ABSTRACT
Most of the chieftains from the north, and around, had drawn to Stirling to be nearer intelligence from the borders. They were aware that this meeting between Wallace and Edward was the crisis of their fate. The few who remained in the citadel, of those who had borne the brunt of the opening of this glorious revolution for their country, were full of spirits, and the most sanguine expectations. They had seen the prowess of their leader, they had shared the glory of his destiny, and they feared not that Edward would deprive him of one ray. But they who at the utmost wilds of the Highlands had only heard his fame, though they had afterwards seen him amongst themselves, reducing the mountain savage to be a civilized man and disciplined soldier, though they had felt the effects of his military successes, yet they doubted how his fortunes might stand the shock of Edward's happy star. The lords whom he had released from the Southron prisons were all of the same dismayed opinion; for they knew what numbers Edward could bring against the Scottish power, and how hitherto unrivalled was his skill in the field. 'Now,' thought Lord Badenoch, 'will this brave Scot find the difference between fighting with the officers of a king, and a king himself, contending for what he determines shall be a part of his dominons!' And resolving never to fall into the hands of Edward again, (for the conduct of Wallace had made the Earl ashamed of his long submisson to the usurpation of rights to which he had a claim,) he ordered a vessel to be ready in the mouth of the Forth, to take him, as soon as the news of the Regent's defeat should arrive, far from the sad consequences, to the quiet asylum of France.
