It is uncertain at what time John Cumyn succeeded to his father. He appears, however, in 1289, as joint agent along with James the Steward, in the letter of the community of Scotland, directed to Edward I., from Brigham. According to Henry, he was married to a cousin of the King of England; and this, from all authorities, seems to have been the case, for he espoused Joan, the sister of Aymer de Valence, whose father, William de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, was uterine brother to Henry III. With this powerful connection, he no doubt expected a different decision in the submission respecting the throne of Scotland. This disappointment, in all probability, made him afterwards more ready to join the insurrection under Wallace; and if it had not been for the odium which he afterwards drew upon himself by his conduct at the battle of Falkirk, he might have figured in the annals of his country with a fair and honourable reputation. While regent of Scotland, his behaviour was not only unexceptionable, but often praiseworthy. This, however, may have been partly owing to the strict surveillance which Wallace still exercised in the affairs of the country, or partly from a wish to conciliate his countrymen in the event of a favourable opportunity occurring for his obtaining the crown,—an object of ambition of which it is pretty evident he never lost sight.
The treachery towards Bruce, which has been charged against him by all authorities except Lord Hailes, also tended to deepen the stain on his character. This charge, whether true or false, we have no means of ascertaining. A number of the objections stated by his Lordship against it are, however, of considerable weight. That a bond existed between them of the tenor already described, there is little doubt; and that the terms of this bond became afterwards matter of dispute, there is some reason to believe, as the fulfilment of it would have been dangerous to both. For had Bruce been placed on the throne by the assistance of Cumyn, and the latter had received the estates of Bruce, according to agreement, he would have been a subject far too powerful for the crown; and vice versa in the case of Bruce. The quarrel, therefore, which subsequently took place in the chapel of Dumfries, and which ended in the death of Cumyn, (the particulars of which are known to every reader), might have arisen in an altercation respecting the difficulties involved in the completion of the bond, without either party having been guilty of a breach of faith. It was no doubt the policy of Bruce and his confederates, that the stain of treachery should be affixed on the name of Cumyn, as it afforded the only plausible excuse for committing a murder in a place of such reputed sanctity. Indeed the circumstance of the latter having requested an interview within the precincts of a church, showed nothing like a premeditated intention to quarrel; but since the deed was committed, it seemed necessary to the future safety and views of Bruce and his faction, that with the influence the character of the Cumyns should be diminished. That they assisted in this last object themselves, is but too apparent; otherwise it would be difficult to account for that odium which afterwards became attached to them. For while the Scots, in the Low country, cried out against the “fause Cumyn’s Kyn,” their vassals in Badenoch and Lochaber re-echoed the charge, till the very name became cognominal with deceit; so much so, that the following proverb is at this day remembered in those parts of the Highlands to which their influence extended:
“Fhad’s a bhios crann an cóille,
Bi’dh fóill an Cuimeineach.”
“While there are trees in a wood, there will be deceit in a Cumyn.”
We will not however assert, that the enmity of the Gaël arose from the conduct of the Cumyns in the Low country; for if we may credit tradition still current in the West Highlands, this once powerful and oppressive family gave sufficient cause, in their own territorial bounds, for the antipathy of their neighbours and vassals. The atrocities which they committed in their castles of Inverlochy, Badenoch, and other strongholds which they polluted with their crimes, at last roused the slumbering vengeance of the people; and tradition, in her vague manner, dates the downfall of this potent clan, from the time of “Cumyn’s flight from Onnich.” At what period this occurred, cannot now be exactly ascertained; but with the particulars of the story we shall close this imperfect notice:—
The Cumyns, it seems, in the plenitude of their power, paid little attention, when it suited their wishes, to the abrogation of the infamous law of Evenus, and the “mercheta mulierum” was generally spurned, when the charms of the bride happened to please the eye of the chief. It would seem that three marriages were about to take place at Onnich, a little town on the borders of Lochaber. The women were beautiful, and the men spirited and brave. The half-merk had been tendered at the gates of Inverlochy, by the bridegrooms and their friends, and the refusal of it by the chief gave them reason to apprehend the fate that was intended for them. The case excited deep interest. The day of marriage approached, and brought along with it the Lord of Badenoch and his two sons, with their usual retinue. The half-merk was again tendered, and refused. The men drew their swords, determined to guard the purity of their fair ones. A conflict ensued; friends gathered to the assistance of the injured; the two sons of Cumyn were killed; while he, with the remains of his myrmidons, betook himself to flight. The country arose and made after him, till the affair swelled to a general insurrection. All his train were sacrificed to the fury of the pursuers, many, no doubt, having more serious grievances to revenge. The flight continued till their obnoxious chief reached a hill near the present site of Fort Augustus;—where, overcome with fatigue, he was seen to sit down apparently to rest himself. On coming up to him, however, they found that the wretched man had already paid the forfeit of his crimes. He was carried down and buried on the spot where the fort now stands, which is still known to old Highlanders by the name of “Cill Chiumein,” or the burial-place of Cumyn; and the hill on which he died retains to this day the appellation of “Suidh Chiumein,” or Cumyn’s Seat. Very few of the clan are now to be found in these districts.
To return to our narrative: Wallace, who, as he conceived, among other friends, had secured the co-operation of Sir John Menteith to the measures then in agitation, for the purpose, it is supposed, of giving as early notice as possible of the arrival of Bruce, had retained near his person a young man related to Menteith,[66] who was to have been despatched with the news to Dumbarton, as soon as their future monarch should arrive, when that important fortress was to have declared in his favour.
Confiding in the arrangements thus made, Wallace, as the time appointed by Bruce drew near, collected his followers round Glasgow, and disposed of them in such a manner, as to be able to bring them together on the shortest notice,[67] For the better concealment of his design, he retired to a small lonely house at Robroyston, about three miles north-west of Glasgow. Here he waited with impatience for the night on which Bruce had appointed to meet him, little dreaming of the danger to which his intended sovereign was exposed, through the conduct of Cumyn, nor of the treachery that was hatching against himself.
The means which were employed to accomplish the destruction of Bruce, would have been of very little avail towards securing the objects intended, so long as his brother and our hero—who had now identified himself with the interest of the Brucian party—remained to head the insurrection that was expected to break out; and as all the magnificent promises of Edward had been unable to subdue the stern virtue of the patriot, his emissaries now bethought themselves of assailing the fidelity of those friends in whom he seemed chiefly to confide. Unfortunately for the cause of liberty, their allurements were but too successful; and the honour of his early friend, Sir John Menteith, gave way to the arts of the tempter.
On the night of the 5th of August 1305, Sir William, and his faithful friend Kerlé,[68] accompanied by the youth before mentioned, had betaken themselves to their lonely retreat at Robroyston;[69] to which place their steps had been watched by a spy, who, as soon as he had observed them enter, returned to his employers.