King Robert the Bruce

by Alexander Falconer Murison

On the fall of Comyn, his followers pressed forward and blows were hotly exchanged. Comyn's uncle, Sir Robert, assailed Bruce himself, but failed to pierce his armour (which, the Meaux Chronicler says, he wore under his clothes), and was cut down by Sir Christopher de Seton, probably in the cloister, not in the church. Barbour adds that 'many others of mickle main' were killed in the mêlée; and the statement is amply confirmed.

While this scene was enacting, the English Justiciars were in session in the Castle. Thither Bruce and his friends, having overpowered Comyn's adherents, at once proceeded. The Justiciars had prudently barricaded the doors, but, when Bruce called for fire, they instantly surrendered. Bruce spared their lives, and allowed them to pass over the Border without molestation. According to Hemingburgh, it was only after Bruce had got possession of the Castle that he learned that Comyn was still alive after his first wound; whereupon, by order of Bruce, the wounded man was dragged from the vestibule, where the friars were tending him, and slain on the steps of the high altar, which was bespattered with his blood.

Comyn was slain (according to the usually accepted date) on February 10. Less than two months later (April 5), Edward affirmed that he had placed complete confidence (plenam fiduciam) in Bruce. The profession may be accepted as sincere, for it is on record, under date February 8 (the order would have been made some days earlier), that Edward remitted scutage due by Bruce on succession to his father's estates. We may, therefore, put aside the English part of the Fordun and Barbour story and refuse to believe that Edward dallied with Comyn's allegations, or was such a simpleton as to let Bruce keep possession of the incriminating bond. But was there a bond at all? It is generally accepted that Edward did hold in his hands a bond of Bruce's; but this bond is usually taken to have been the Lamberton indenture, which is supposed to have come into Edward's possession through the instrumentality of Comyn. Still, there is nothing to show that this indenture was yet in Edward's hands. It may also be gravely doubted whether Comyn would ever have entered into any bond with Bruce. There is much significance in the silence of the English records. Nor is there more than a very slight English indication of any communication about Bruce from Comyn to Edward. It is likely enough, however, that Comyn informed Edward of Bruce's private pushing of his claims; and it may be that the details of the story of a bond were evolved on mere suppositions arising out of the Bruce-Lamberton compact.

The allegation that Bruce deliberately murdered Comyn is the most serious matter. But the English writers do not satisfy one that they had the means of seeing into Bruce's mind; and the allegation may be reasonably regarded as inference, not fact. There can scarcely be any doubt that Bruce resumed the active furtherance of his claims on observation of the declining health of Edward, but without any immediate intention of a rupture. He could hardly have found support enough to counterbalance the far-reaching power of Comyn, to say nothing of the power of Edward. Clearly it was of the very first importance that he should, if possible, gain over Comyn. He may have offered Comyn broad lands and high honours. But to expect the practical heir of the Balliol claims to support him was, on the face of it, all but hopeless; and to speak of patriotism to Comyn would have been nothing less than open insult. Comyn, of course, would stanchly reject Bruce's overtures. Despite all his prudence, Bruce had a hot and imperious temper; and Comyn's obstinacy—it may be Comyn's frank speech—most probably broke down his self-command. If it had been Bruce's deliberate purpose to kill his rival, he would scarcely have chosen a church for the scene, or have left the deed to be afterwards completed either by others or by himself. The mere fact that he was totally unprepared for a struggle with Edward tells almost conclusively against the theory of premeditation—unless there was a very clearly compromising bond with Comyn, which is wholly improbable. The bond with Lamberton—the only bond that certainly existed—was capable of easy explanation, and was a wholly insufficient reason to urge him to murder a rival, whose adherents would make up in bitterness what they lost in leadership.

Nor is there any reason to believe that Lamberton was implicated. True, he was charged, on his own bond, with complicity in the deed. There still exist letters patent, dated Scotland's Well, June 9, 1306, in which Lamberton declares to Sir Aymer de Valence, then Edward's lieutenant in Scotland, his anxious desire 'to defend himself in any way the King or Council may devise against the charge of having incurred any kind of guilt in the death of Sir John Comyn or of Sir Robert his uncle, or in relation to the war then begun'; and on August 9, at Newcastle, he acknowledged the Cambuskenneth indenture. But there is no necessary connection between the compact and the crime; and it is in the last degree improbable that Lamberton had any anticipation whatever of the Dumfries tragedy. His sympathy with Bruce's rising is quite a different consideration.

*****

Having garrisoned Dumfries Castle, Bruce sent out his messengers to raise adherents. The Galwegians having refused to join him, he ravaged their lands; and he took the castles of Tibbers, Durisdeer, and Ayr. But he was not strong enough to keep the castles for more than a very short period. After the first surprise, Comyn's men asserted their superior force; and aid arrived from Carlisle. The Lanercost chronicler records that Bruce pursued a Galwegian noble and besieged him in a lake, but that the Carlisle contingent raised the siege, compelling Bruce to burn his machines and 'ships,' and take to flight. Probably Carlaverock is meant.

Leaving the local struggle to lieutenants, Bruce hastened to Bishop Wishart in Glasgow. At Arickstone, in the upper end of Annandale, Barbour says, he was joined by James of Douglas, who had been staying with the Bishop of St. Andrews—a young man destined to play a great part in the history of Bruce. Bishop Wishart joyously received his visitor, cheerfully broke his sixth oath of fealty to Edward, pronounced absolution of Bruce for the murder of Comyn, and produced coronation robes and a royal banner. There was nothing half-hearted about the flexible prelate. Already the country was in eager expectation, and Bruce and the Bishop proceeded boldly to Scone.

On March 27, 1306, in the Chapel Royal of Scone, the immemorial scene of the inauguration of the Kings of the Scots, Robert Bruce was crowned King. The ceremony inevitably lacked certain of the traditional accessories that strangely influenced the popular mind. The venerable Stone of Destiny had been carried off by Edward ten years before. The crown—if crown there had been—was also gone; and the ancient royal robes—if such there had been—were no longer available. The prescient Bishop, however, had provided fresh robes, and a circlet of gold was made to do duty for a crown. Still, there was lacking an important functionary—the person whose office and privilege it was to place the crown on the head of the King. The proper official was the chief of the clan MacDuff; but Duncan, Earl of Fife, was in wardship in England, and again, as on the coronation of Balliol, arose the difficulty of finding an efficacious substitute. No substitute was forthcoming, and the coronation had to pass with maimed rites.

Two days later, however, this difficulty was dramatically solved. Isabella, Countess of Buchan, and sister of the Earl of Fife, had hastened south with an imposing retinue, and appeared to claim the honour and privilege of her house. A second coronation—not mentioned by the Scottish writers—was held on March 29. The wife of a Comyn, nearly related to the murdered Sir John, the Countess yet performed the mystic function. It would be an exceedingly interesting thing if one could now disentangle the extraordinary complication of ideas and influences involved in this remarkable ceremonial. The subsequent punishment of the Countess by Edward continued the romance of the occasion; and it may be added here that, on March 20, 1306–7, Edward, at the instance of his queen, pardoned one Geoffrey de Conyers for concealing the coronet of gold with which King Robert was crowned.