In Freedom's Cause. G.A. Henty
castles and strongholds of Scotland should be surrendered into the hands of English commanders and garrisons. This was immediately done; and thus it is, Archie, that you see an English officer lording it over the Scotch town of Lanark.
“Then every Scotchman was called upon to do homage to the English king as his lord paramount, and all who refused to do so were seized and arrested. Finally, on the 17th of November last, 1292 – the date will long be remembered in Scotland – Edward’s judgment was given at Berwick, and by it John Baliol was declared King of Scotland.
“Thus for eighteen months Scotland was kept in doubt; and this was done, no doubt, to enable the English to rivet their yoke upon our shoulders, and to intimidate and coerce all who might oppose it.”
“There were some that did oppose it, mother, were there not? – some true Scotchmen who refused to own the supremacy of the King of England?”
“Very few, Archie. One Sir Malcolm Wallace, a knight of but small estate, refused to do so, and was, together with his eldest son, slain in an encounter with an English detachment under a leader named Fenwick at Loudon Hill.”
“And was he the father of that William Wallace of whom the talk was lately that he had slain young Selbye, son of the English governor of Dundee?”
“The same, Archie.”
“Men say, mother, that although but eighteen years of age he is of great stature and strength, of very handsome presence, and courteous and gentle; and that he was going quietly through the streets when insulted by young Selbye, and that he and his companions being set upon by the English soldiers, slew several and made their escape.”
“So they say, Archie. He appears from all description of him to be a remarkable young man, and I trust that he will escape the vengeance of the English, and that some day he may again strike some blows for our poor Scotland, which, though nominally under the rule of Baliol, is now but a province of England.”
“But surely, mother, Scotchmen will never remain in such a state of shameful servitude!”
“I trust not, my son; but I fear that it will be long before we shake off the English yoke. Our nobles are for the most part of Norman blood; very many are barons of England; and so great are the jealousies among them that no general effort against England will be possible. No, if Scotland is ever to be freed, it will be by a mighty rising of the common people, and even then the struggle between the commons of Scotland and the whole force of England aided by the feudal power of all the great Scotch nobles, would be well nigh hopeless.”
This conversation sank deeply into Archie’s mind; day and night he thought of nothing but the lost freedom of Scotland, and vowed that even the hope of regaining his father’s lands should be secondary to that of freeing his country. All sorts of wild dreams did the boy turn over in his mind; he was no longer gay and light hearted, but walked about moody and thoughtful. He redoubled his assiduity in the practice of arms; and sometimes when fighting with Sandy, he would think that he had an English man-at-arms before him, and would strike so hotly and fiercely that Sandy had the greatest difficulty in parrying his blows, and was forced to shout lustily to recall him from the clouds. He no longer played at ball with the village lads; but, taking the elder of them aside, he swore them to secrecy, and then formed them into a band, which he called the Scottish Avengers. With them he would retire into valleys far away from the village, where none would mark what they were doing, and there they practised with club and stake instead of broadsword and pike, defended narrow passes against an imaginary enemy, and, divided into two parties, did battle with each other.
The lads entered into the new diversion with spirit. Among the lower class throughout Scotland the feeling of indignation at the manner in which their nobles had sold their country to England was deep and passionate. They knew the woes which English domination had brought upon Wales and Ireland; and though as yet without a leader, and at present hopeless of a successful rising, every true Scotchman was looking forward to the time when an attempt might be made to throw off the English yoke.
Therefore the lads of Glen Cairn entered heart and soul into the projects of their “young chief,” for so they regarded Archie, and strove their best to acquire some of the knowledge of the use of sword and pike which he possessed. The younger lads were not permitted to know what was going on – none younger than Archie himself being admitted into the band, while some of the elders were youths approaching man’s estate. Even to his mother Archie did not breathe a word of what he was doing, for he feared that she might forbid his proceedings. The good lady was often surprised at the cuts and bruises with which he returned home; but he always turned off her questions by muttering something about rough play or a heavy fall, and so for some months the existence of the Scottish Avengers remained unsuspected.
Chapter II. Leaving Home
One day when “the Avengers” were engaged in mimic battle in a glen some two miles from the village they were startled with a loud shout of “How now, what is this uproar?” Bows were lowered and hedge stakes dropped; on the hillside stood Red Roy, the henchman of Sir John Kerr, with another of the retainers. They had been crossing the hills, and had been attracted by the sound of shouting. All the lads were aware of the necessity for Archie’s avoiding the notice of the Kerrs, and Andrew Macpherson, one of the eldest of the lads, at once stepped forward: “We are playing,” he said, “at fighting Picts against Scots.”
This was the case, for the English were so hated that Archie had found that none would even in sport take that name, and the sides were accordingly dubbed Scots and Picts, the latter title not being so repugnant, and the companies changing sides each day.
“It looks as if you were fighting in earnest,” Roy said grimly, “for the blood is streaming down your face.”
“Oh, we don’t mind a hard knock now and again,” Andrew said carelessly. “I suppose, one of these days, we shall have to go out under Sir John’s banner, and the more hard knocks we have now, the less we shall care for them then.”
“That is so,” Roy said; “and some of you will soon be able to handle arms in earnest. Who are your leaders?” he asked sharply, as his eye fixed on Archie, who had seated himself carelessly upon a rock at some little distance.
“William Orr generally heads one side, and I the other.”
“And what does that young Forbes do?” Red Roy asked.
“Well, he generally looks on,” Andrew replied in a confidential tone; “he is not much good with the bow, and his lady mother does not like it if he goes home with a crack across the face, and I don’t think he likes it himself; he is but a poor creature when it comes to a tussle.”
“And it is well for him that he is,” Red Roy muttered to himself; “for if he had been likely to turn out a lad of spirit, Sir John would have said the word to me before now; but, seeing what he is, he may as well be left alone for the present. He will never cause trouble.” So saying, Red Roy strolled away with his companion, and left the lads to continue their mimic fight.
News travelled slowly to Glen Cairn; indeed, it was only when a travelling chapman or pedlar passed through, or when one of the villagers went over to Lanark or Glasgow, carrying the fowls and other produce of the community to market, that the news came from without.
Baliol was not long before he discovered that his monarchy was but a nominal one. The first quarrel which arose between him and his imperious master was concerning the action of the courts. King Edward directed that there should be an appeal to the courts at Westminster from all judgments in the Scottish courts. Baliol protested that it was specifically agreed by the Treaty of Brigham that no Scotchman was liable to be called upon to plead outside the kingdom; but Edward openly declared, “Notwithstanding any concessions made before Baliol became king, he considered himself at liberty to judge in any case brought before him from Scotland, and would, if necessary, summon the King of Scots himself to appear in his presence.” He then compelled Baliol formally to renounce and cancel not only the Treaty of Brigham, but every stipulation of the kind “known to exist, or which might be thereafter discovered.” Another appeal followed, and Baliol was cited to appear personally, but refused; he was thereupon declared contumacious by the English parliament,