The Scottish Chiefs
Chapter LXXXI.
The Thames.
On the evening of the fourteenth day from the one in which Helen hadembarked, the little ship of Dundee entered on the bright bosom of theNore. While she sat on the deck watching the progress of the vesselwith an eager spirit, which would gladly have taken wings to have flownto the object of her voyage, she first saw the majestic waters of theThames. But it was a tyrannous flood to her, and she marked not thediverging shores crowned with palaces; her eyes looked over everystately dome to seek the black summits of the Tower. At a certainpoint the captain of the vessel spoke through his trumpet to summon apilot from the land. In a few minutes he was obeyed. The Englishmantook the helm. Helen was reclined on a coil of ropes near him. Heentered into conversation with the Norwegian, and she listened inspeechless attention to a recital which bound up her every sense inthat hearing. The captain had made some unprincipled jest on thepresent troubles of Scotland, now his adopted country from hiscommercial interests, and he added with a laugh, "that he though anyruler the right one who gave him a free course in traffic." In answerto this remark, and with an observation not very flattering to theNorwegian's estimation of right and wrong, the Englishman mentioned thecapture of the once renowned champion of Scotland. Even the enemy whorecounted the particulars, showed a truth in the recital which shamedthe man who had benefited by the patriotism he affected to despise, andfor which Sir William Wallace was now likely to shed his blood.
"I was present," continued the pilot, "when the brave Scot was put onthe raft, which carried him through the Traitor's Gate into the Tower.His hands and feet were bound with iron; but his head, owing tofaintness from the wounds he had received at Lumloch, was so bent downon his breast as he reclined on the float, that I could not then seehis face. There was a great pause, for none of us, when he did appearin sight, could shout over the downfall of so merciful a conqueror.Many were spectators of this scene whose lives he had spared on thefields of Scotland; and my brother was amongst them. However, that Imight have a distinct view of the man who has so long held our warlikemonarch in dread, I went to Westminster Hall on the day appointed forhis trial. The great judges of the land, and almost all the lordsbesides were there, and a very grand spectacle they made. But when thehall-door was opened, and the dauntless prisoner appeared, then it wasthat I saw true majesty. King Edward on his throne never looked withsuch a royal air. His very chains seemed given to be graced by him ashe moved through the parting crowd with the step of one who had beenused to have all his accusers at his feet. Though pale with loss ofblood, and his countenance bore traces of the suffering occasioned bythe state of his yet unhealed wounds, his head was now erect, and helooked with undisturbed dignity on all around. The Earl of Gloucester,whose life and liberty he had granted at Berwick, sat on the right ofthe lord chancellor. Bishop Beck, the Lords de Valence and Soulis,with one Monteith (who it seems was the man that betrayed him into ourhands), charged him with high treason against the life of King Edwardand the peace of his majesty's realms of England and Scotland.Grievous were the accusations brought against him, and bitter therevilings with which he was denounced as a traitor too mischievous todeserve any show of mercy. The Earl of Gloucester at last roseindignantly, and in energetic and respectful terms, called on SirWilliam Wallace, by the reverence in which he held the tribunal offuture ages, to answer for himself!
"'On this adjuration, brave earl!' replied he, 'I will speak!' O! menof Scotland, what a voice was that! In it was all honesty andnobleness! and a murmur arose from some who feared its power, whichGloucester was obliged to check by exclaiming aloud with a stern voice;'Silence, while Sir William Wallace answers. He who disobeys,sergeant-at-arms, take into custody!' A pause succeeded, and thechieftain, with god-like majesty of truth, denied the possibility ofbeing a traitor where he never had owed allegiance. But with amatchless fearlessness, he avowed the facts alleged against him, whichtold the havoc he had made of the English on the Scottish plains, andthe devastations he had afterward wrought in the lands of England. 'Itwas a son,' cried he, 'defending the orphans of his father from thesteel and rapine of a treacherous friend! It was the sword ofrestitution gathering on that false friend's fields the harvests he hadravaged from theirs!' He spoke more and nobly--too nobly for them whoheard him. They rose to a man to silence what they could not confute;and the sentence of death was pronounced on him--the cruel death of atraitor! The Earl of Gloucester turned pale on his seat, but thecountenance of Wallace was unmoved. As he was led forth, I followed,and of Wallace was unmoved. As he was led forth, I followed, and sawthe young Le de Spencer, with several other reprobate gallants of ourcourt, ready to receive him. With shameful mockery they flew laurelson his head, and with torrents of derision, told him, it was meet theyshould so salute the champion of Scotland! Wallace glanced on them alook which spoke pity rather than contempt, and, with a serenecountenance, he followed the warden toward the Tower. The hirelings ofhis accusers loaded him with invectives as he passed along; but thepopulace who beheld his noble mien, with those individuals who hadheard of--while many had felt--his generous virtues, deplored and wepthis sentence. To-morrow at sunrise he dies."
Helen's face being overshadowed by the low brim of her hat, the agonyof her mind could not have been read in her countenance had the goodSouthron been sufficiently uninterested in his story to regard thesympathy of others; but as soon as he had uttered the last dreadfulwords, "To-morrow at sunrise he dies!" she started from her seat; herhorror-struck senses apprehended nothing further, and turning to theNorwegian, "Captain," cried she, "I must reach the Tower this night!"
"Impossible!" was the reply: "the tide will not take us up tillto-morrow at noon."
"Then the waves shall!" cried she, and frantically rushing toward theship's side, she would have thrown herself into the water, had not thepilot caught her arm.
"Boy!" said he, "are you mad? your action, your looks--"
"No," interrupted she, wringing her hands; "but in the Tower I must bethis night, or-- Oh! God of mercy, end my misery!"
The unutterable anguish of her voice, countenance, and gesture exciteda suspicion in the Englishman, that this youth was connected with theScottish chief; and not choosing to hint his surmise to the unfeelingNorwegian, in a different tone he exhorted Helen to composure, andoffered her his own boat, which was then towed at the side of thevessel, to take her to the Tower. Helen grasped the pilot's roughhand, and in a paroxysm of gratitude pressed it to her lips; thenforgetful of her engagements with the insensible man who stood unmovedby his side, sprung into the boat. The Norwegian followed her, and ina threatening tone demanded his hire. She now recollected it, andputting her hand into her vest, gave him the string of pearls which hadbeen her necklace. He was satisfied, and the boat pushed off.
The cross, the cherished memorial of her hallowed meeting with Wallacein the chapel of Snawdoun, and which always hung suspended on herbosom, was now in her hand and pressed close to her heart. The rowersplied their oars, and her eyes, with a gaze as if they would pierce thehorizon, looked intently onward, while the men labored through thetide. Even to see the walls which contained Wallace, seemed to promiseher a degree of comfort she dared hardly hope herself to enjoy. Atlast the awful battlements of England's state prison rose before her.She could not mistake them. "That is the Tower," said one of therowers. A shriek escaped her, and instantly covering her face with herhands, she tried to shut from her sight those very walls she had solong sought amongst the clouds. They imprisoned Wallace! He groanedwithin their confines! and their presence paralyzed her heart.
"Shall I die before I reach thee, Wallace?" was the question her almostflitting soul uttered, as she, trembling, yet with swift steps,ascended the stone stairs which led from the water's edge to theentrance to the Tower. She flew through the different courts to theone in which stood the prison of Wallace. One of the boatmen, beingbargeman to the Governor of the Tower, as a privileged person,conducted her unmolested
through every ward till she reached the placeof her destination. There she dismissed him with a ring from herfinger as his reward; and passing a body of soldiers, who kept guardbefore a large porch that led to the dungeons, she entered, and foundherself in an immense paved room. A single sentinel stood at the endnear to an iron grating, or small portcullis; there, then, was Wallace!Forgetting her disguise and situation, in the frantic eagerness of herpursuit, she hastily advanced to the man:
"Let me pass to Sir William Wallace," cried she, "and treasures shallbe your reward."
"Whose treasures, my pretty page?" demanded the soldier; "I dare not,were it at the suit of the Countess of Gloucester herself."
"Oh!" cried Helen, "for the sake of a greater than any countess in theland, take this jeweled bracelet, and let me pass!"
The man, misapprehending the words of this adjuration, at sight of thediamonds, supposing the page must come from the good queen, no longerdemurred. Putting the bracelet into his bosom, he whispered Helen,that as he granted this permission at the risk of his life, she mustconceal herself in the interior chamber of the prisoner's dungeonshould any person from the warden visit him during their interview.She readily promised this; and he informed her that, when through thisdoor, she must cross two other apartments, the bolts to the entrancesof which she must undraw; and then, at the extremity of a long passage,a door, fastened by a latch, would admit her to Sir William Wallace.With these words, the soldier removed the massy bars, and Helen entered.