men could cross it abreast. With his eyes
upon this bridge, Wallace posted the greater
part of his men among some rising grounds,
and waited calmly. When the English army
came up on the opposite bank of the river,
messengers were sent forward to offer terms.
Wallace sent them back with a defiance, in
the name of the freedom of Scotland. Some
of the officers of the Earl of Surrey in command
of the English, with their eyes also on
the bridge, advised him to be discreet and
not hasty. He, however, urged to immediate
battle by some other officers, and particularly
by CRESSINGHAM, King Edward's treasurer,
and a rash man, gave the word of command
to advance. One thousand English crossed
the bridge, two abreast; the Scottish troops
were as motionless as stone images. Two
thousand English crossed; three thousand,
four thousand, five. Not a feather, all this
time, had been seen to stir among the
Scottish bonnets. Now, they all fluttered.
"Forward, one party, to the foot of the
Bridge! " cried Wallace, " and let no more
English cross! The rest, down with me on
the five thousand who have come over, and
cut them all to pieces! " It was done, in the
sight of the whole remainder of the English
army, who could give no help. Cressingham
himself was killed, and the Scotch made whips
for their horses of his skin.

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

Another ROBERT BRUCE, the grandson of
him who had disputed the Scottish crown
with Baliol, was now in arms against the King
(that elder Bruce being dead), and also JOHN
COMYN, Baliol's nephew. These two young
men might agree with Bruce in opposing
Edward, but could agree in nothing else, as they
were rivals for the throne of Scotland. Probably
it was because they knew this, and
knew what troubles must arise even if they
could hope to get the better of the great
English King, that the principal Scottish
people applied to the Pope for his
interference. The Pope, on the principle of losing
nothing for want of trying to get it, very
coolly claimed that Scotland belonged to him;
but this was a little too much, and the
Parliament in a friendly manner told him so.

In the spring time of the year one thousand
three hundred and three, the King sent SIR
JOHN SEGRAVE whom he made Governor of
Scotland, with twenty thousand men, to reduce
the rebels. Sir John was not as careful as he
should have been, but encamped at Rosslyn,
near Edinburgh, with his army divided into
three parts. The Scottish forces saw their
advantage; fell on each part separately;
defeated each; and killed all the prisoners.
Then, came the King himself once more, as
soon as a great army could be raised; he
passed through the whole north of Scotland,
laying waste whatsoever came in his way;
and he took up his winter quarters at
Dunfermline. The Scottish cause now looked
so hopeless, that Comyn and the other nobles
made submission and received their pardons.
Wallace alone stood out. He was invited
to surrender, though on no distinct pledge
that his life should be spared; but he still
defied the ireful King, and lived among the
steep crags of the Highland glens, where the
eagles made their nests, and where the mounain
torrents roared, and the white snow was
deep, and the bitter winds blew round his
unsheltered head, as he lay, through many a
pitch-dark night, wrapped up in his plaid.
Nothing could break his spirit; nothing
could lower his courage; nothing could induce
him to forget or to forgive his country's
wrongs. Even when the Castle of Stirling,
which had long held out, was besieged by the
King with every kind of military engine then
in use; even when the lead upon cathedral
roofs was taken down to help to make them;
even when the King, though now an old man,
commanded in the siege as if he were a youth,
being so resolved to conquer; even when the
brave garrison (then found with amazement
to be not two hundred people, including
several ladies) were starved and beaten out
and were made to submit on their knees, and
with every form of disgrace that could aggravate
their sufferings; even then, when there
was not a ray of hope in Scotland, William
Wallace was as proud and firm as if he had
beheld the powerful and relentless Edward
lying dead at his feet.

Who betrayed him in the end, is not quite
certain. That he was betrayed—probably by
an attendant—is too true. He was taken to
the Castle of Dumbarton, under SIR JOHN
MENTEITH, and thence to London, where the
great fame of his bravery and resolution
attracted immense concourses of people to
behold him. He was tried in Westminster
Hall, with a crown of laurel on his head—
it is supposed because he was reported to