been a traitor to the English crown; to which he answered, "I could not be a traitor to Edward, for I was never his subject." He was then charged with having taken and burnt towns and castles, with having killed many men, and done much violence. He replied, with the same calm resolution, that it was true he had killed very many Englishmen, but it was because they had come to subdue and oppress his native country of Scotland; and far from repenting what he had done, he declared he was only sorry that he had not put to death many more of them." Notwithstanding that Wallace's defence was a good one, both in law and in common sense (for surely every one has not only a right to fight in defence of his native country, but is bound in duty to do so), the English judges condemned him to be executed. So this brave patriot was dragged upon a sledge to the place of execution, where his head was struck off, and his body divided into four quarters, which, according to the cruel custom of the time, were exposed upon spikes of iron on London Bridge, and were termed the limbs of a traitor.

102.-WALLACE AND BRUCE.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

[We have been favoured by Mr. Peter Cunningham with the following extract from an unpublished Drama, from the pen of his father].

Carron Side.

Wallace mourning by the body of Græme.

Wallace. O thou calm moon, pursuing thy bright course
Through heaven's deep azure, sown with burning stars,
If thou wert aught but an immortal thing,

To whom the loveliest of man's fancyings

Are but vain shadows, thou'dst rain fiery tears
Upon this earth, and shoot down angry stars.

Cold, calm thou art fair moon, five thousand years
Hast thou pursued thy unremitting course,
Brighter nor darker, though the world beneath

Knee-deep in blood, and heaped with slaughtered bones,
Choked the pure air, so that the lark her song
Took up to the morn stars. Still thou shinest on

Fair and untroubled though wronged maidens' shrieks,
And orphans' cries afflict the midnight air.

Cold thou look'st down on these heroic limbs,

Stretched stark and stiff, a sight to make man mad,
And in his anger to forget the gods.

(Looks at Grame.)

That thou art one.-A word if thou art Wallace.

Wallace. Sir, I am Wallace;-that thou art the Bruce,

Thou hast this day writ in thy country's blood.

See'st thou by the pale moon this face still paler?

To see thy gallant and heroic spirit,

Tasked to a toil surpassing human strength.-
Look on this land-its people few and poor,
Torn too by discord-its crown'd head a shadow-
Contending with the mightiest realm on earth,
With the most martial prince too.—If the love
Of Scotland warms thee in this hopeless strife,
Thy courage will but add weight to her chains.
If thou court'st personal grandeur and ambition,
Thou hast had proof to-day that our high nobles
Scorn thy peculiar merits; and regard

Thy worth as their reproach.

Who ne'er despaired till now! Yes, Scotland's poor,
Its people few, its crowned king a shadow,
Its nobles mean and trait'rous, and its foes
Many and martial, and their monarch warlike.
I said all this and far more to my soul,

Ere I did draw the sword. But when I heard
The loud groan of its people: saw them chased
From rock to forest like the bleeding hart,
No nobles' hands stretch'd out to lead and save.

I set my soul, sir, on this desperate task,

And O! I thought, when I storm'd some strong tower,
And slew some stronger tyrant, it would shame

Into their ancient valour Bruce or Douglas.

That no such change took place, is the blame mine?
No-by the heaven above me thine's the fault.
High birth, high fortune and high courage call

Enter Menteth privily unseen.

On Bruce to avenge his country's wrongs, and place
Our ancient crown on his heroic brow.

Bruce. Hist! sure that is the sound of an arm'd foot!
Wallace. Yea, or the Carron chafing with her rocks,

For she too covets freedom. Sir, can heaven

Find for men's virtue here a holier task
Than warring for one's country, or a higher
Than for the ancient crown of a free people?

For me I know that a most tragic end
Will make my name a wonder.-Yet I'll die
As freely as the summer sun gives light
If it will save my country.

Menteth.

Now I see,

Lord Bruce, the poison sinks into thy soul.

Bruce. I cannot reach my hand o'er this wild stream,

Nor clasp thee in the arms of strong affection,

[asias.

But I press thee in fancy to my soul,

Thou ill-requited patriot.

Wallace.

Well requited now,

Since my poor words and deeds have moved thy heart.-
Throw the inglorious bonds of Edward off-

Summon the lances of the Doon and Nith

Place the bright crown of Scotland on thy brow,—
Call on thy subjects, and an age of wrongs

Right in an hour in one of those great fields

(asi ie).

Or hope on earth, I'll do it!

Menteth.

Scotland's crown
Will tempt thee to perdition, Bruce-I see
These fair locks which the dames of Carrick love,
The axe must sever, and, stern Wallace, thine,
Since thou standest an armed spectre in the path,
Must seek the summit of some royal tower
and wither in the sun and wind.-
Wallace. Do that, and Scotland will perform her part.
Her heart is whole-her spirit stunn'd not crushed.
O Græme, couid thy cold ear but hear these tidings!
My heart leaps light in spite of all the blood
Which has to-day been shed.

And warp

Bruce.

We must act warily,
Our foe is wise and warlike-crafty too.

Wallace. O Bruce, my king, I have a boon to beg,-
When thou stand'st conqueror on some well fought field,
And turn'st thy brow to heaven in prayer, thou❜lt see
My head stuck bleaching on some stronghold's top,
Oh take it down, and reverently inter it—

I have no more to ask.

O! I shall hear

Bruce.
That battle shout again that shakes men's hearts,
And see that sword flash o'er opposing helmets-
Thy right hand on my head shall set the crown.
But we must meet, and when we meet I'll lay
My plans before thee for this great redemption.
Soon of this tryste I'll send in token to thee
By an assured friend.

[Exeunt Wallace, Bruce, and Menteth.

103.-THE DEATH OF PIERS GAVESTON.

C. KNIGHT.

On the edge of the road that leads from Warwick to Coventry, is a knoll now almost covered with trees, which was the scene of one of the most remarkable events in our history. It was on this mount that Piers Gaveston, the favourite of a weak monarch, (Edward II.), was beheaded. The original name of this place was Blacklow-hill. It is now called either by that name, or by that of Gaveston-hill. We have visited this spot ;-and the murder which was there committed appears to us to present a very appropriate illustration of the fierce and troublesome times, when force was opposed to force, and the conflicts of power had not yet submitted to the sacred dominion of law and justice.

The establishment of general freedom, and of legal obligations, in a rude and martial state of society, is generally the work not of a few years, but of whole generations. Though the terms of Magna Charta evidently imply that the great principles of civil liberty were very early developed in England, yet it is evident that the condition of the great body of the people was still slowly improved, and that the crown and the nobility were too often involved in disputes for power, which would not admit of any very decided social amelioration. During the long reign of Henry III., the country was distracted by civil contests;—and in the succeeding sway of Edward I., the bold and martial character of the prince was communicated to the age in which he lived; and though many wholesome laws were established, the balance of authority and of interests in our constitution was still very imperfectly exhibited. The vices and frivolity of Edward II. again stirred up the contests between the monarch and the barons. The event which we are about to record shows to what daring extremities these contests would sometimes lead.

Previous to the accession of Edward II. to the throne, in the year 1307, he had submitted himself, with the most blind and obstinate confidence, to the councils of his favourite, Piers Gaveston. This young man was a Gascon by birth. He is represented by historians to have been possessed of singular personal and mental acquirements;—to have been handsome, active, enterprising, and courageous-and superior in spirit and talent to the rough and unpolished barons of the English court. But he was notoriously unprincipled and profligate, and his pride and ambition were altogether of the most extravagant character. During the life of his father, the young prince Edward had exhibited marks of a vicious and dissolute disposition. He had incurred the displeasure of the king by his irregularities ;and his crimes being ascribed to the evil suggestions of Gaveston, the companion of his vices was banished the kingdom. The first act of the accession of Edward II., was to recall his favourite, and to load him with fortune and honours. He made a grant to him of the whole estate belonging to the earldom of Cornwall;and also bestowed upon him a sum of money, which, in the currency of our own days, would appear to exceed the most extravagant donations of the most thoughtless and luxurious princes of antiquity. Gaveston soon acquired an unbounded influence over the weak king. He removed all the high and responsible officers of the court from their stations, and filled their places with his dependents. He procured himself to be appointed Great Chamberlain of the kingdom, and he became, indeed, the sole ruler of the English dominions. The monarch bestowed upon him his own niece in marriage ;—and consummated the greatness of his favourite by appointing him guardian of the realm during a voyage which he made to France. Had Gaveston possessed the greatest discretion, it is probable that these honours would have excited the utmost jealousy amongst the English nobles. But he was

vain and presuming; and his pride and insolence laid the foundation of an enmity, as extensive as it was bitter and unrelenting.

The unbounded power and ostentation of Gaveston soon called forth the fierce and uncompromising spirit of the barons. They demanded of Edward the banishment of his favourite. The king tampered with their claims; and it soon appeared probable that the sword would decide the controversy. The barons solemnly demanded in Parliament that Gaveston should be expelled the kingdom; the clergy denounced him excommunicated, should he continue in the island. The king at length appointed him Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, assigned the whole revenue of that kingdom for his subsistence, and attended him to the place of his embarkation. In a very short period Edward, being impatient for the return of his favourite, prevailed upon the pope to absolve Gaveston, according to the wretched superstition of those days, from the oath he had taken to leave the kingdom for ever. The sentence of excommunication was also suspended. At the Parliament which followed, the king induced the nobility to consent to Gaveston's recall. But the favourite had not learned prudence. He continued to display the same unbounded arrogance which had provoked the original resentment of the nobility;—and he indulged without reserve a talent for ridicule, of all qualities the most dangerous to the possessor. The barons came armed to Parliament ;-and having a popular subject of complaint against the king, they succeeded in compelling him to authorise a commission for regulating the affairs of the kingdom. The monarch proceeded to the Scottish war against Robert Bruce, accompanied by Gaveston, but his enterprises were not eventually successful. Edward returned to England. The commission which he had authorised had formed many salutary, though perhaps extreme and unconstitutional regulations, for the restriction of the royal prerogative. One of the articles particularly insisted upon was the banishment of Gaveston. The king was compelled to yield, and his favourite left the realm, and for some time resided at Bruges, with all the splendour of a sovereign prince. The next year, 1312, he ventured to return to York. The barons almost immediately took arms, under pretence of holding tournaments. They suddenly united their forces, and proceeded to attack the king at Newcastle. The unhappy monarch filed with precipitation;—and Gaveston secured himself in the fortress of Scarborough, then one of the strongest holds in the kingdom. A detachment of the baronial army immediately invested that post. Gaveston stood several assaults with great bravery; -but, dreading to exasperate his enemies, he at length capitulated to the earl of Pembroke, on condition of being kept in safe custody, while the barons should deliberate on the diposal of his person, and if he should not agree to their terms, that he should be placed in the same posture of defence which he resigned. The barons in authority pledged themselves to the treaty, on pain of forfeiting all their possessions. The earl of Pembroke proposed to convey his prisoner to his own castle at Wallingford, but left him during one night at Deddington Castle, near Banbury. Guy, earl of Warwick, the implacable enemy of Gaveston, immediately seized upon his person. He bore him in triumph to Warwick Castle, where the earls of Lancaster, Hereford, and Arundel, repaired to hold a consultation about their prisoner. His fate was speedily decided. He was dragged to Blacklow-hill, about two miles from Warwick Castle, where he was beheaded amidst the scorn and reproach of his implacable and perfidious enemies.

On the top of Blacklow-hill there is a rude stone, on which the name of Gaveston, and the date of his execution, are cut in ancient characters. As we have here sat, looking with delight upon the beautiful prospect which this summit presents, we could not avoid contrasting the peacefulness and the fertility that were spread around, with the wild appearance that the same spot must have presented, at the period of