4. Comyn, it is alleged, after having been guilty of treachery towards Bruce, is invited to meet him in private conference. Bruce goes there with the dagger by his side; but Comyn, with all his consciousness of having sinned grievously against Bruce, which, according to this story, he must have felt, goes to this conference unarmed. Is this a credible account of the matter? Must we not rather agree with Dr. Lingard, who says, “There can be little doubt that all this is a fiction, invented to wash the guilt of blood from the character of Bruce, and to justify a transaction which led to the recovery of Scottish independence.”[156] A more recent writer, Mr. Pearson, says, “There can be no reasonable doubt that the crime was, to some extent, premeditated, as one in which lay the only hope of safety for a betrayed and desperate man” (vol. ii., p. 437). We believe that the murder was premeditated; but we see no proof of any betrayal.
Mr. Macpherson is doubtless right when he thinks that “this whole story has much the air of a fable,” invented long after, “to varnish over the murder of Comyn.” We are not at all bound to regard Bruce, as these Scottish writers would have us, as so hardened a hypocrite as to be blandly discussing with Edward, at Sheen, the terms of the “settlement of Scotland,” if he had already agreed with Comyn on the mode and manner of a new rebellion. We deem the simple narrative of the English chroniclers who wrote at the time to be both the more probable and also that which casts the least blame upon Bruce. It surely is most probable that the thoughts of a new rebellion only arose in his mind during his homeward journey; that, arrived in Scotland, he spent some time, as the English historians tell us, in conferring with the Scottish lords; and that it was only when he found that Comyn would not concur, and that his opposition would be fatal to the whole plan, that his final resolve was taken. He would draw Comyn into a position from which there should be no retreat. It should be, “Consent, or die!”
But the deed was now done. Bruce, by a perfidious device, had effected his purpose, and by one stroke of a dagger, had removed the last remaining obstacle from his path.[157] “The first noble in the realm,” whose opposition would have been fatal to the plan, was slain, and the conspirators had now the ground clear before them. We speak of a conspiracy, although most modern Scottish writers assume the murder to have been committed “in the heat of passion.” None, however, of the older Scottish historians so represent it; and the well‐known anecdote of Kirkpatrick refutes the idea. All Scottish writers tell us that Bruce came out of the church exclaiming, “I doubt I have killed Comyn!” “You doubt!” exclaims Kirkpatrick, “I’ll soon make sure!” (mak siccar). The exclamation is that of a man who expected some such news; not of one who was surprised or shocked. Evidently, Hemingford had ground for his statement. “He struck him with his foot, and then with his sword, as he had plotted, and then, retiring, left him to his retainers, who, pressing on him, left him for dead on the pavement.”
“The die was now cast,” adds Mr. Tytler. “Bruce had, with his own hand, assassinated the first noble in the land, in a place of tremendous sanctity. He had stained the high altar with blood, and had directed against himself the resentment of the powerful friends and vassals of the murdered earl.” “He must now either become a fugitive and an outlaw, or raise open banner against Edward.”
There can be no doubt that Bruce had weighed these chances beforehand. The inveigling his victim into “a place of tremendous sanctity,” into which he naturally came unarmed, and there falling upon him, shows clearly a “foregone conclusion.” The chief man in England, he well knew, was incapacitated by age and disease, and he had now got rid of the chief man in Scotland. These obstacles removed, for all the rest he relied on his own skill and audacity, his good sword, and his strong right arm. And the issue showed that his calculations were just and accurate; and “the power of intellect without conscience” was once more proved to be sufficient to achieve great earthly and temporary success.
He repaired forthwith to Lochmaben castle, where he was at least safe from any sudden pursuit of the Comyns. From thence he immediately despatched letters to every friend who was likely to give him any aid. Of these, the earls of Athol and Lennox, and the bishops of Glasgow, St. Andrew’s, and Athol, and about fourteen others of some rank, as knights or barons, quickly joined his standard. With these few supporters, “he had the courage,” says Fordun, “to raise his hand, not only against the king of England and his allies, but against the whole accumulated power of Scotland.”
This confession, from the pen of Scotland’s first historian—himself a profound admirer of Bruce—decides one question. It was not in obedience to Scotland’s call that Bruce took up arms;“the whole accumulated power of Scotland” was opposed to his enterprise. The cause he undertook was simply his own cause, not that of Scotland. He had said to the Scottish people—(to use the language of Matthew of Westminster)—“Make me your king, and I will deliver you from the tyranny of the English.” The response he received was the adherence of two earls, three bishops, and fourteen knights or barons. The dissentients were so numerous as to amount, in Fordun’s view, to “the whole accumulated power of Scotland.”
Still, however insignificant the support he received, and however evident it might be that the movement had no other origin or purpose than the gratification of his own personal ambition, he had now gone too far to recede. Not even flight could save him, for who in France or Italy would shelter one who had committed such sacrilege? He therefore boldly took the only course which remained open. Three or four weeks sufficed to collect together a sufficient force, and on the 24th or the 25th of March, Bruce rode to Glasgow, and from thence, on the 27th, to Scone, where, in the accustomed spot, he received from the bishops some kind of a coronation. Some robes were provided by the bishop of Glasgow; a slight coronet of gold, “probably borrowed,” says Mr. Tytler, supplied the place of the ancient crown of Scotland; and a banner wrought with the royal arms was delivered by Wishart to the new king; who, beneath it, received the homage of his few adherents, as “Robert the first.” On the second day after the ceremony a repetition of the scene took place. The earls of Fife had long enjoyed the privilege of placing the kings of Scotland, at their coronation, upon the throne. The present earl was with Edward in England; but his sister, the countess of Buchan, was an enthusiastic partisan of Bruce; and, hearing of the intended ceremony, she rushed to Scone to offer her services in her brother’s room. Bruce could not afford to slight or disappoint any adherent; and hence, simply to gratify her, the coronation was performed over again, and she was allowed the privilege upon which she set so much value.
The new king then began a progress through such parts of Scotland as were likely to favour his pretensions; seizing the royal castles, driving away the English officers, and asserting his rights as king wherever he could find an opening. But his party, Mr. Tytler admits, “was small; the Comyns possessed the greatest power in Scotland; and many earls and barons, who had suffered in the late war, preferred the quiet of submission to the hazard of insurrection and revolt.” In fact, as we have seen Fordun admitting—the rebellion was not a popular one. Bruce had a far smaller party than either Wallace or Comyn had gathered, and if a couple of years of life and vigour had been left to Edward, the suppression of this third revolt would have proved an easier task than the defeat of either of the former two. Of Bruce’s method of proceeding we have a sample in a document still extant, in which the earl of Strathern describes the mode in which he had been dealt with. This is a memorial, addressed by the earl to king Edward, in explanation of his position. In it the earl states, that as soon as Bruce was made king, he sent letters of credence to the earl, by the abbot of Inchaffrayn. The abbot urged the earl to repair forthwith to Bruce, to perform homage and fealty. “Nay,” said the earl, “I have nothing to do with him.” Thereupon Bruce and Athol, with a power, entered Strathern, and occupied Foulis. Bruce sent the earl a safe conduct, to repair to him. He did so, and on refusing to pay homage, he was carried to Inchmecolmec. Here he found Sir Robert Boyd, who advised Bruce, in his presence, to behead him, the earl, and to grant away the lands of Strathern. On hearing this, he was frightened, and did their will, and then they let him go.[158]
Tidings of all these proceedings—of Comyn’s murder; of Bruce’s coronation; and of the treason of Lennox and Athol, of Wishart, and of the two other bishops, reached Edward at Winchester, in Lent, and shortly before Easter in 1306. Had there been any truth in the stories told by Barbour, Fordun, and Wyntoun, of Bruce’s escape and flight to Scotland, in the January preceding, we should have found, long before this, traces of Edward’s foresight and energy, in the writs and other documents which such occurrences would have drawn forth. But no such traces are to be met with. This of itself abundantly proves that the narratives of Barbour and Fordun are wholly fabulous.