen yon King appear,
And soundly beat, with fewer Men than here.
Let's to it then for we have Men anew,
Likely and good, providing they be true
Then Stuart said the Van-Guard he would have;
Wallace reply'd, as God my Soul shall save
That shall ye not, I'll grant you no such Thing,
Nor no Man else, except my righteous King.
Twice have I rescu'd this my Native Land,
And shall I now resign my old Command.
I let you know, its neither Brag nor Boast,
Will bully me out of my righteous Post.
So much a Fool I am not Sir, by half,
At such a Time to quit my Marshalls Staff,
To which the Stuart answered again
The Owl did of his Feathers once complain,
At which Dame Nature took a Feather fair
From every Bird, and him delivered there.
Which Gift the Owl no sooner did receive,
Than he thro' Pride rebuted all the lave.
Why then so high Sir? does it not appear,
That you condemn all but you self are here
Then of your Men be not so Vain, but mind,
Had each his own, you should have few behind.
Wallace enrag'd, flew in a flame of Fire,
And too too rashly call'd the Stuart Liar,
No Owl I am, for I have often been,
At the Noon Day where thou durst not be seen:
Fighting thy Foes, for Glory not for Pelf,
This Parable thou speak'st against thy self.
It is the Cummine has thee thus advis'd,
I know his Speech, tho' masked and disguis'd.
From Danger great I did relieve that Slave,
And this is all the Thanks I now receive.
No Succour then expect from me this Day,
Then wheel'd and with Ten Thousand rode away.
Great Comfort this did to the English yeild
And almost forc'd the Scots to leave the Field.
At which the Stuart greiving much he swore,
Cummine should rue his base Advice full sore.
For that he now did very plainly see,
His Plot was only Self and Treachery.
The Earl Hartford 'gainst the Stuart then,
Advanc'd with Thirty Thousand Englishmen.
Whom the brave Stuart charg'd so fierce and hot,
That Hartford's Men in Heaps lay on the Spot.
When Spears were broke, boldly their Swords they drew
And Twenty Thousand of the Suthron slew,
The Rest they fled unto their King with Grief,
VVho sent Ten Thousand for a fresh Relief.
VVhich when the noble Champion Wallace saw,
And the brave Scots up in Battalie draw.
Held up his Hands, and fervently did say,
O GOD Assist yon Lord I humbly Pray;
And tho' he be with fresh Force overset.
Grant he the Victory o'er his Foes may get,
By this the Bruce and Bishop Beik, do then,
Fiercely advance with Forty Thousand Men.
When Wallace did the Bruce's-Banner know,
Good GOD said he how do this World go.
To see a Man so forward and so rude,
As fight against his Native Flesh and Blood.
Were I but free of my rash Oath and Vow,
I'd either dy or Stuart brave rescue.
Kindness said pray rescue him from the Foe,
But Will said Nay, why Fool wilt thou do so?
Kindness reply'd they are good Scottish Men,
On that said Will I cannot much depend.
Had they been good, as one we all had been,
The contrair whereof now is plainly seen.
Tho' one be false said Kindness that ne'er shall,
Make us neglect the Rest and lose them all.
Who have behaved so well and Suthron slain,
Rescue them now and thereby Honour gain.
Then on the Rogue, occasion'd all the Strife,
Avenge thy self if he be found on Life,
Will said this Day they shall not helped be,
What I have said, shall still be said for me.
With that the Tears unto their great Surprize,
Burst out and trickled down from both his Eyes.
Sir John the Graham and many others more,
For the brave Stuart weeped wondrous sore.
To see him with such Numbers overpowr'd.
While Cowardly the Cummine fled and scour'd
The Men of Bute before their Lord they stood,
Defending him in streams of their own Blood.
Till at the last so faint and weary grown,
They by the Bruce are all quite overthrown:
And brave Lord Stuart scorning for to yeild.
With his good Men lay dead upon the Field,
Then Wallace turn'd about to his Men true.
My Lords said he what's proper now to do.
If we turn East for Strength in Louthian Land,
They'll us pursue, with all their Numerous Band
Take we the Moor King Edward is before;
We have but one Thing for't without words more
To the Tor-Wood in Order all Compleat,
Thro' Bruce's Host we'll fight a brave Retreat,
To which they all did chearfully consent.
And as one Man were all alike content,
Good Wallace then mounting his Horse on Sight
March'd at their Head in shining Armour bright.
With harnish'd Horse when to the Host he drew,
The Cry arose and Spears in pieces flew,
So fiercely sought the Scots, that by and by.
Eight Thousand Suthron on the Field did ly.
E'er Bruce and Beik, their Men got in array,
Wallace pass'd thro' and cleanly cut his Way.
Then gave Command to march his Host on Sight,
To the Tor-Wood with all the speed they might.
He and Sir John the Graham and Lauder then,
Stay'd with Three Hundred Stout West Country Men.
Expert in War would hazard any Thing,
Who do attack some of the En'mies Wing.
No Spears they had, but Swords of Temper'd Steel.
As to their Smart the Englishmen did feel,
For e'er the Bruce thereof could Knowledge have,
Wallace had sent Three Hundred to their Grave,
With Thirty Thousand Men Bruce did pursue
His Native Scots, the Suthron to rescue.
And order'd Beik for a Relief to be,
Which when good Wallace did observe and see,
Alas he said how Bruce with all his Might
Does ruin, and destroy his own true Right.
Wallace Commands his Men to their own Host
And stay'd behind for all the Bruce's Boast.
Yea on their Front so fiercely in he broke,
A Suthron there he slew at every Stroke,
But when retiring, woe is me therefore,
Under the Haunch the Bruce did Wound him sore.
At which the Graham and Lauder so inrag'd,
Did cut down all with whom they once engag'd.
For they alone bravely maintain'd their Ground,
While Wallace was a dressing of his Wound
Who with Three Hundred very quickly came,
To rescue Lauder and the noble Graham.
Then with fresh Force does Bishop Beik appear,
Who makes the Scots Seven Aiker broad retire.
Yet were the Two delivered there full well,
By Wallace Hand, and a good Sword of Steel
At this successful, brisk and bold Rescue,
The awful Bruce three gallant Scotsmen slew.
Then with great Fury with a Spear or Lance,
At Wallace struck, but miss'd him by good Chance.
To whom a backward Stroke good Wallace gave,
Which his Horse Neck and Spear asunder clave.
Bruce was at Ground e'er Wallace look'd about,
But was re-hors'd by valiant Men and stout
And Wallace all alone left in the Stour,
Which Graham perceiving 'spite of all their Pow'r;
Bravely advanc'd, and struck an English Knight,
Before the Bruce, upon the Baisnet Right,
So furiously, that, with a single Blow,
He cut him down, and then away did go.
But Oh my Heart does grieve and bleed to tell,
What after this, the noble Graham befell.
A subtile English Knight there suddenly,
An open 'twixt his Harnish did espy,
Thro' which alace, who can forbear to tear?
He in his Bowels thrust his bloody Spear,
And yet the Graham for all his mortal Wound.
Turn'd, kill'd the Knight and rush'd him to the Ground.
Then christianly, in Temper calm, and sweet,
To the Almighty did resign his Sp'rit.
When Wallace saw the gallant Graham was gone
How did it rack him to the very Bone.
Like one demented, and from Reason rent,
Amidst the Suthron Host with Fury went.
Enraged at the loss of Graham that Day,
He cut down all that came into his Way.
When Bruce perceived Wallace in such Rage,
He order'd Spearmen with him to engage.
To kill his Horse that he might not escape,
They thought him all a Devil in Mans shape.
Then did the Suthron Spears on every Side,
Pierce his good Horse with cruel Wounds and wide.
In this sad Pickle Wallace by and by,
Thought it convenient for him now to fly.
Spurr'd up his Horse, lamenting still for Graham,
Then to his Folks at Carron Water came.
The Sea was in they stopped there and stood,
Aloud he cry'd and bade them take the Flood.
Accordingly the Host they all obey,
He follows on in all the Hast he may.
Who clad was with a heavy Coat of Mail
Which made him fear his wounded Horse would fail.
Yet thro' the Flood he bore him to the Land,
Then fell down dead (poor Beast) upon the Sand.
But Kierly soon re-mounted Wallace Wight,
Upon a Horse, both able, sound, and tight.
Rode to his Host; but oh! Graham was away,
And Fifteen more brave Scots on Mag'dlane Day.
Yet Thirty Thousand of the Suthron Crew,
Most certainly that Day the Scotsmen slew.
What by the Stuart Stout and Wallace Wight,
To Edward sure a most confounding Sight.
To the Tor-wood Wallace commands his Host,
Kierly and he march along Carron Coast.
A Party on the other Side they spy,
Bruce marching first, who does on Wallace cry.
What art thou there? a Man Wallace did say,
Yes said the Bruce, that hast thou prov'd this Day.
Abide he said thou need'st not now to flee,
Wallace reply'd, it's not for fear of thee,
To talk with thee, the Bruce said I desire,
Say on said he, thou may'st for little Hire.
Ride from thine Host let them abide with Beik,
I fain would hear what thou inclines to speak.
What is the Cause said Bruce, thou wilt not cease
From bloody Wars, who mayest live in Peace.
It's thy own Fault said Wallace, be it known,
Who shamefully dost fight against thy own.
I claim no Right to rule, but to defend
My native Land, from Edward and his Men.
This Day thou's lost Two noble Knights and bold,
Worth more than Millions of the finest Gold.
The Stuart stout, the gallant Graham and wise,
With that the Tears came trinkling from his Eyes.
Thou that should be our true and Righteous King,
Destroys thy own, a cruel horrid Thing
But 'gainst the Suthron. I must tell you Sir,
Come Life come Death, I'll fight with all my Birr.
But wilt thou do as I shall Counsel give
Said Bruce, and as a Lord thou mayest live
At thine own Will, and enjoy every Thing
In Peace, if thou wilt hold of Edward King
No, No, said Wallace with Disdain and Scorn,
I'd rather choose be hang'd upon the Morn,
The great GOD knows, the Wars I took in Hand,
Was to keep free what thou does now gainstand.
In cursed Time thou was for Scotland born,
O Runnagado, Faithless and Mansworn.
I vow to GOD may I thy Master be,
In any Field thou shalt far rather die,
Than Turk or Pagan; this I shall keep good,
Thou grand devourer of thy native Blood.
Bruce smil'd and said, with Pow'r you'r overset,
You'll ne'er the upper Hand of Edward get.
Wallace reply'd this Day we're stronger far,
And I am sure much more expert in War,
Than when at Biggar, where he run for fear,
And left his Host, so doubtless shall he here.
Shall I leave Scotland now in such a Plight,
No Faith not I, till I redress its Right.
Well, said the Bruce, it now draws towards Night,
Will you meet me the Morrow when its Light
At Dunipace, and I do promise fair,
By Nine a Clock to here thy Council there.
No Wallace said, tho' Edward, had it sworn,
I'll have a Bout with him e'er Nine the Morn.
But if thou'll meet me at the Hour of Three,
By all that's good I doubtless shall thee see.
Bruce promis'd with Twelve Scotsmen to be there,
Wallace with Ten, which both kept to a Hair.
Thus did they part, and Bruce rode on his Way,
Near to Linlithgow where King Edward lay.
Into the King's Pavilion then does get,
Where with the Lords he was at Supper set,
Bruce sitting down in his own vacant Seat,
Call'd for no Water, but went straight to Meat.
Tho' all his Weapons and his other Weed,
Were stain'd with Blood, yet he began to feed:
The Suthron Lords did mock him in terms Rude,
And said behold yon Scot eats his own Blood.
The King he blush'd at this so Home a Jest,
And caus'd bring Water to the Bruce in hast.
They bade him wash, he told them he would not,
The Blood is mine, which vexes most my Thought.
Then did he sadly to his Mind recal,
And did believe what Wallace told him all.
With rueful Thoughts, the Bruce most sadly tost
I leave; and follow Wallace to his Host.
At the Tor-Wood, where speedily he goes,
Sleeped a little and thereafter rose.
His Host consisting of Ten Thousand Men,
Drew quickly up in noble Order then,
The Earl Malcolm, Ramsay, Lundie wight.
Command Five Thousand gallant Men and tight.
VVallace himself Lauder, and Seaton have
Led on Five Thousand valiant Men and brave.
VVith them good Wallace was of Riccartoun,
VVho never spar'd but hew'd the Suthron down.
All well aray'd in Armour bright, and clean,
March'd to the Field, where the great Fight had been
There narrowly they searched all the same,
And found the Corps of good Sir John the Graham,
Whom when good Wallace saw, he lighted down,
And did embrace that Knight of high Renown.
With Sorrow great beholding his Pale Face.
He kiss'd his Mouth, and often cry'd Alace.
My dearest Brother that I ever had,
My only Friend, when I was hard bestead.
My Hope, my Health O Man of Honour great.
My Faithfull Aid and Strength in every Strait.
Thy matchless Wisdom cannot here be told,
Thy noble Man-hood, Truth, and Courage bold,
Wisely thou knew to rule, and to govern,
Yea Virtue was thy chief and great Concern.
A bounteous Hand, a Heart as true as Steel,
A steady Mind, most courteous and gentile.
When I this Kingdom did at first rescue,
Great Honour then I'm sure to thee was due.
Wherefore I vow to the great GOD and swear,
Thy Death shall be to Suthron bought full dear.
Martyr thou art for Scotland's Right this Day,
Which I'll avenge with all the Might I may.
With that he sigh'd, and hugg'd him o'er again,
Was no Man there from weeping could refrain.
Then in Falkirk prepares his Sepulchre,
And does his noble Corps in Pomp interr:
On his Tomb-Stone the following Epitaph
They wrote, which put the Suthron in a Chaff
Unto the Bruce Wallace he forthwith rade,
To the Appointment was betwixt them made.
At sight of whom, his Face flusht in a Flame,
When he thought on the Loss of gallant Graham:
Does thou not rue said he in angry Mood,
Thy fighting 'gainst thy native Flesh and Blood.
Oh! said the Bruce rebuke me now no more,
My foolish Deeds do check and bite me sore
Wallace surprized, was put to a Stance,
Fell on his Knees and chang'd his Countenance.
At which the Bruce embrac'd him in his Arms,
And thus the Two came in good speaking Terms.
Pray Sir said Wallace leave that Suthron King,
The Bruce said that were an ignoble Thing;
I am so bound, faithful to be and leill,
For England I'll not falsifie my Seal.
But here I Promise unto GOD and thee,
Hereafter Scots shall ne'er be harm'd by me.
And if you Victors be, as grant you may,
I will not fight to save my Life this Day,
But with King Edward I'll return again,
Unless that I be taken or be slain.
And when my Term with him is fairly out,
May I escape I'll come to thee no doubt.
Thus Bruce took Leave and did to Edward post,
And Wallace soon returned to his Host.
Crawford he made the Earl Malcolm's Guide,
To Inneravin the low way to ride,
That Suthron Watches might not them espy,
The other Host himself led hastily.
By the South Manwel, where they were not seen
Of the Outwatches, there had planted been.
The Earl Malcolm enters Lithgow now,
Where a hot Dispute quickly did ensue.
Wallace and his made little Noise or Cry,
But on King Edward's Host fell suddenly.
And did their Weapons Gallantly imploy,
To his great Terror, but the Scotsmens Joy.
Tents and Pavilions were cast to the Ground,
Numbers of Suthron cut in Pieces down.
Edward he calls on Bruce, to round him then,
With Twenty Thousand of well harnish'd Men
But the Surprise put them in such a Ghast,
That they were flying from all Quarters fast.
Wallace his Way thro' them did cut so clean,
As if he had more than a Mortal been.
Edward himself most bravely did behave,
Which to his Men both Life and Vigour gave.
Yet nothing could the Scottish Courage tame.
When they thought on the loss of Gallant Graham.
They fought like Furies in that dreadful Throng,
And 'mongst the Suthron rais'd a dolefull Song,
The English Commons fled on every Side,
But the best sort did with the King abide,
'Mongst whom was Bruce, who did behold the Dance,
And looked on with feigned Countenance.
Lord Hartford then did make him for the Flight.
Unto his King a mortifying Sight.
Who all this Time to flee a Foot disdains,
Untill the Scots 'most seiz'd his Bridle Reins.
His Banner-Man close by him Wallace slew
Next to the Ground the Banner quickly flew.
At which the Scots were not a litle glad,
And then the King and all his Army fled,
Ten Thousand dead were in the Town and Field,
Before King Edward once his Ground would yeild.
Yet Twenty Thousand fled of Suthron Men,
Tho' at the first brave Wallace had but Ten,
The Scots in haste the Victory pursue,
All brave bold Men, stout like the Steel and true.
But Wallace wisely caus'd them close abide.
In a full Body and good Order ride.
Lest Suthron might at some convenient Place,
If they dispers'd, ralzy and turn the Chace.
In good Array thus rode they at his will,
And all they overtook did quickly kill,
They came so close upon the Suthron's Rear,
None from the Army durst come off for fear.
Ten Thousand Straglers joyn'd the Suthron Host
Thus Thirty Thousand fled to England Post.
Tho' the Scots Horse were almost spent yet they,
Caus'd Edward change his Horses oft that Day,
And then the Scots so closs upon them drew,
Three Thousand of the outmost Men they slew.
In Crawford Moor many a Man was slain,
Then Edward calls the Bruce to him again;
To charge the Scots with all his Power and Might,
For which he should be put in his own Right.
Then said the Bruce, Sir, loose me of my Band,
And I shall turn, I give you here my Hand.
When from the Bruce this Answer he did get,
He knew his Heart on Scotland then was set.
From that Time forth, Edward most subtilly,
Over the Bruce did cast a watchful Eye.
Bruce turned not, nor further Language made,
But with King Edward unto Solway rade.
Who when he came upon the English Coast,
Found, that he Fifty Thousand Men had lost.
VVallace returns to Edinburgh without more,
Makes Crawford Captain as he was before.
The like he did unto his Judges all,
Each in his former Office did install.
Thus he to Scotland Peace and great Content
Procur'd; and then streight to St. Johnstoun went:
Where all the Scottish Lords assembl'd were,
To whom he all his Progress did declare
By this Time Scrimzeor had reduc'd Dundee,
Then on a Gallows Mortoun hang'd was high.
Next was the Castle all in Rubbish laid,
And Scots no more of Suthron were afraid.
The noble Lords Wallace did then address,
And with good Air himself did thus express.
My Lords said he, since over all your Force
You made me Gen'ral, both of Foot and Horse,
I hope your Lordships plainly all do see,
Once more I've set this ancient Kingdom free.
And yet for all my Service, secretly,
Some do reproach me, what a Pox care I.
With what's Ignoble I dare boldly say,
There's none can charge me standing here this Day.
To stay at Home no longer I incline,
My Office therefore freely I resign.
No Gift I ask as my Reward or Fee,
I've Honour purchas'd, that's enough for me.
I'll back to France where I had Laud and Praise,
And spend the rest of my remaining Days.
The Lords did all oppose it, but in fine,
Was no Man there could make him change his Mind.
Most heartily he bad them all farewell,
Then march'd with Eighteen Men as stout as Steel.
The Baron's Sons of Brechin with him went,
And Longoveil, on Honour always bent.
Simon, and Richard, Wallace Nephews brave,
Went both along for Honour or a Grave.
Sir Thomas Gray the Priest with him did fare,
Good Edward Little, Jop, and Mr. Blair.
And Kierly who, had long with Wallace been,
Thro' all the Wars, and bloody Bouts had seen.
With those brave Men he shipped at Dundee,
Then hoised Sail, and fairly set to Sea.

CHAP. II. How WALLACE met with John of Lyn at Sea.

Along the English Coast they steered South,
Till opposite they came to Humber Mouth.
Then in the Sea a Ship did soon descry,
And on the Top Three Leopards standing High
Which when the Merchants narrowly did view,
Discourag'd were, and did their Voyage rue.
Knowing full well that it was John of Lyn,
Scots Blood to shed, who never thought it Sin.
Good Wallace smil'd and said be not dismay'd,
Of one poor single Ship why thus afraid.
Those Wood Cats fled us, and were frighted sore,
When Twice so many oftentimes before,
On a fair Field so shall they be at Sea,
If Suthron they and we true Scotsmen be.
That he's a Pyrat said the Steers-Men know,
And saves no Scotsman be he high or low.
A Flood he bears on his Armorial Coat,
First kills, then drowns, what Mischief does he not?
Wallace reply'd, since that the Case is so,
I'll sail the Ship, you Cowards get below.
Then his brave hardy valiant Men and he,
Array'd themselves in Harnish Cap a Pee.
Himself and Blair and the Knight Longoveil,
Command the Mid-Ship, and defend it well.
Before were Eight, Six he be-eft did send,
And Two he caus'd unto the Top ascend.
Gray Steers-Man was, which when the Merchants saw,
They Courage took altho' but Sogeors raw.
Some Skins with Wool they hastily did stuff,
This was their Harness, 'stead of Steel and Buff.
At which good Wallace very gently smiles
But does Commend their artificial VViles,
Then John of Lyne with Seven-score in his Barge,
Comes up and calls to Strike a hasty Charge.
At which Three Arrows Blair with a good will
Shot, and a Pirat at each Shot did kill.
The Bloody Rogues, and cruel Hellish Hounds,
Before they clasp'd, Mischiev'd the Scots with Guns.
But when they clasped, this I wot right well,
The Scottish Spears did pierce their finest Steel.
The Pirat's Shot drove thick as a Hail Show'r,
Most furiously the space near of an Hour.
When Shot was gone, the Scots do Courage take.
And with stout Handy Blows great havock made
The Merchants in their Woollen Harness then,
Behav'd themselves also like gallant Men.
Wallace and his, with sharp Swords furiously,
Cut down the Rogues, and made them quickly die.
Then John of Lyn was very much agast,
To see his Men about him fall so fast.
With eager will he would have been away.
Bade teck the Ship in all the hast they may.
But all in vain, for now he plainly sees,
His Sails by Crawford set unto a Bleeze.
Burn'd down in Ashes, without all Remead,
And Sixty of his best Men lying dead.
Boarding the Pirat, Wallace in the Sea
Did throw a Rogue, then killed other Three.
Brave Longoveil the Knight and Mr. Blair,
No Quarters gave to any they found there.
Off John of Lyn Wallace the wight and brave,
The Head and Helmet from his Body drave
And then his Men did cut down all the rest.
That did so long the Seas before infest.
Then to the Sluys straightway did Wallace sail,
With a successful, and a prosp'rous Gale.
Took all the Gold and Silver that he fand,
The Merchants got the Ship, then he to Land
Thro' Flanders rode, soon passed o'er the same,
Then entered France, and unto Paris came,
Which Tidings came unto the King in haste,
To whom good Wallace was a welcome Guest.
Unto the Parliament the King did then,
For a good Lordship VVallace recommend.
Who, 'cause that Guyen was out of their Hand,
They thought it best to gift him all that Land.
For well they knew he bravely fought before,
And did the Suthron mortally abhor.
This Decreet soon they shew'd unto the King,
Who highly was displeased at the Thing.
But Wallace said, no Land pleas'd him so well,
And that the Suthron they should quickly feel.
Immediately the King he made him Knight,
And gave him Gold for to maintain his Right.
And order'd all the Army of that Land,
For to obey what Wallace did Command.
I thank you Sir said he, for this Reward,
Yon Suthron, Faith shall be no longer spar'd
And now my Time I will no longer waste,
But to the Wars I will prepare in haste.
The Scotsmen all that were into that Land,
About him flock'd, and came with Heart and Hand.
With Longoveil a num'rous Force arose,
And to the Wars all with good Wallace goes.
Ten Thousand Men in Number then were they,
Who did the Scottish Banner soon display.
To Guyen marched all those good Men and true
Cast Castles down, and many Suthron slew.
They carry'd all before them in a Word,
None could, or durst resist their Fire and Sword.
Shemon which Wallace took before, they win,
And kill the Suthron all were found therein.
Into that Town Wallace made his Abode.
And did subdue all that whole Country broad.
The Duke of Orleans with Twelve Thousand bright,
Came to assist him and desend his Right.
Thus in his Town I leave him fairly fix'd,
And must speak something now of Scotland next.

CHAP. III. How Edward King of England came into Scotland, and made whole Conquest thereof.

Vallange the Knight, to Scotland did repair,
The false Montieth Sir John did meet him there.
Sir John the Lennox greatly did desire,
To whom Sir Aymer promis'd it in Hire.
To hold in Fee, and other Lands moe,
Of Edward; if to London he would go.
Thus they accorded and to London went,
Which pleas'd King Edward to his Hearts content.
Montieth on sight was bound to that fierce King,
In Scotland to assist him, in each Thing.
Then both return'd no longer there did wait,
Pox on their nasty Snouts for Villains great.
For the Montieth told Edward every Thing,
And that the Scots designed Bruce for King.
Within the Space I think of Forty Days,
King Edward did a swinging Army raise.
To Scotland march'd and no Resistance fand,
VVere none that Time that could his Force withstand.
All the Scots Forts, and Castles, in a Word,
He got without a single Stroke of Sword.
So Fierce, so Cruel, was this King and bold,
The noble Lords that would not of him hold,
To English Prisons he did quickly send,
Where good Sir William Douglas made his End.
The Earl Thomas Lord of Murray then,
And the Lord Frazer Two brave Noblemen:
With Hugh the Hay and many Nobles moe,
With Villain Vallange did for England go.
Seaton, and Lauder, in the Bass did dwell,
And Lundie, that could act his Part full well.
The Earl Malcolm, and the Campbel brave,
Bute as their Place of Refuge taken have.
Ramsay and Ruthven both fled to the North.
Unto their Cousin the Lord of Fillorth.
He past with them thro' Murray Land outright,
And there they found a Gen'rous worthy Knight
Clement to Name, who ever still had been.
Against the Suthron, valiant, stout and keen.
He led those Lords to Ross with greatest care,
And at Stockfoord a Strength he builded there.
Good Adam Wallace Craigy, Boyd, those Three,
Fled all to Arran, one Night by the Sea.
Into Dunbar, Corspatrick dwelt at will,
But pay'd his Fewty to King Edward still.
Lord Abernethy, Soulis and Cummine als,
And John of Lorn, that long Time had been false.
The Lord of Brechin, many other moe,
To Edward's Peace, for Gifts did frankly go.
Then do the Lords and others send Express,
From Bute to Wallace with a long Address.
“Our Hope our Health, our Governour most great,
“Our Chiftain true, and Help in every Strait.
“Our Lord and Love, thy Absence does us grieve,
“For God's Sake come, and once more us relieve,
“And take the Crown, for we protest and swear,
We'll not consent that Edward shall it wear.
This Writ he got, which vex'd him in his Mind,
Tho' then an Answer he did not incline.
By this King Edward in Lord York his Hand,
From Tay to Dee had lodg'd the sole Command.
For's Father's sake and good Sire's, this was giv'n,
Who both were kill'd; by Wallace, at Kincleven
Lord Bewmont, to command the North was sent.
And then from Perth Edward to Stirling went
The Lord of Clifford who had Douglasdale,
Was Rider made of the South Marches hail.
All Galloway the Cummine got in Hand,
For such a Rogue too good and large a Land.
The Bishop of St. Andrews, Lambertoun,
At this Time kept the Douglas of Renown.
To whom the Bishop great Affection bore,
But durst not show't when Suthron were before.
Yet made he Douglas on a Day to go,
With him to Stirling 'cause he lov'd him so.
Where from King Edward (tho' it prov'd in vain,)
He begg'd the Douglas Land to hin again.
Who when he knew him Douglass Son to be,
Swore by St. George, no Land he's get from me.
His Father fought against my Crown alway
For which he in my Prison lies this Day.
No other Answer there the Bishop got,
Because the Douglas was so true a Scot.
He gave the Merse to Soullis that Limmer Lown.
And made him Captain too of Berwick Town,
When Stirling Castle Oliphant resign'd,
He thought, that Writ would surely Edward bind:
But O! such horrid Treatment and absurd
He violate his Faith, and broke his Word:
Sent him to England, to a Prison strong,
In Misery where he continu'd long.
When Edward had divided Scotland broad
Away in Triumph the Usurper rode.
VVith him was Cummine, that sweet dainty Dear,
VVho whisper'd softly in the Bruce's Ear:
If you'll keep Counsel, I'll unto you show,
What you before perhaps did never know.
Say on said Bruce, what you reveal to me,
I promise for my Part, conceal'd shall be,
Then said Lord Cummine, Sir this is the Thing,
O'er this Realm you should be righteous King.
It's true said Bruce, but tho' I Righteous be,
This is not now a proper Time for me.
At present I'm in Edward's Hands, and loath,
To break with him, and violate my Oath.
Yet tho' he promis'd back this Land to me,
Pray do not you and all the Nation see,
How he divides and deals my Heritage,
To Suthron some, and some for Traytors Wage.
My Lordships Cummine said, I'll lay you down,
If you'll resign your Title to the Crown.
Or I shall help you with my Pow'r and Might,
But Bruce reply'd, I will not sell my Right.
Yet tell me what's the Lordship thou doest crave
Which for thy Help, I promise thou shall have.
Pray leave yon King said Cummine craftily,
For Edward hath all Galloway given to me.
And Soullis my Nephew, Berwick does Command,
VVe both shall follow you with Heart and Hand.
My other Nephew a great Man of Might,
The Lord of Lorn will help you to your Right.
My Nephew Third, Barron of Brichen bold,
Shall rise with us, thus I my Tale have told.
Then said the Bruce it were a lucky Chance,
Could we get Wallace back again from France.
This Kingdom he redeem might yet once more,
VVe're too long Strangers, which I rue full sore.
This with the Cummine did not well go down.
For he himself an Eye had to the Crown.
Yet that same Night they did compleat the Band,
And seal'd the same most fairly with their Hand.
This Paper Bruce left with the Cummine there,
Then with King Edward did to England fare.
And did remain untill it was made known,
Three Years and more before he claim'd his own.
Some thinks that Cummine did disclose the Thing
Because his VVife was Cousin to the King.
But had the Bruce gone to St. Johnstoun Town,
By whole Assent he had receiv'd the Crown:
And then he might have execute the Law
'Gainst Cummine, and keep'd all such Rogues in Aw.

The Twelfth BOOK OF Sir William Wallace.

CHAP. I. How WALLACE conquer'd the Land of Guyen and was made Lord thereof.

CHAP. II. How WALLACE killed the Two French Champions.

With the French King did dwell,
Two Champions great,
Who mortally did the Scots Hero hate.
Express'd themselves in most Satyrick Joke,
And with Disdain 'gainst Scotland always spoke.
Which fired our brave Champion very soon,
With him such Language would not well go down.
This verifies the Proverb we may see,
Two of a Trade in one Place ne'er agree.
Save in the Case, of these French Champions, who,
Linked in others Arms did always go.
At length it so fell out, and chanc'd that they,
VVere all Three left upon a certain Day.
Themselves alone, discoursing in a Hall,
Where they no Weapons us'd to wear at all,
There did the Champions talk of Scotland long
With great Contempt, which Wallace said was wrong.
Since both our Nations live in Friendship great
And firm Alliance, what means all this Hate.
Did we not help you lately in your Need,
We do deserve good Words, for our good Deeds.
What would you say of the Proud Suthron Foe,
When of your Friends you talk at Random so.
With slighting Words in their own Language they
Disdainfully replyed, and did say:
The Suthron are our Foes we grant and own,
But Scots for Falshood ev'ry where are known.
At which good Wallace was inraged so.
One of the Champions got a fearfull Blow,
Which foundred the proud Coxcomb where he stood,
Made Mouth and Nose gush out in Streams of Blood.
The other struck at Wallace in great hast,
Not doubting but his Friend was now deceas'd.
Whom Wallace gripp'd, fo fast and wondrous sore
His Sp'rit departed and he ne'er spake more.
The first arose and smote at Wallace fast,
But their Death Strokes he gave them both at last.
Upon a Pillar he dash'd out their Brains,
And said, let them take that up for their Pains.
What Devil ail'd the Carlos, they're to blame,
It would been long e'er I had troubled them.
Unto themselves they only owe their Paiks,
If they have won, let them take up their Staiks.
And let all others learn when they are young,
Strictly to bridle the unruly Tongue.
Many great Lords of the first Rank in France,
Were much displeas'd at this unlucky Chance
But the good King who knew the Story all,
Did wave the Thing and kindly let it fall.
And did exoner Wallace the same Day.
So after that no Man had ought to say.
Nor once durst give him, but a Saucie look,
Or yet play bo, unto his Blanket Nook.

CHAP III. How WALLACE killed the Lyon.

The King of France by no Means does neglect,
To put on Wallace Marks of great Respect.
For many Battles had he fought and won,
And for the King, great Fates and Service done.
Had Guyen Land from Suthron Foes redeem'd.
And was a mighty Conqueror esteem'd.
Which gall'd the Courtiers, almost put them mad.
That he was in such Estimation had.
And 'cause he had the Two French Champions kill'd,
Were with Envy great Spite and Malice fill'd.
For plainly they discover'd now and saw,
It was the King protect'd him from the Law.
For which Two Squires hellishly do plot,
How to destroy the brave Heroïck Scot.
Who near Relations were as you must know,
Unto the late deceased Champions Two.
And in this Manner do they undertake,
The Wallace brave a Sacrifice to make.
The King a cruel Lyon had, which scarce
Could be govern'd, was so exceeding fierce.
Which the Two Squires, knowing by and by.
Came to the King and forg'd a cursed Lie.
This Scot said they his Bragg and Boast doth make,
And plainly says that he will undertake
To fight your Lyon, if you'll freely give,
Him your Allowance, Liberty, and Leave.
This he desired us of you to ask,
We'er sure he'll have a most difficult Task.
To which with great Concern reply'd the King,
I'm sorry he desires such a Thing.
Yet I will not deny what e'er may chance,
The Favour that he'll ask me while in France.
Gladly away they went to Wallace, where,
Like Rogues they counterfit the Story there.
VVallace said they, the King Commands that you
Will fight his Lyon without more ado.
Wallace replys, what ever is his will,
Unto my Pow'r most gladly I'll fulfill.
Then to the King did instantly repair.
A Lord at Court when he saw Wallace there
Most foolishly, ask'd him if he durst fight
With the fierce Lyon, who reply'd on Sight.
Yes truely if the King would have it so,
Or with your self, I fear none of the Two.
Let Cowards from Kings Courts be all debar'd,
I may be worsted, but shall ne'er be dar'd.
So long's my Nostrils any Breath remains,
Or Scottish Blood does circle in my Veins.
Like a true Scot I'll fight and scorn to fly,
For why, I know that Man is born to dye,
Then by the King in short it granted was,
That Wallace might unto the Lyon pass.
Yet all this Time knew nothing of the Plot,
So deeply laid against the Noble Scot.
Nor in the Matter further did enquire,
Thinking it was good Wallace own Desire.
Mean Time of him so Tender was the King,
He order'd Harness quickly there to bring.
No Wallace said, I leave that to the Field,
Almighty God shall only be my Shield,
Since this is but a Beast and not a Man,
With what I have, I'll fight him as I can.
And will encounter single as I goe,
This strong rapacious, cruel savage Foe.
About one Hand he did his Mantle wrap,
And in the other did his broad Sword clap.
Then briskly without any furder stay,
Came to the Place where the fierce Lyon lay.
Who ramping rose against him where he stood,
Dreadfully roar'd, expecting present Blood,
Then Wallace drew a Stroke from Neck to Heel,
With his good Sword made of the burnish'd Steel,
And gave the Lyon such a dreadful Blow,
As cut his Body cliverly in two.
Then to the King he call'd aloud in Ire,
Pray Sir said he, is this your whole Desire?
Thus to expose me to the Rage and Will,
Of your fierce Lyon, have you more to kill?
Cause bring them forth, such Beasts since I must quell,
I will obey, so long's I with you dwell.
But now of France for ever I take leave,
Some greater Action I may soon atchieve.
At Shemon, Sir, I thought the other Year,
You would have other Bus'ness for me here.
Than fight a cruel savage Beast, wherefore,
To Ancient Scotland I'll return once more.
The King perceiving Wallace in a Fire,
Meekly reply'd it was your own Desire.
Else by the Faith of a most Christian King,
I never would allow of such a Thing.
For Men of Honour ask'd it in your Name,
So you or they are only for to blame.
Wallace reply'd I vow to the great God,
This seems to me a Thing both Strange and Odd
By all that's Good no higher can be sworn,
I know no more on't, than the Child unborn.
Of Honour sure I have a better Taste,
Than to be proud to sight a savage Beast.
This is a Trick devis'd by some of those,
Who are my secret and Malicious Foes.
The King conceiving there was Falshood wrought,
Caus'd both the Squires quickly to be brought:
Who when they came, the Crime could not deny:
But plainly did confess the Treachery.
For which, and other must ungodly Deeds,
The King commanded to strike off their Heads.
Thus came the Squires to their fatal End,
As did the Champions, to all Men be't kend.
The Champions first, for their Disdain and Flout
At Scotland, justly got their Brains beat out.
The Squires next, for Malice and Envy,
Did lose their Heads and most deservedly.
For our Instruction then, we may reflect.
Nothing from Justice Villains can protect.
Each Rogue, altho' with Nick he should combine:
Shall be discov'red either soon or syne.
And may be certain of a Rogue's Reward,
Vertue and Honour who does not Regard,
As in the sacred Scriptures we may read,
But to my Purpose further I proceed.
When Wallace saw the Court envy'd him so,
To Scotland then he purposed to go:
To aid his Country, and to take his Chance,
Despising all the Wealth he had in France.
Once more his Native Land for to relieve,
Which Suthron Foes did now afflict and grieve.
And to its pristine Freedom it restore,
Or else he vow'd that he should dy therefore.
The King perceiving Wallace that Way bent,
Gave him the Letter that was lately sent.
From the Scots Lords, which he read and perus'd,
Then told the King he must have him excus'd.
For he in France no longer could remain,
But must return to Scotland back again.
Since that his Country was distressed so,
Being invaded by the Suthron Foe.
But to abridge my Story and be short,
Wallace takes leave of King and all the Court.
At which the King did sorrowful appear,
And to the Chamber quickly did retire.
Jewels and Gold he gave him in that Hour,
For to support his Honour and Grandeur.
But Lords and Ladies did lament and grieve,
And weeped sore when Wallace took his Leave,
No Man he took with him of Note, or Might.
To Scotland back, but Longoveil the Knight.
Who loved Wallace with so true a Heart,
What e'er befel, would never from him part,
Towards the Sluce in goodly Order past,
A Vessel got and made to Sea at last.
Eight Seamen had, as good as were alive,
And then at Tay did safely all arrive.

CHAP. IV. How WALLACE came again to Scotland, and The Battle of Elchock Park.

Wallace in silent Watches of the Night
Did land his Men, long time e'er it was Light.
And by good Luck, before the break of Day,
The Ship shear'd off, and safely got away,
From Earn's Mouth, to Elchok quickly then,
He march't with Eighteen stout brave valiant Men.
Who, when he had approached pretty near,
To Crawford's House his own Relation dear.
In the back-side, a Window there did find,
Thro' which he called for his Cousin kind
Who when he knew that it was Wallace wight
Did not delay but came to him on Sight.
Embrac'd and kiss'd you may be very sure,
It was a blythsome, glad and joyfull Hour.
How to dispose of Wallace and his Men,
Was the next Point to be considered then.
How to secure them, till they got some Rest,
And were with Meat and Drink and Sleep refresh't
In a great Mow of Corn he them did darn,
Most cunningly within a spacious Barn.
On the North-Side a private Hole was wrought,
Thro' which they had all due Provision brought.
For Bed and Board nothing they lack'd at all,
The Time they lodg'd within that threshing Hall.
In their Corn-Castle most securely dwelt,
For several Days, and no Disturbance felt.
Till Meat fell short unto the honest Core,
Then to St. Johnstoun, Crawford went for more.
Where subtile Suthron Foes most cunningly,
Took notice what Provision he did buy.
And thought the Quantity a great deal more,
Then he was wont to buy in Times before.
For which immediatly they him suspect,
And honest Crawford's gripped by the Neck.
Where Brevi manu without any Shade
Of Law, or Justice, he's in Prison laid.
What Guests has thou said one, and for who's Sake
Does thou so mighty great Provision make
Crawford reply'd, Sir, I have ne'er a Guest,
All this is only for a kirking Feast.
But it was dreaded and alleg'd by some,
That Wallace, he from France was lately come.
And that they might know whether it was true,
Most subtilly devise what's next to do.
Set's Crawford free, and in good Harness then,
Do quickly put Eight Hundred chosen Men.
And at a due convenient Distance, from
Good honest Crawford, they do Dog him Home.
Whom when good Wallace saw, he did exclaim
Against his Conduct, said, he was to blame.
Who did expose himself so much unto,
The cunning Notice of the Suthron Foe.
In sleep this Night, by Vision I was told,
That thou had me unto the Suthron sold.
Sir, that shall be the last Thing I'll attempt,
My Neck has not such itching after Hemp.
Black be their Cast great Rogues to say no more,
Their Generation all I do abhore.
Yea, for my Country, since I went away,
I did expect my dearest Blood should pay,
And that I should no doubt a Martyr been,
And never more the Scottish Hero seen.
The Prison strong, and cruel, where I lay,
Will testify the Truth of what I say.
Quickly get up, and take you to the Fields,
I greatly fear the Rogues are at my Heels.
I'll give you all Assistance that I can;
For I my self shall be the Twentieth Man.
The worthy Scots got up, with merry speed,
Unto their Arms, and were not slack indeed.
Then suddenly, the Suthron all appear,
Eight Hundred Men in Armour bright and clear.
And on their Head was Butler that young Knight,
To Twenty Men a formidable Sight.
When Wallace saw, his Number was so few,
He from the Plains to Elchok Park withdrew.
Where he a certain sort of Pass espy'd,
Which nat'rally was so well fortify'd,
With great and closs grown Hollin, on each Hand,
As might the Suthron's first Attack withstand.
Great long tall Trees across he there did lay.
Then to his Men couragiously did say:
The Wood is thick, tho' small in breadth and length,
Had we but Meat enough, we'd keep the Strength.
Mean Time let us go on with Heart and Hand,
And bravely fight so long as we can stand:
For our old native Country, valiantly,
Come let us to it either do or die.
Before they gain the Pass, I'm much inclin'd,
To lay some of their Bellies to the Wind.
By this young Butler, Eager, Keen, and Crouss,
With all his Men surrounded Crawford's House:
But came too late as he himself did own,
He got the Nest but all the Birds were flown.
Poor Crawford's loving Wise they seiz'd anon,
And ask'd at her what way the Scots were gone.
She would not tell, for Boast, nor yet Reward,
Then Butler said too long thou hast been spar'd.
And caused build a great prodigious Fire,
Then Swore an Oath in horrid Wrath and Ire,
That he would burn her quick, Flesh, Blood and Bone,
If she conceal'd what way the Scots were gone.
Pray hold thy Hand said Wallace, do not so,
For here I am, I own my self thy Foe.
VVould thou Torment an honest sakeless VVife,
Come forth to me and we shall end the Strife.
It were great Sin to kill the Female Scot.
Art thou a Christian, tell me, yea, or not,
In all my Victories I here declare,
Priests, Women, Children, always lib'rat were.
When Butler had good Wallace fairly seen,
And that he was alone upon the Green;
He threw his Face, sometime his Lip did bite,
His Bosom swell'd with Venom and with Spite:
It was no Wonder, for to tell you plain,
Wallace had both his Dad, and good Sire slain.
The Suthron then fiercely march up at length,
And Wallace he retir'd unto his Strength.
Most hardily the Englishmen began
Attacked sore, with many a Gallant Man.
But Scots within did make a strong Defence,
And Suthron Foes were soon repuls'd from thence.
Who, at first Entry, Fifteen Men had kill'd
With English Corps the Pass was almost fill'd.
At which they all retire a litle back,
In Order to another fresh Attack.
Wallace beheld, and did distinctly see,
Butler the Knight divide his Men in Three.
Yon Knight said he, in War is so expert,
And has it so engraven on his Heart,
That he unto a very Point does know,
Each Stratagem, and nice Punctilio.
For by the Disposition of his Men,
I know for certain that he does intend,
So soon as he with his fresh Men comes back,
Us in Three different Places to attack.
A Brisk and brave Defence, then let us make,
Dear Longoveil thou Six with thee shall take.
As many with good Crawford here, shall go,
And Five with me to stop the cruel Foe.
In Three Divisions march the English Sparks,
Butler's Divisions Wallace nicely marks.
To the old Pass without all Dispute more
They march, and do attack it very sore.
Design'dly Wallace let some Suthron in,
But to get out the Way, could never find.
The first Seven Men that marched in the Front.
When they got in look'd most confounded blunt:
Wallace's Five, each one a Fellow slew,
And Wallace Two, then bad the Seven adue.
Butler was next, no further he durst pierce,
But did retire, he saw the Scots so fierce.
Good Longoveil and Crawford, fought so sore,
That Time the Suthron sallied them no more.
By this the Stars appeared in their Sight.
Then suddenly approach'd the darksome Night,
Butler the Watches set, to Supper went;
But grieved that he, his Time had so ill spent
Mean Time he eats a very plenteous Meal,
Of good Provisions, Bread and English Ale.
While the brave Wallace, nothing had at all,
But Adam's Ale which we cold Water call.
Yet with a cheerfull Countenance could say,
Chear up my Lads it is not long to Day.
What tho' we all, should fast one single Night,
We fast for Honour and for Scotland's Right.
Perhaps our Foes, that now so fully feed,
The Morrow's Night shall no more Victuals need.
The Earl York who Perth with Troups did sill,
Commanded Butler to continue still.
At Elchock Park, and he would Reinforce,
Him with a fresh Supply of Foot and Horse.
And that he would himself in Person come,
With Sound of Trumpet and with Beat of Drum.
Couragious York upon my Word well spoke
Was he in Earnest pray, or but in Joke.
To offer such a Reinforcement then,
Unto Eight Hundred, against Twenty Men.
This sure must add much to his Lordship's Praise,
And blaze his Character in after Days.
But Butler fain would have the Hero yeild,
Before that York appear'd upon the Field.
That he himself might have the Praise alone,
Thanks to you Butler, Fourty Men to One.
Then to the Park, the English Knight draws near,
And calls on Wallace asking him what Chear.
Good Chear said Wallace, you may take my Word,
Then laid his Hand upon his awfull Sword.
Here is the Blade that still keeps up my Heart,
And many a Time has made the Suthron smart.
With many a bloody Wound, both wide and deep,
And may do so this Day before I sleep.
Well said the Butler that is not my Fear,
But I would talk a Moment with thee here.
Content said Wallace, for a little Hire,
I will not stand to grant thee thy Desire.
Does thou not sore repent said Butler now,
That thou my Father and my Good-Sire slew.
No Wallace said, tho' it were thy whole Kin,
To kill my Foes I never thought it Sin.
Come they my Way I'll do the best I can,
As GOD me save to kill them every Man.
And hope I shall a good Occasion have,
VVith these Two Hands to send thee to thy Grave.
That is not likely said the Butler now,
My Prisoner I'll make thee first I trow.
Mean Time what I desire I pray thee grant,
And what I promised thou shalt not want.
With all my Heart said Wallace, every Bit,
If Safety and true Honour will permit.
Then Butler said, what Profit wilt thou reap
Here to abide, since thou cannot escape.
And since thou sees it may not better be,
Leave off thy Folly, yeild they self to me
With frowning Face and mighty great Disdain,
The Scottish Hero did reply again.
So great a Fool I never hope to prove,
I'll yield to none but the great GOD above.
To him each Day, Twice I do yield and bow,
But little Mushrom Knight pray what art thou?
Bids yield to thee, for all thy Haste and Heat,
Faith that is not what I design as yet.
And tho' we be but Twenty Scots what then?
I mock thee much and thy Eight Hundred Men.
To worship GOD said Butler, thou does well,
And to thy Maker Twice a Day to kneel.
Yet does thou Folly, and no Conduct show,
When with my Men thou art inviron'd so,
And closs surrounded, no way to get out,
Thus to debate, tho' thou were ne'er so stout.
Therefore come forth and make no more ado,
Thou'll find my Counsel, wholsome Words and true.
With great Disdain Wallace he smil'd, and leugh,
And answ'ring said, Sir you have talk'd enough.
For tho' all England had the contrair Sworn,
I'll cut my Passage thro' you once the Morn.
Or else this Night, believe me what I say,
This shall be done before Nine of the Day.
Butler was careful then, when it grew Dark.
To plant his Watches all around the Park.
There Wallace stay'd, no ways alarm'd or fear'd,
Until the twinkling Morning Star appear'd.
A Rocky Mist fell down at break of Day,
Then thought he fit to make the best o's Way.
Who, when he had made strict Search round about,
Found a convenient Place, and then broke out.
Then hastened to the Place where Butler lay,
And round about him did great Numbers slay,
Most nobly fought each Gallant worthy Scot,
But Crawford he was wounded on the Spot.
Whom in a Moment Wallace did rescue,
Then at one Stroke he the bold Butler slew.
Got Crawford up in his Two Arms e'er long
And bravely did Defend him in the Throng.
About him made great Room where he did stand,
And cut Five Suthron down with his own Hand.
Bore Crawford out, in spite of all were round,
Nine Aikers breadth before he set him down.
The Suthron finding Butler to be dead,
And Thirty more, for which was no Remead,
Do view the Corps, what could the Men do more,
And then condole their Loss exceeding sore.
Wallace by this was quite out of their Sight,
The Mist had so eclipsed all the Light.
At which he smil'd and said to Longoveil,
Upon my Word this Mist assists us well.
Then let us quickly March to Methven Wood,
Where we shall get Provision very good.
We fasted have so long, in Truth I trow,
It's almost Time we had our Breakfast now.
But by the Time they had got to the Hight,
The Sun display'd his Beams, and radiant Light.
By which they did perceive immediatly,
Thirty and Four Men, in a Company,
Then said good Wallace, be they Friend or Foe,
Wee'l meet them, since their Number is no moe.
When they approach'd, a noble Knight it was
And a true trusty Friend Sir Hugh Dundass.
With him a prudent Knight, brave Sir John Scot,
Who in Strathern was then a Man of Note.
And with Dundass's Sister led his Life,
A verteous Lady and a loving Wife.
They and their Men, the Road were passing on,
To pay their Fewty to the Suthron.
Because the Lord of Brechin's strict Command,
Had forc'd them basely, thus to hold their Land.
Who when they saw, that it was Wallace wight,
Gave Thanks to GOD for that blyth welcome Sight.
Glad of the Succour he had sent them there,
To Methven Wood with joyful Hearts repair.
Where they refresh'd themselves to their own Mind.
With such Provisions as they there could find.
Then were they hearty, cliver, brave, and tight,
And unto Birnane Wood march'd all at Night.
There they with Ruthven met in a short Space,
Who long had liv'd an out-Law in that Place.
From thence they march, and unto Athol go,
Where Eatables were scarce, and Friends also.
Then pass to Lorn, as little found they there,
Of Wild, and Tame, that Land was stripped bare.
Wherefore they most Religiously anon,
Address the Heav'ns, and make a piteous Moan.
Good Sir John Scot said, he would rather dye
And starve with Hunger, then with Infamy.
Mo live a Rogue, or let himself be bound,
A slavish Subject to King Edward's Crown.
Wallace his own Distress with Pience bore,
But for the Rest he groan'd, and grieved sore.
Of all this Want said he, I am the Cause,
Yet since it is for Scotland's Rights and Laws.
That thus we suffer, by the Divine will,
Let none of us once grudge or take it ill.
For he that made us by his mighty Pow'r,
Can feed us by his Providence I'm sure,
With him is neither found Deceit, nor Guile,
Stay here till I remove a little while.
In a short Space I shall return again,
Then walked he o'er a Hill unto the Plain.
VVhere in a Forrest underneath an Oak,
He sat him down, with Spirit almost broke.
His Sword and Bow, he leaned to a Tree,
In Anguish great then on his Face sell he.
Ah VVretch! said he, that ne'er could be content.
VVith all the VVealth that GOD unto thee sent.
The Lordships great, long since to thee assign'd,
Could never please thy fierce unstable Mind.
Thy willfull VVill to make thy Nation free,
Thro' God's Permission's brought this VVoe to thee,
For worthier by far than ever I,
VVith Hunger now are like to starve and dy.
O GOD I pray, relieve them of their Pain,
And let not this my Prayer be in vain.
Then after Sighs and Meditation deep,
He slumber'd softly and did fall asleep.
Five Bloody Rascals boldly with one Breath
Had bound themselves under the pain of Death,
To take the VVallace wight, dead or alive,
Which prov'd their Ruin, for Old Nick did drive.
Three of the base Assassins, English were,
Scottish vile Villains were the other Pair,
Three Days before, they travell'd had about
Like bloody Hounds to find the Hero out.
With them a Boy that us'd to carry Meat,
Among the Hills and Rocky Mountains great.
When Wallace did retire from his brave Men
The Rogues most privatly were lurking then.
Saw his Departure, dog'd him in his Way,
And knew the Place exactly where he lay.
In Covert of the Rocks they pass and peep,
And plainly did perceive him fall asleep.
Near to his Person then the Rogues aproach,
Thinking they had him fast within their Lotch
And then the Blood-Hounds put it to the Vote,
To take alive or kill him on the Spot.
One said could we get him but safe to Perth,
It were our greatest Honour upon Earth
His Sword and Bow no Safety more affords.
Then let us tye and bind him fast with Cords.
This we may do I'm sure at our own will,
And lead him by the backside of yon Hill.
So that his Men shall nothing thereof know,
Content said they, then all to work they go.
And thought thro' Force, him Prisoner to make,
But brought to Bed soon of a grand Mistake.
For when they gripp'd him, a sour Face he made,
What is the Matter then he boldly said.
About he turn'd him, out his Arms he threw,
And with his Fists made them both Black and Blue.
The fiercest and the stoutest Man took he,
And dash'd his Brains all out against a Tree.
Then with unparalelled Strength arose,
In spite of his Four other bloody Foes.
And boldly seized the dead Fellow's Sword,
VVherewith he made sound Payment on my Word
Another Suthron at a single Stroke,
He hewed down before he left the Oak.
The other Three sought, but full soon were glad,
To take them to their Heels, and so they fled.
But to escape they all in vain did strive,
None could do so on Foot, from him alive.
Then following fast their nimble speed he try'd,
Gave them their mortal Wound, whereof they dy'd.
As he returned from the Rogues with Joy
He met with, and said to the Servant Boy.
VVhat does thou here? who with a Pale dead Face,
Fell on his Knees, and humbly asked Grace.
I little have to do indeed said he,
I lately hired was, for Meat and Fee.
VVith yon Five Men, had I known their Design,
Such Service ne'er had entered in my Mind.
What's that thou carriest Boy? Sir it is Meat,
Then come along with me it's Time to eat.
Meat at this Time is better far than Gold,
Its VVorth at present cannot well be told:
Then with a chearfull merry Heart and glad,
Went to his Men who all were quickly fed,
With good rost Meat, plenty of Bread and Cheese,
And did their Strength recover by Degrees.
Thus Fifty Four refresh'd were, who before,
Had fasted full Three Days and somewhat more.
O mighty Miracle to see (GOD knows)
A sleeping Man surrounded by his Foes,
Ly open to their Fury on the Field,
All VVeaponless, no Helmet, Sword nor Shield,
Exposed thus unto their bar'brous will,
And yet for all their VVrath no Pow'r to kill.
Fifty and Four with Hunger almost starv'd,
And yet from Sword, and Famine both preserv'd.
VVhen all had fully ate, and drank also,
How came this Meat said they, pray let us know.
Then where the bloody Rognes all dead did ly
He led them, and disclos'd the Mystery:
Fy Sir said they, a Chiftain should beware,
And not expose himself by half so far,
To which he answer'd in a merry Mood,
No Matter, since the Success has been good.
But now said he let us consider soon,
VVhat is the proper Thing next to be done.
Since we are blest with such Deliv'rance great,
From starving Hunger in our pinching Strait,
And I from the deceitfull bloody Foe,
Let's thank good Fate and to the Lowlands go.
Mean Time pray little Boy, does thou know where,
We'll get Provisions till we once come there.
To which he meekly answered again,
No Sir, untill we come to Rannach Plain.
There with that Lord, great plenty you shall find,
He serves King Edward, tho' against his Mind.
Then I'll be Guide said Wallace to the Sheill.
I know the Place my self exactly well.
Thro' that wild Land he led them brave and right
And to the Rannach brought them safe at Night.
Where they the Watch did seize that was a Scot,
On which account, they spar'd and kill'd him not
Who told them the Condition of the Place,
Which they commanded in a little Space.
The Gate they won for Castle they had none,
But a thick Mud-Wall, without Slime or Stone.
Wallace in hast struck up the Chamber Door,
Made it in Peices lye upon the Floor.
Then all in fear from sleep start suddenly,
The Lord gets up and does for Mercy cry.
But when he knew that it was Wallace wight
Most heartily he thank'd the GOD of Might.
I was a true Man all my Life untill
I vanquish'd was by Suthron, 'gainst my will.
All Scots we are, that now before you stand,
And ready to obey what you command.
Since for this Land, such great Things you have done,
What Scots Man dare hold his Face to the Sun.
And yet resist you in so good a Cause,
Defending of our Liberty and Laws:
If any one be found that is so bad,
I'm very sure, that Fellow's worse than Mad.
Then all did promise with uplifted Hands,
Most frankly to obey his just Commands
And the more fully to confirm the Thing,
Did swear Allegiance to their righteous King.
Then merrily went all to Meat I trow,
No wonder, for the Case was alter'd now,
This Lord with mighty Pleasure also told,
He had Three Sons all Valiant stout and bold;
And Twenty of his own near Kins-Men more,
As good as ever Sword or Target bore:
Ready to serve him both with Heart and Hand,
For the true Honour of their King and Land.
To Heav'n then Wallace turning up his Eye,
I Thank thee O my GOD for this Suply.
Then did they pass the Day as seemed best,
At Night set Watches and went all to Rest.
But on the Morrow when the Day did peep,
Wallace arose fully refresh'd with Sleep.
And to the Fields took all his Men at length;
To know what was his perfect real Strength.
There did he muster all his little Force,
And thanked GOD that Matters were not worse.
Then to his Men he Champion-like did say,
The Royal Banner let us now display.
For under it most faithfully we'll fight,
In the defence of brave old Scotland's Right.
Our selves no longer we'll abscond and hide,
Friends will flock to us now on every Side.
They took such Horses as they there could find,
Then to Dunkel march'd all with cheerfull Mind.
The English Bishop to St. Johnstoun hasts,
Wallace was none of his beloved Guests.
The Scots soon took the Place and in a Word
Put all the Suthron quickly to the Sword.
On good Provisions then did nobly fare,
Which the Lord Bishop for himself brought there.
Silver and Gold, fine Jewels there they got,
All that their Heart could wish they wanted not.
Five Days rejoicing, merrily they spent,
And on the Sixth VVallace to Council went.
We have not Men enough, said he, you know
Perth to invest, therefore we'll North-ward go.
In Ross our Friends have made a Strength I'm told,
Hear they of us they'll come like Warriours bold.
Good Bishop Sinclar is in Bute also,
Who when he hears the News, will not be slow.
To come and take his Fate with cheerfull Heart,
He never yet did fail to act his Part.
The Westland Men when warn'd we'll get them all,
I never yet did know them sit my call.
For like brave Men, this Region they throughout,
Have been with me, at many a bloody Bout.
The Council then with one Voice did conclude,
As he propos'd, for all was very good.
They mount their Horses, march without delay,
The Englishmen kep't all out of their Way.
Those that possest the Strengths stay'd within Doors
The Rest of them crep't close in Holes and Bores
For all began to flee and scatter, from
The very Time they heard he was come Home.
Then with an Army strong the Scots at last.
Most awfully thro' all the Kingdom past.
Strengths were deserted by the Suthron then,
And soon possessed by the Scotishmen.
Who in good Order now as could be seen,
Seven Thousand strong march all to Aberdeen.
But frighted Suthron post away in haste,
And leave the Town all desolate and waste.
In all the Land left nothing more or less,
Lord Bewmont took the Sea at Buchanness,
Clement the Knight of Ross, appeared then,
With a brave Company of Gallant Men.
Took in the House of Nairn, with that brave Core,
The Suthron Captain slew and many more-
From Buchan, and from Murray came annon,
Numbers of Scots, in quest of Bewmont gone.
Who missing him, to Wallace march on Sight,
Mongst whom was Sir John Ramsay that brave Knight.
Whom when he saw, with many others there,
That long ago his bold Companions were:
How pleas'd he was I scarcely can descrive,
But thought himself the happyest Man alive.
Thus he the Northern parts recover'd, and
Made good Men Judges over all that Land.
When this was done, that no Time might be lost;
March'd to St. Johnstoun straight with all his Host.

CHAP. V. The Sige of St. JOHNSTOUN.

Wallace the Town does here besiege in short,
And keeps a sturdy Guard, at ev'ry Port.
Where Bishop Sinclar came to him on Sight,
With cliver Lads from Bute all young and tight.
Lindsay, and Boyd, who did him ne'er beguile,
From Arran came and from the Rauchly Isle,
As did the Barron bold of great Renown,
Brave Adam Wallace, then of Richartoun.
In all the Road no Enemy durst be,
Some fled away by Land and some by Sea.
Seaton, and Lauder, and good Lundie now,
Came in a Barge, to his Assistance too.
And in the Haven did their Anchors cast,
Where they Two English Ships secured fast.
The one they burnt, the other loadned well,
With Warlike stores and sturdy Men in Steel.
To watch the Port, they strictly were oblig'd,
That Men nor Victuals, pass to the besieg'd.
From South, to North, the flying Suthron mourn,
Some left their Lives, in Pledge they would return.
The Suthron Bishop that fled from Dunkel,
To London rode and told all that befel.
Edward he sends for Aymer Vallange now,
And asks at him what he thought best to do.
Who like a Traitor answered, and said,
Doubtless he by a Friend must be betray'd:
Or by some of his Bone-Companions sold,
Who have best liking to the English Gold.
For which I shall my self to Scotland go,
And try the Treason, whither Yea or No.
King Edward therefore sign'd to him a Band.
That he would ratify and and firmly stand,
To whatsoever Bargain he would make,
This Vallange does the Treason undertake,
To Scotland comes, at Bothwel did arrive
To execute the Plot he did contrive.
Unto Sir John Monteith, express did send,
To come and speak with him at Rutherglen.
Who when he came, disclosed all his Mind.
And laid before Sir John the whole Design.
I know said he that you no Stranger are,
Unto the News of this new bloody War.
Which, if it be not soon put to a Stand,
Will prove destructive to our native Land.
Nothing but Blood and Rapine, we can see,
Which will our great Misfortoune always be.
So long as Wallace lives, who late and air,
Insults King Edward boldly every where.
The Country thus harrass'd on every Hand,
There's neither Trade, nor Culture in our Land.
Now good Sir John, if you'll advised be,
To take a Wholsome Counsel once from me.
It's in your Power to be an Earl now,
And to do service to your Country too.
I know you are for certain one of those,
In whom Sir William Wallace does repose.
Great Trust and Confidence in each respect,
O would you then but grip him by the Neck.
As Lords and Earls we might live and reign,
Under King Edward our most gracious King.
Fy said Monteith, it were a mighty Shame,
Yea, you, and I, shall both be much to blame,
If we betray a Man, who late and soon,
To King and Country hath such service done.
He's of our Nation, and our Forces all,
Both Governour, and Captain General.
For my part I declare, come Well or Wo,
I'll never condescend to treat him so.
Vallange reply'd if you but understood,
How great a shedder he's of Christian Blood.
You would not plead for him so much I'm sure,
But rather contribute to break his Pow'r.
Besides the King could he but end the Strife,
Has no Design to take away his Life,
But to confine him so as make him cease,
From War and not disturb the Common Peace.
This put Monteith unto a little stand,
Who wish'd that Wallace were in Edward's Hand
Providing always he his Life would spare,
And make all good that Vallange promis'd there.
When Vallange saw Monteith, thus in a muse,
Most cunningly his little Time did use,
Then in a Moment down he quickly told,
Three Thousand Pound of finest English Gold.
This you shall have, and Lennox at your Will,
If you the King's desire will now fulfill.
Then he who was brave Wallace Friend before,
The strong Temptation could resist no more,
But did resign his Honour, and himself,
To Act the Treason, for the love of Pelf.
Receiv'd the Gold and then was strictly bound,
To carry Wallace safe to English Gound.
And there to put him in the Suthron's Hand;
For which he should be Lord of Lennox Land.
This Vallange promis'd to him without fail,
Sign'd and confirm'd it with King Edward's Seal.
Thus part the Villains, Wallace Mortal Foes,
And Aymer Vallange straight to London goes.
The cursed Tydings he did quickly bring,
Of his good Success to the English King.
The Contract shows, told every Thing that past
And did obtain his gracious Thanks at last,
Which Melancholy Story makes me mourn,
But to St. Johnstoun Siege I now return.
Where Wallace lay besieging all that Time,
Not dreaming of the Treasonable Crime
Mean Time Five Hundred Suthron bold and stout,
Early one Morning briskly sally out.
At the South Port, against Dundass and Scot.
Where they got a Reception mighty hot.
The English fought it for a While, but then,
Retir'd with no less Loss, then Fourscore Men.
Yet tho' they were at that Time soundly beat,
They took the Knight Dundass in the Retreat.
Presented him before the Earl York,
Which put an End unto that Morning's Work.
The Knight Dundass nothing at all did find,
But what was Civil, and exceeding kind.
The Earl York so Mercifull was he,
Most gen'rously dismiss'd and set him free.
For which the grateful Wallace by and by
Return'd him hearty Thanks most Courteously.
Assuring him upon his Honour, that,
He would his kindness soon retaliat.
The Earl now of Fife, who had a Truce,
With Edward, but an honest Heart to Bruce,
Perceiving Wallace like a faithfull Leige,
To carry on the War, came to the Siege.
With him John Vallange who was Sherriff then,
Of Fife, and a brave Train of goodly Men.
Into the Ditch Faggots put very fast,
Around the Stakes, Heather and Hay, they cast.
With Trees and Earth, they made a Passage clear,
Then o'er the Walls do march quite void of Fear
The Suthron they, briskly resist again,
While at the Wall a Thousand Men were slain.
Couragiously, Wallace his Men leads on,
And hew'd down all before him every Bone.
Of Suthron Foes did dreadful havock make,
But sav'd the Earl for Dundass's Sake.
In Wax a Lyon on his Cloak did set,
As a safe Conduct when with Scots he met.
Gold in Abundance there he told him down,
And safely caus'd convoy him out of Town.
Women and Children freely he let pass,
As still before his gen'rous Custom was.
Then all the Country liv'd in peace and rest,
And with true Scots the Town was re-possest.
Thus having vanquish'd his proud Suthron Foes,
With cheerfull Heart straight to the South he goes.
Edward the Bruce, who had in Ireland been
The Year before, is now in Scotland seen.
With Fifty of his Mother's noble Kin,
Attacks Kircudbright boldly enters in.
And with those Fifty, for he had no more,
Most gallantly he vanquished Nine Score.
To Wigtoun next he and his Men are gone;
The Castle took, for it was left alone.
Where Wallace and his Men did not neglect,
To meet him with all humble due Respect.
Unto Lochmabane then most chearfully;
Marched that brave, and gallant Company.
Where Wallace like a true and faithfull Scot,
Resign'd Command to Edward and why not.
And promis'd that if Robert Bruce the King,
Did not come Home in Person for to reign,
He should in that Case certainly and soon,
Have the Imperial ancient Scotish Crown.
Prince Edward in Lochmabane tarry'd still,
And Wallace went to Cumnock with good will.
Then with his Friends he met at the Black Bog.
And with them drank a blyth and hearty Cog.
Unto King Edward News came reeking hot,
Of all the Victories that Wallace got,
And how he Scotland did again reduce,
And that he had received Edward Bruce.
The English Commons deeply swore and said,
That Scotland they would never more invade.
For that it was great Madness to go there,
If the Scots Champion Wallace living were.
Then to Monteith Edward wrote privily,
Told him the Time was now fast passing by.
Dispatch said he the Thing you took in Hand,
For which ye have my Gold and I your Band.
The false Monteith read o'er the Letter all,
And then in haste his Sister's Son did call.
To whom the Plot he did discover all,
And made him swear he would it not reveal.
On Wallace wait, said he, and frankly tell,
You would with him as a Domestick dwell.
Which if he grants, you must be very sure,
To watch him nicely and the very Hour
When all alone securely taking rest,
Give me a call, and then I'll do my best.
The Villain promis'd that it should be done,
Then gets himself in Wallace Service soon.
But the brave Wallace never had a Thought,
Of what the false Monteith against him wrought,
And he who now had Scotland Thrice set free.
Nothing design'd but lasting Peace to be.
For much fatigu'd with a long tedious War.
He thought it more Eligible by far,
To serve GOD and his King in his old Days,
That he in Heaven, might sing eternal Praise.

CHAP. VI. How WALLACE was betray'd by Sir. John Monteith, carry'd to England and martyr'd there

The following Story savouring of the superstitious Credulity of the People and deceitfull Cousenage of the Monks of these Times, we have notwithstanding insert, lest we should seem at our own Hands rashly to ommit any Thing that we found in our Copy; to the End we may be admonished to study Thankfullness to GOD, who hath now open'd our Eyes to see thro' the Mist wherewith these former Ages were blinded.

A Monk there was in Burie Abbay then,
The most Religous of that Sect of Men.
Another there of the same Order stood,
That knew his Life, Chast, Innocent and good.
The younger Monk, to know hid secrets fond,
Of the old Father did obtain a Bond.
That after Death he would return and tell,
What Things he knew concrning Heaven and Hell.
Whose Sp'rit removing from the World vain,
Did at the Time appointed come again
To the young curious Monk, in Figure bright,
Fully resembling that of Lanthern light.
A Fire Brand he in his Fore-Head bore,
Which did surprize the Monk, and fright him sore
Then said a Voice, GOD hath me granted Grace,
To keep the Promise I made in this Place,
Where art thou now, I thee Conjure to tell
Said the young Monk, whether in Heaven, or Hell.
In Purgatory said the Spirit where.
I must remain for half a Year and mair.
And after that shall have a Passage even,
That will Conduct, and lead me save to Heaven.
Yet unto thee I freely must declare,
Two yet alive shall be before me there.
The first of these if you would know him then,
Hath in his Life kill'd a great deal of Men.
Yet shall a Martyr dy on Wednesday next,
Which for that Purpose is the Day prefix't.
I fear he shall not have so good a Fate.
Said the young Monk, for GOD doth Slaughter hate.
It's VVallace said the Sp'rit pray understand,
That took a Just, and Righteous War in Hand:
For his own Country, 'gainst a cruel Foe.
Therefore to Heav'n he certainly must go.
Next a poor Priest to be commended much,
Who's Gratitude, and Thankfullness was such,
That tho' his Livings were but small, and mean.
Was satisfi'd and never did complain.
He certainly before me must also,
Unto the holy Heavenly Mansions go.
I am the Third by the Almighty's Grace,
Brother he said, shall go unto that Place.
At which Relation, said the curious Monk,
Tell I this Story Folks will call me drunk.
And tell me that I either Dream or Rave,
Then said the Sp'rit this Witness thou shall have.
The Bells shall ring in spite of earthly Pow'r,
That Day he's kill'd, the space of half an Hour.
Which came to pass a Thing both strange and odd,
Was publish'd, and believ'd, thro' Britain broad.
The Sp'rit departed and the Monk went Home,
But I proceed to Wallace Martyrdom.
Who by the armed Souldiers from his Bed,
Upon the fatal Wednesday sorth was led.
To be a Victim to the Southron's Rage,
Since nothing less their Fury could asswage.
Where meekly he casting his Eyes about,
Did for a Priest Religiously call out.
Which Edward did refuse, and with next Breath.
Discharg'd his Clergy all on pain of Death.
The Bishop then of Canterbury, broke
Out in a holy Passion and thus spoke.
Here I protest against such Wickedness,
In spite of thee O King I'll him Confess.
And if thro' Force thou stop me from this Thing,
I vow to GOD my righteous Heav'nly King.
O'er England all I shall thee Interdict,
And make it known thou art a Heritick.
The holy Sacrament I shall him give,
Then take thy choice to starve or let me live.
It were more Honour for thy Crown I say,
To Save his Life then thus to take't away
Thou all thy Life hast rung in sinfull Deed,
As shall be seen on thee or on thy Seed.
At which the King inrag'd commands to seize,
The holy Bishop, nothing else would please.
His Lords intreated he might not do so,
But for the Churches sake would let him go.
Each good Man thought the Bishop in the Right,
Who gravely walk'd to Wallace upon Sight.
Heard his Confession all unto the End,
And humbly did his Sp'rit to GOD commend.
Then took his leave, no longer did abide,
But to Westminster straight away did ride.
Thirty long Days poor Wallace cruelly
They bound and never did his Hands unty.
Then with a Chain unto an Oaken Stake,
Most barb'rously did fast the Victim make.
Next sent a Clerk to hear what he would say.
O fatal, cruel, bloody Wednesday.
Thou Scot said he, that so great wrong hast done,
Thou sees thy fatal Hour approacheth soon,
Thou should to Mind recal thy wretched Deeds.
And seriously once more tell o'er thy Beads.
For now perforce, thou here must quickly dy,
To whom the noble Martyr did reply;
You do not know, whither I've done amiss,
Yon worthy Bishop hath me promis'd Bliss.
Thy Rancor, Malice, and thy cruel Spite,
Shall ne'er my Courage, nor my Conscience smite
My Comfort is to know the VVay I go,
My Trouble, that, I'm here so long below.
Then said the Clerk, I wonder at thy skill,
Who might have had all Scotland at thy will
Providing that thou would thy Arms lay down
And hold that Kingdom of the English Crown,
Wallace reply'd, thou speaks a foolish Thing,
Had I got Home my own true righteous King,
Cold Death I should embrac'd, grievous, and grim,
Or else have made all England hold of him.
Intirely then it should been in his Will,
What honest Men to save, what Rogues to kill.
Well said the Clerk, I see thou wilt not grieve,
For thy great Sins so long as thou dost live.
Thou'st kill'd more Men than any in thy Time,
And yet repents not of that bloody Crime.
Methinks thou should confess each sinfull Thing.
And offer yet thy Service to our King.
At which the noble Champion Wallace smil'd,
And told the Clerk that he was all beguil'd.
I have I grant of Suthron slain a few,
But not the half of what I wish'd, I vow.
I mov'd no War, but to regain our own,
As unto GOD and all the World's known.
Therefore thy babling hold let me alone,
I in GOD's Name command thee to be gone.
At which a Sheriff, who did there attend,
The foolish railing Clark away did send.
Wallace about him from his Child-hood kept,
Where e'er he went whither he walk'd or slept.
A Psalter Book, which he beseech'd the Knight,
Lord Clifford, might be brought into his Sight.
Which done, he caus'd a Priest upon the Place.
To hold it open streight before his Face,
On which he look'd, sometimes his Eyes up cast,
Religiously unto his very last.
Then quickly came the Executioner who,
Gave him the fatal, and the Mortal blow.
This in Defence (that Hero ends his Days)
Of Scotland's Right, to his immortal Praise.
Who's valiant Acts, were all recorded fair,
Written in Latin by the famous Blair.
Who at that Time, the Champion did attend,
Was an Eye-Witness and his Chaplain then.
And after that as History does tell
Confirm'd by Sinclair, Bishop of Dunkel.

The Author of the History of the DOUGLASSES hath translated the foresaid Verses thus.

Envious Death who ruins all,
Hath wrought the sad lamented Fall.
Of Wallace, and no more remains
Of him, then what an Urn contains,
We Ashes for our Hero have,
He for his Armour a cold Grave;
He left the Earth too low a State,
And by his Acts o'ercame his Fate.
His Soul Death had not Power to kill,
His noble Deeds the World fill,
With lasting Trophies of his Name.
O! hadst thou Vertue lov'd or Fame,
Thou cou'dst not have insulted so
Over a Brave, betrayed Foe,
Edward, nor seen these Limbs expos'd,
To publick Shame, fit to be clos'd
As Relicks in an holy Shrine,
But now the Infamy is thine,
His End Crowns him with glorious Bays
And stains the Brightest of thy Praise.