About Me
I am William Wallace, second son of Sir Malcolm Wallace, Laird of Elderslie in Renfrewshire, Scotland. I was born around 1270. My early education was conducted by an uncle who was a churchman at Dunipace, near Stirling. This worthy man shared in our family's patriotism which instilled in my young heart the love of freedom which would later define my life and deeds. My father refused to swear fealty to Edward of England in 1291 and in consequence had to flee from Elderslie and into hiding. He was later killed in an encounter with the English. My mother and I found refuge with a relative at Kilspindie in the Carse of Gowrie where my religious education was to continue. However, my killing of the young Selby, son of the governor of the English-occupied castle of Dundee, became the immediate cause of my outlawry and flight into real action against the English. By early 1297 I was leading an eager and disciplined mobile Guerrilla force. We directed a campaign of unceasing and implacable guerrilla warfare against the English invaders that occupied our Scottish castles and towns, we were soon to become the nucleus of a powerfull army of Scots as support gradually mustered to our cause, despite the reservations of the Scottish nobility. Eventually we joined forces with Sir Andrew Murray who had been leading a similar campaign in the north. The tide was turned on 11th September 1297 when, by superior strategy and resolve we trapped and utterly smashed the mighty English army of Cressingham and Surrey at Stirling Bridge. The results sent a message that no-one could ignore, in Scotland as well as England. Soon after the battle I was Knighted and made Guardian of Scotland and for a year I governed in the name of the absent King, John Balliol. It was the winter of 1297, the next move was south, into England, to put the fear into them, send food northwards, and reclaim at least a little of what had been taken from us. In response to this and his defeat at Stirling, Longshanks launched an invasion with a great army of 100,000 men. We battled the English at Falkirk and failed. Our cavalry, mostly Anglo-Norman nobility of dubious loyalty, broke ranks and fled at the first approach of the English. Many heroic Scots died that day. Disgusted and disillusioned with this treachery I resigned the Guardianship thus embarking on a mission to the continent to plead Scotland's case to the pope and the King of France. Upon returning to Scotland I resumed the familiar tactic of guerrilla warfare, fighting at the head of my own trusted force. We kept the hope alive for some time, until in 1305 I was captured as I lay sleeping in a barn at Robroyston, near Glasgow. I was betrayed into the hands of John Menteith, Governor of Dumbarton Castle and shameful traitor. Bound and fettered, I was conveyed to London to await English 'justice'. The trial was but an exhibition. They judged me guilty of treason, murder, robbery, and sacrilege. My execution was carried out with inhuman barbarity. I remained true and uncompromised to the last breath......................................................
........ I am still alive, my example shines on as a beacon of inspiration, hope, and strength, to all who love freedom. My legacy is eternal. I shall never die...... ALBA GU BRATH!!!
