By one brief and simple rite, in that chivalric age, he had been made respectable, transferred to the ranks of the men of honour, given a status that none could take away from him. Knighthood, in 1298, was no empty honour. Much that had been almost inconceivable only a few moments before was now possible. William Wallace was no fool, and however reluctant to be beholden to young Bruce, or any other lord, he would not have rejected this accolade, even if he could.
Bruce was not finished yet. Into the gradually ensuing hush, he spoke.
As Earl of Carrick, and therefore member or the high council of this kingdom, I do now request of that council to declare and appoint Sir William Wallace of Elderslie, Knight, to be Guardian of Scotland, as from this present. He looked first at the Steward, and then nodded to his brother-in-law, Mar.
It was a shrewd thrust, addressing his nomination to the high or privy council. Such body undoubtedly existed, but it had not met formally for long. More important, for his present requirements, it had had no new members appointed to it for years.
Therefore, save for one or two elderly men, only those who
automatically belonged to it by virtue of their high office or
position, could at the moment claim to be members. These were the
great officers of state, the senior bishops, and the earls. At one
blow, Bruce had silenced much of the opposition. The Red Comyn, for
instance, undoubtedly would have been a privy councillor if that body had been properly appointed; but lacking King or Guardian, no recent additions had been made.
Mar was about to speak, when Lennox forestalled him. As another of the old Celtic nobility, he had no love for the Normans in general and the Comyns in particular.
I, Malcolm of Lennox, agree, he said.
I say Sir William Wallace for Guardian.
Aye. As do I, Mar added.
No! That was Buchan, gazing round him anxiously. As well he might. Apart from the Earl of Strathearn, and the Steward himself, there was only one other certain privy councillor present, the Bishop of Gallowayand coming from that airt, he was almost bound to be a Bruce supporter. He was.
I also say for Wallace, the Bishop announced briefly.
As do I, Malise of Strathearn nodded.
There was a brief pause, and the Steward, licking his lips, spoke.
Does any other … of the council … say otherwise, my lords?
I protest! Sir John Comyn cried hotly.
At this, of the council. It is a trick, a ruse. Who knows who is of the council? It has not met. These three years and more. Bruce would trick us all. I say all lords and knights may speak. And vote.
There were cries of agreement from not a few, but Bruce shouted through them.
I declare that the voices of individual lords and knights, however puissant, have no authority in this. Only a parliament duly summoned, or else the council, can appoint a Guardian. This assembly cannot be a parliamentsince who had authority to call one? Therefore, the council only may speak for the realm.
And there are councillors enough here.
So … so I hold and sustain, the Steward nodded, though obviously uncomfortably.
Can you deny it, my lord Constable?
Unhappily Buchan eyed his cousin.
In other circumstances he began, and waved a helpless hand.
I call the vote, Lennox said.
Aye. James Stewart acceded. Does any other member of the council speak?
There was none other to speak.
I see no need to vote, then. The issue is clear. Five have spoken for-no, six. One against. If I myself were to vote, nothing would be altered. My lord Constablewill you withdraw your opposition, that all may be more decently done?
Buchan sighed, and nodded, in one.
So be it. I declare Sir William Wallace, Knight, to be Guardian of this Scotland-in the name of the famous prince, the Lord John, by Gods grace King of Scots.
Strangely, there was comparatively little acclaim and demonstration now. Men seemed to be sobered suddenly by what was done, what the implications were, what this dramatic action foreshadowed.
It was as though an irrevocable step had been taken, an assured order all but overturned. All were for the moment abashed. Even Bruce, who should have protested about this being done in the name of Baliol, did not do so.
All looked at Wallace.
That giant appeared to come out of a trance. Almost like a dog shaking itself, he heaved his huge shoulders and raised his auburn head. He gazed round on them all, out of those vivid blue eyes, unspeaking still, a tremendous, vital figure, the very personification of innate strength, vigour and resolve. Then slowly, waving his supporters back, he began to pace forward from his transept.
Not a sound was heard as he stalked up the choir steps and came to stand before the Steward. That man rose, and after a moment, bowed deeply before the other. Then he moved slightly aside, and gestured to Wallace to take the seat he had vacated, the simplest of tokens, but fraught with significance.
Something like a corporate moan rose from the great company.
Wallace inclined his head, and moved into the Stewards place.
But he did not sit. He turned, to face them all, and raised a hand.
My friends, he said, and his deep voice shook with emotion.
I thank you. I thank you, with all my heart. For your trust. I swear before Almighty God that it will not be betrayed.
God and His saints aiding me, I shall not fail you. Much is needed. I shall demand much of you. But, for myself. I shall give all. This I vow-and you are my witnesses.
The murmur that swept the crowd as like the distant surge and draw of the tide on a long strand.
And now, my friends, to work. With a flick of his hand Wallace seemed to thrust all that had transpired behind him.
Emotion, by-play, ceremony, had had their moment. Typical of the man,
all was now decision.
There is much to do, I told you.
Most can and must be done hereafter. But it is right that some shall be done here, before you alland be seen to be done. The council, for one. I know but little of these thingsbut it is clearly in need of renewing, of enlarging, as my lord of Badenoch says.
My first duty, therefore, as Guardian, is to see to this. I now ask Sir John Comyn, Lord of Badenoch, to join it. Also Sir Alexander Lindsay, Lord of Crawford; Sir Alexander Comyn, Lord of Lumphanan;
Sir Alexander de Baliol, Lord of Cavers; Sir William Murray, Lord of Tullibardine; and Master William Comyn, Provost of the Chapel-Royal.
Even Bruce gasped at this swift recital, rapped out like the cracking of a whip. At first, like others, he had thought it unsuitable lacking in fitness, for Wallace to plunge so immediately into the exercise of his new authority. But now he saw, as all men of any understanding must see, how astute a move this was.
Wallace had been appointed in the face of Comyn opposition; and since they were the most powerful family in the land, he would have them as a burden on his back. But, by this sudden move, he had changed the situation dramatically, and put the Comyns, especially Sir John, into a position of acute difficulty. He had singled out three of them for advancement, in this his first official act. The Red Comyn had himself indicated that the council was in need of new blood. Now, to refuse to sit on it, especially in the company present, was almost unthinkable. Yet it meant that the mighty Comyns were thereby accepting favour at Wallaces hands, the very first to do so, demonstrating to all their acknowledgement of his authority. He had them in a cleft stick.