Chapter V
A Treacherous Plot
So rapid was the advance of Wallace's army that the English hadscarce time to form when they were upon them. The Scotch chargedwith extreme impetuosity among the English ranks, directing theonslaught principally against the centre, commanded by the Earl ofKent.
The English resisted stoutly; but the Earl of Kent was struck downby Wallace himself, and was with difficulty borne off the field;and after severe fighting, the whole English army was thrown intodisorder and took to flight. Some hundreds were killed in action,and many more in the pursuit which followed; this, however, Wallacewould not allow to be pushed too far lest the fugitives shouldrally and turn. Then the victorious Scots returned to the Englishcamp. In this was found a great abundance of provisions, arms,and other valuable booty. Many of the cattle were killed, and asumptuous feast prepared. Then Wallace had the whole of the spoilcarried off into a place of safety in the heart of a neighbouringbog, and he himself fell back to that shelter.
In the morning the English, who had rallied when the pursuit hadceased, again advanced, hoping to find Wallace unprepared. Theywere now commanded by the Earl of Lancaster, and had received somereinforcements in the night. They passed over the scene of theprevious day's battle, and at last came in sight of the Scotcharmy. Wallace at first advanced, and then, as if dismayed at theirsuperior strength, retired to the point where, in order to reachthem, the English would have to cross a portion of the bog. Thesurface was covered with moss and long grass, and the treacherousnature of the ground was unperceived by the English, who, filledwith desire to wipe out their defeat of the preceding day, chargedimpetuously against the Scotch line. The movement was fatal, foras soon as they reached the treacherous ground their horses sunkto the saddle girths. The Scotch had dismounted on firmer groundbehind, and now advanced to the attack, some working round theflanks of the morass, others crossing on tufts of grass, and sofell upon the struggling mass of English. The Earl of Westmorelandand many others of note were killed, and the Earl of Lancaster,with the remains of his force, at once retreated south and recrossedthe Border.
Archie had taken no part in the first battle. Wallace had askedhim whether he would fight by his side or take command of a bodyof infantry; and he chose the latter alternative. Almost all theknights and gentlemen were fighting on horse with their followers,and Archie thought that if these were repulsed the brunt of the fraywould fall upon the infantry. On this occasion, then, he gatheredwith his band of lads a hundred or so pikemen, and formed them inorder, exhorting them, whatever happened, to keep together and tostand stoutly, even against a charge of horse. As the victory waswon entirely by the cavalry he had no opportunity of distinguishinghimself. Upon the second day, however, he did good service,as he and his lightly armed footmen were able to cross the bog inplaces impracticable to the dismounted men-at-arms in their heavyaccoutrements.
The victory of Biggar still further swelled Wallace's forces. SirWilliam Douglas joined him, and other gentlemen. A great meetingwas held at Forest Kirk, when all the leaders of Wallace's forcewere present; and these agreed to acknowledge him as general ofthe Scottish forces against England, with the title of Warden ofScotland.
King Edward was at this time busied with his wars in France, andwas unable to despatch an army capable of effecting the reconquestof that portion of Scotland now held by Wallace; and as the Englishforces in the various garrisons were insufficient for such purpose,the Earl of Percy and the other leaders proposed a truce. Thiswas agreed to. Although Wallace was at the head of a considerableforce, Sir William Douglas was the only one among the Scottishnobles of importance who had joined him; and although the successeswhich he had gained were considerable, but little had been reallydone towards freeing Scotland, all of whose strong places werestill in the hands of the English, and King Edward had not as yetreally put out his strength.
The greater portion of the army of Wallace was now dispersed.
Shortly afterwards the governor of Ayr issued a notice that a greatcouncil would be held at that town, and all the Scotch gentlemenof importance in the district were desired to attend. Wallace wasone of those invited; and deeming that the governor might havesome proposition of Edward to lay before them, he agreed to do so.Although a truce had been arranged, he himself with a band of hismost devoted followers still remained under arms in the forest,strictly keeping the truce, but holding communications with his friendsthroughout the country, urging them to make every preparation, bycollecting arms and exercising their vassals, to take the field witha better appointed force at the conclusion of the truce. Provisionsand money were in abundance, so large had been the captures effected;but Wallace was so accustomed to the free life of the woods that hepreferred to remain there to taking up his abode in a town. Moreover,here he was safe from treachery; for he felt sure that although theEnglish nobles and leaders would be incapable of breaking a truce,yet that there were many of lower degree who would not hesitate atany deed of treachery by which they might gain reward and creditfrom their king. Archie's band were found of the greatest serviceas messengers; and although he sometimes spent a few days at SirRobert Gordon's with his mother, he generally remained by the sideof Wallace. The spot where the Scottish leader was now staying layabout halfway between Lanark and Ayr.
Archie heard with uneasiness the news of the approaching council,and Wallace's acceptance of the invitation. The fact that the Earlof Percy, a very noble knight and gentleman, had been but latelyrecalled from the governorship of Ayr and had been replaced byone of somewhat low degree, Arlouf of Southampton, still furtherincreased his doubts. It seemed strange that the governorship of soimportant a town--a post deemed fitting for Earl Percy--shouldbe bestowed on such a man, were it not that one was desired whowould not hesitate to perform an action from which any honourableEnglish gentleman would shrink.
Two days before the day fixed for the council he called ClunyCampbell and another lad named Jock Farrel to him.
"I have a most important mission for you," he said. "You have heardof the coming council at Ayr. I wish to find out if any evil isintended by the governor. For this purpose you two will proceedthither. You Cluny will put on the garments which you brought withyou; while you Jock had best go as his brother. Here is money. Onyour way procure baskets and buy chickens and eggs, and take themin with you to sell. Go hither and thither among the soldiersand hear what they say. Gather whether among the townspeople thereis any thought that foul play may be intended by the English. Twoof the band will accompany you to within a mile of Ayr, and willremain there in order that you may from time to time send news bythem of aught that you have gathered. Remember that the safety ofWallace, and with it the future of Scotland, may depend upon yourcare and vigilance. I would myself have undertaken the task; butthe Kerrs are now, I hear, in Ayr, and a chance meeting might ruinall; for whatever the truce between English and Scotch, they wouldassuredly keep no truce with me did they meet me. Mind, it is agreat honour that I have done you in choosing you, and is a proofthat I regard you as two of the shrewdest of my band, although theyoungest among them."
Greatly impressed with the importance of their mission, the ladspromised to use their utmost vigilance to discover the intentionsof the governor; and a few minutes later, Cluny being attired inhis sister's clothes, and looking, as Archie laughingly said, "abetter looking girl than she was herself," they started for Ayr,accompanied by two of their companions. They were to remain thereuntil the conclusion of the council, but their companions would berelieved every six hours. Upon their way they procured two baskets,which they filled with eggs and chickens; and then, leaving theircomrades a mile outside Ayr, fearlessly entered the town.
The council was to take place in a large wooden building some shortdistance outside the town, which was principally chosen because itwas thought by the governor that the Scotch gentlemen would haveless reluctance to meet him there than if they were asked to entera city with a strong garrison of English.
The first day t
he lads succeeded in finding out nothing which couldgive any countenance to suspicion that treachery was intended. Theyhad agreed to work separately, and each mingled among the groupsof citizens and soldiers, where the council was the general topicof conversation. There was much wonder and speculation as to theobject for which the governor had summoned it, and as to the termswhich he might be expected to propound, but to none did the ideaof treachery or foul play in any way occur; and when at night theyleft the town and sent off their message to Archie, the lads couldonly say that all seemed fair and honest, and that none either ofthe townspeople or soldiers appeared to have the least expectationof trouble arising at the council. The following morning theyagreed that Jock should hang round the building in which the councilwas to be held, and where preparations for the meeting and for abanquet which was afterwards to take place were being made, whileCluny should continue his inquiries within the walls. Jock hid awayhis basket and joined those looking on at the preparations. Greenboughs were being carried in for decorating the walls, tables, andbenches for the banquet. These were brought from the town in countrycarts, and a party of soldiers under the command of an officercarried them in and arranged them. Several of the rustics lookingon gave their aid in carrying in the tables, in order that theymight take home to their wives an account of the appearance of theplace where the grand council was to be held. Jock thrust himselfforward, and seizing a bundle of green boughs, entered the barn.Certainly there was nothing here to justify any suspicions. Thesoldiers were laughing and joking as they made the arrangements;clean rushes lay piled against a wall in readiness to strew overthe floor at the last moment; boughs had been nailed against thewalls, and the tables and benches were sufficient to accommodatea considerable number. Several times Jock passed in and out, butstill without gathering a word to excite his suspicions. PresentlyArlouf himself, a powerful man with a forbidding countenance, rodeup and entered the barn. He approached the officer in command ofthe preparations; and Jock, pretending to be busy in carrying hisboughs, managed to keep near so as to catch something of theirconversation.
"Is everything prepared, Harris?"
"Yes, sir; another half hour's work will complete everything."
"Do you think that is strong enough?" the governor asked.
"Ay; strong enough for half a dozen of these half starved Scots."
"One at a time will do," the governor said; and then, after a fewmore words, left the barn and rode off to Ayr.
Jock puzzled his head in vain over the meaning of the words he hadheard. The governor had while speaking been facing the door; butto what he alluded, or what it was that the officer had declaredstrong enough to hold half a dozen Scots, Jock could not in theslightest degree make out. Still the words were strange and mightbe important; and he resolved, directly the preparations werefinished and the place closed, so that there could be no chance ofhis learning more, to return himself to Archie instead of sendinga message, as much might depend upon his repeating, word for word,what he had heard, as there was somehow, he felt, a significance inthe manner in which the question had been asked and answered morethan in the words themselves.
Cluny had all day endeavoured in vain to gather any news. He hadthe day before sold some of his eggs and chickens at the governor'shouse, and towards evening he determined again to go thither andto make an attempt to enter the house, where he had heard that theofficers of the garrison were to be entertained that evening at abanquet. "If I could but overhear what is said there, my mind wouldbe at rest. Certainly nothing is known to the soldiers; but it maywell be that if treachery is intended tomorrow, the governor willthis evening explain his plans to his officers."
He had, before entering the town, again filled up his basket withthe unsold portion of Jock's stock, for which the latter had nofurther occasion. The cook at the governor's, when he had purchasedthe eggs on the previous day, had bade him call again, as Cluny'sprices were considerably below those in the market. It was latein the afternoon when he again approached the house. The sentry atthe gate asked no question, seeing a girl with a basket, and Clunywent round again to the door of the kitchen.
"How late you are, girl!" the cook said angrily. "You told me youwould come again today, and I relied upon you, and when you didnot come it was too late, for the market was closed."
"I was detained, sir," Cluny said, dropping a curtsey; "my motheris ill, and I had to look after the children and get the dinnerbefore they went away."
"There, don't waste time talking," the cook said, snatching thebasket from him. "I have no time to count the eggs now; let me knowthe tale of them and the chickens at the same price as you chargedyesterday, and come for your money tomorrow; I have no time to paynow. Here," he called to one of the scullions, "take out these eggsand chickens quickly, but don't break any, and give the basket tothe girl here."
So saying he hurried off to attend to his cooking.
Cluny looked round. But three paces away a half open door led intothe interior of the house. His resolution was taken in a moment.Seeing that none were looking at him he stole through the door,his bare feet falling noiselessly on the stones. He was now ina spacious hall. On one side was an open door, and within was alarge room with tables spread for a banquet. Cluny entered at onceand looked round for a place of concealment; none was to be seen.Tablecloths in those days were almost unknown luxuries. The tableswere supported by trestles, and were so narrow that there wasno possibility of hiding beneath them; nor were there hangings orother furniture behind which he could be concealed. With a beatingheart he turned the handle of a door leading into another apartment,and found himself in a long and narrow room, used apparently asthe private office of the governor. There were many heavy chairsin the room, ranged along the wall, and Cluny crouched in a cornerby the window beside a chair standing there. The concealment was apoor one, and one searching would instantly detect him; but he hadno fear of a search, for he doubted not that the cook, on missinghim, would suppose that he had left at once, intending to callfor his money and basket together the next morning. It was alreadygrowing dusk, and should no one enter the room for another halfhour he would be hidden in the shadow in the corner of the room;but it was more probable still that no one would enter.
The time passed slowly on, and the darkness rapidly increased. Throughthe door, which Cluny had drawn to but had not tightly closed onentering, he could hear the voices of the servants as they movedabout and completed the preparations in the banquet hall. Presentlyall was quiet, but a faint light gleaming in through the crackof the door showed that the lights were lit and that all was inreadiness for the banquet. Half an hour later and there was a heavytrampling of feet and the sound of many voices. The door was suddenlyclosed, and Cluny had no doubt that the dinner was beginning. Risingto his feet he made to the door and listened attentively.
A confused din met his ears, but no distinct words were audible.He could occasionally faintly hear the clattering of plates andthe clinking of glasses. All this continued for nigh two hours, andthen a sudden quiet seemed to fall upon the assembly. Cluny heardthe door close, and guessed that the banquet was at an end and theservitors dismissed. Now, if ever, would something of importancebe said within, and Cluny would have given his life to be able tohear it. Many times he thought of turning the handle and openingthe door an inch or two. Locks in those days were but roughly made;the slightest sound might attract attention, and in that case notonly would his own life be forfeited, but no news of the governor'sintentions--no matter what they might be--could reach Wallace;so, almost holding his breath, he lay on the ground and listenedwith his ear to the sill of the door. The silence was succeeded bya steady monotonous sound as of one addressing the others. Clunygroaned in spirit, for no word could he hear. After some minutesthe murmur ceased, and then many voices were raised together; thenone rose above the rest, and then, distinct and clear, came a voiceevidently raised in anger.
"As you please, Master Hawkins; but if you disobey my orders,as King Edward's governor her
e, you will take the consequences. Ishall at once place you in durance, and shall send report to theking of your mutinous conduct."
"Be that as it may," another voice replied; "whatever befall me, Itell you, sir, that Thomas Hawkins will take no part in an act ofsuch foul and dastardly treachery. I am a soldier of King Edward.I am paid to draw my sword against his enemies, and not to do thebloody work of a murderer."
"Seize him!" the governor shouted. "Give him in charge to the guard,to lay in the castle dungeon."
There was a movement of feet now heard, but Cluny waited nolonger. The angry utterances had reached his ear, and knowing thathis mission was accomplished he thought only now of escape beforedetection might take place. He had noticed when he entered the roomthat the windows were, as was usually the case with rooms on thelower floors, barred; but he saw also that the bars were wide enoughapart for a lad of his slimness to crawl through. The banquetingroom was raised three steps above the hall, and the room that hewas in was upon the same level; the window was four feet from thefloor, and would therefore be probably seven or eight above theground without, which would account for its not being more closelybarred. He speedily climbed up to it and thrust himself through thebars, but not without immense difficulty and great destruction tohis feminine garments.
"Poor Janet!" Cluny laughed to himself as he dropped from thewindow to the ground. "Whatever would she say were she to see thestate of her kirtle and petticoats!"
The moon was young, but the light was sufficient to enable Clunyto see where he was. The window opened into a lane which ran downby the side of the governor's house, and he was soon in the principalstreet. Already most of the citizens were within their houses. Afew, provided with lanterns, were picking their way along the unevenpavement. Cluny knew that it was impossible for him to leave thetown that night; he would have given anything for a rope by whichhe might lower himself from the walls, but there was no possibilityof his obtaining one. The appearance of a young girl wandering inthe streets alone at night would at once have attracted attentionand remarks. So Cluny withdrew into a dark archway, and then satdown until the general silence told him that all had retired torest. Then he made his way along the street until he neared thegateway, and there lying down by the wall he went to sleep.
When the gate was opened in the morning Cluny waited until a fewpersons had passed in and out and then approached it. "Hallo! lass,"the sergeant of the guard, who was standing there, said. "You area pretty figure with your torn clothes! Why, what has happened toyou?"
"If you please, sir," Cluny said timidly, "I was selling my eggsto the governor's cook, and he kept me waiting, and I did not knowthat it was so late, and when I got to the gates they were shut,and I had nowhere to go; and then, please sir, as I was wanderingabout a rough soldier seized me and wanted to kiss me, and ofcourse I would not let him, and in the struggle he tore my clothesdreadfully; and some burghers, who heard me scream, came up and theman left me, and one of the burghers let me sleep in his kitchen,and I don't know what mother will say to my clothes;" and Clunylifted the hem of his petticoat to his eyes.
"It is a shame, lass," the sergeant said good temperedly; "an Ihad been there I would have broke the fellow's sconce for him; butanother time, lass, you should not overstay the hour; it is not goodfor young girls to be roaming at night in a town full of soldiers.There, I hope your mother won't beat you, for, after all, it wasthe fault of the governor's cook rather than yours."
Cluny pursued his way with a quiet and depressed mien until he wasfairly out of sight of the gates. Then he lifted his petticoats toa height which would have shocked his sister Janet, to give freeplay to his limbs, and at the top of his speed dashed down the roadtoward Lanark. He found his two companions waiting at the appointedspot, but he did not pause a moment.
"Are you mad, Cluny?" they shouted.
And indeed the wild figure, with its tucked up garments, tearingat full speed along the road, would have been deemed that of a madgirl by any who had met it.
"Come on!" he shouted. "Come on, it is for life or death!" andwithout further word he kept on at full speed. It was some timebefore his companions overtook him, for they were at first tooconvulsed by laughter at Cluny's extraordinary appearance to be ableto run. But presently, sobered by the conviction that something ofextreme importance must have happened, they too started at theirbest speed, and presently came up with Cluny, upon whose pace themile he had already run told heavily.
"For the sake of goodness, Cluny, go slower," one of them pantedout as they came to him. "We have nine miles yet to run, and if wego on like this we shall break down in another half mile, and haveto walk the rest."
Cluny himself, with all his anxiety to get on, was beginning tofeel the same, and he slackened his pace to a slinging trot, whichin little over an hour brought them to the wood.