The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

JANE PORTER

The Scottish Chiefs

Jane Porter was born at Durham in 1776, but at the age of four she went to Edinburgh with her family, was brought up in Scotland, and had the privilege of knowing Sir Walter Scott. Her first romance, "Thaddeus of Warsaw," was published in 1803, soon after she had removed from Edinburgh to London. Her next romance, "The Scottish Chiefs," did not appear until 1810. It won an immediate popularity, which survived even the formidable rivalry of the "Waverley Novels," and the book remained a favourite, especially in Scotland, during most of the last century. The story abounds in historical inaccuracies, and the characters are addicted to conversing in the dialect of melodrama-but these blemishes did not abate the vogue of this exciting and spirited work with the reading public. Miss Porter remained a prominent figure in London literary society until her death on May 24, 1850.

I.--The Lady Marion

Sir William Wallace made his way swiftly along the crags and across the river to the cliffs which overlooked the garden of Ellerslie. As he approached he saw his newly-wedded wife, the Lady Marion, leaning over the couch of a wounded man. She looked up, and, with a cry of joy, threw herself into his arms. Blood dropped from his forehead upon her bosom.

"O my Wallace, my Wallace!" cried she in agony.

"Fear not, my love, it is a mere scratch. How is the wounded stranger?"

It was Wallace who had saved the stranger's life. That day he had been summoned to Douglas Castle, where he had received in secret from Sir John Monteith an iron box entrusted to him by Lord Douglas, then imprisoned in England; he had been charged to cherish the box in strictness, and not to suffer it to be opened until Scotland was again free. Returning with his treasure through Lanark, he had seen a fellow countryman wounded, and in deadly peril at the hands of a party of English. Telling two of his attendants to carry the injured man to Ellerslie, he had beaten off the English and slain their leader--Arthur Heselrigge, nephew of the Governor of Lanark.

"Gallant Wallace!" said the stranger, "it is Donald, Earl of Mar, who owes you his life."

"Then blest be my arm," exclaimed Wallace, "that has preserved a life so precious to my country!"

"Armed men are approaching!" cried Lady Marion. "Wallace, you must fly. But oh! whither?"

"Not far, my love; I must seek the recesses of the Cartlane Crags. But the Earl of Mar--we must conceal him."

They found a hiding-place for the wounded earl, and Wallace went away, promising to be near at hand. Hardly had he gone when the door was burst open by a band of soldiers, and Lady Wallace was confronted by the governor of Lanark.

"Woman!" cried he, "on your allegiance to King Edward, answer me--where is Sir William Wallace, the murderer of my nephew?"

She was silent.

"I can reward you richly," he went on, "if you speak the truth. Refuse, and you die!"

She stretched her hands to heaven.

"Blessed Virgin, to thee I commit myself."

"Speak!" cried the governor, drawing his sword. She sank to the ground. "Kneel not to me for mercy!"

"I kneel to heaven alone," she said firmly, "and may it ever preserve my Wallace!"

"Blasphemous wretch!" cried the governor, and he plunged the sword through her heart.

A shudder of horror ran through the English soldiers.

"My friends," said Heselrigge, "I reward your services with the plunder of Ellerslie."

"Cursed be he who first carries a stick from its walls!" exclaimed a veteran.

"Amen!" murmured all the soldiers.

But next day the governor, with a body of soldiers who had not witnessed his infamous deed, plundered Ellerslie and burnt it to the ground. During the day Lord Mar was brought from his hiding-place, and taken to Bothwell Castle; but the English seized him and his wife, and they were placed in strict confinement among the English garrison on the Rock of Dumbarton.

An aged retainer carried the awful news of the murder to Wallace in his concealment. For long he was overpowered with agony. Then a desperate determination arose in his mind. "The sun must not again rise upon Heselrigge!" was his thought. He called his followers, and told them of the deed. "From this hour," he cried, "may Scotland date her liberty, or Wallace return no more!"

"Vengeance! vengeance!" was the cry.

That night the English garrison of Lanark was surprised, and Wallace's sword was buried in the body of his wife's murderer.

"So fall the enemies of Sir William Wallace!" shouted his men exultantly.

"Rather so fall the enemies of Scotland!" cried he. "Henceforth Wallace has neither love nor resentment but for her. From now onwards I devote myself to the winning of my country's freedom, or to death in her cause."

II.--Wallace the Liberator

Band after band of Scottish patriots flocked to the banner of Wallace--the banner that bore the legend "God armeth the patriot," and in which was embroidered a tress of Lady Marion's hair. The making of it had been the labour of Lady Helen Mar, daughter of the earl; admiration for Wallace's prowess, and sympathy with his misfortune had aroused in her--although she had never seen him--an eager devotion to him as the man who had dared to strike at tyranny and fight for his country's freedom.