friend of Edward’s. He accompanied him in his visit to Palestine; he
was on such terms of familiarity with him (as we have seen in a former
page) as to apply to him for a loan of money; and we observe that in
1300, when the king returned from Scotland, he took up his abode “at
Holme Cultram, on the border.” Now Holme Cultram is the place where
_this_ Robert de Brus lies buried. He was governor of Carlisle, and
we have no doubt that it was by his invitation that Edward determined
to spend some time in this home on the border. This de Brus married
the countess of Carrick, and thus added another Scottish estate to his
large English inheritance. He was always loyal to the English crown;
and, accordingly, when the Scottish parliament of 1294-5 occupied
itself in confiscating the estates of all who adhered to Edward, the
lordship of Annandale was taken from de Brus. “During the contest
of 1295-6, this Bruce, son to the competitor, possessed of large
estates in England, continued faithful to Edward.”[140] And when
Baliol resigned the crown, and Edward took possession of Scotland, he
nominated “his dear and faithful Robert de Brus, earl of Carrick, _and
his son_, to receive to his peace the inhabitants of Annandale.” A
year or two later, we find him fighting in the English army, against
Wallace, at Falkirk.[141] This, the second Robert de Brus of the
three, seems to have lived and died governor of Carlisle, and sheriff
of Cumberland, sitting in the English parliaments; and his grave, like
his father’s, was made on English soil.
His son, the grandson of the competitor, was born, there seems no room
to doubt, in or near Westminster, on the 11th of July, 1274.[142]
This date, of itself, indicates the place of his birth, for at
that time his father and mother must have been in the metropolis,
waiting for Edward’s arrival and his coronation. The king was known
to be approaching the coast, and, a few days after, he landed. The
preparations for the ceremony and the feast had been going on for many
weeks previous, and the king of Scotland, the duke of Bretagne, the
archbishop, and all the barons of England, were gathered together to
greet his arrival. His own personal friend, Bruce, who had accompanied
him to Palestine, and who returned the year previous, could not, we may
be sure, be absent. Nor was it at all probable that his vivacious lady,
whose promptitude and decision had been shown, the previous year, in
“taking to herself a husband,”[143] would prefer to remain in silence
and solitude in her Scottish home, while one of the greatest ceremonies
of the time was proceeding, in which her husband had a right to take a
prominent part. Assuredly this Bruce, the second of the three, and his
wife, the countess of Carrick, were in Westminster in July, 1274, and
hence in that city, about three weeks before the king’s arrival, the
son, who afterwards became king of Scotland, was born.
When rising out of boyhood into man’s estate, we find young Bruce in
Edward’s court. His father, who was intimate enough with the king to
ask him to lend him forty pounds,[144] would find no difficulty in
introducing, as we are told he did, his son, when growing up, to a post
in the royal household.[145] That the young Bruce often spent a summer
at Turnberry, or at Holme Cultram, we can easily imagine; but his
education he gained, we doubt not, as he received his birth, in or near
Westminster; with occasional visits to others of the royal palaces.
But the events of 1290-1292 cannot have passed unheeded by the young
scion of a Norman house. His grandfather, the inheritor of ninety‐four
lordships in Yorkshire, had preferred a claim to be declared king
of Scotland, and in that claim the young son of the earl of Carrick
must have felt the deepest interest. It created a desire which seems
never to have left the young de Brus. “The ideal perfection of the
knight‐errant,” says Sir Walter Scott, “was to wander from land to
land in quest of renown; to gain earldoms, nay, kingdoms, by the
sword.” This idea must have been often present in the young de Brus’s
mind.[146] He was empowered, as we have just seen, with his father, “to
receive into the king’s peace the inhabitants of Annandale.” And from
this date, 1296, until 1306, he continued to profess a loyal adherence
to the crown of England. But there was an evident vacillation and
hesitation in his course. He is claimed, more than once or twice, as
a favourer of the insurgents who kept Scotland in commotion from 1297
to 1304. In truth, his position differed somewhat from that of his
father and grandfather. In 1292 it was formally and solemnly adjudged
that the right of John Baliol was superior to that of Robert de Brus.
But in 1296 Baliol resigned the crown, and the king of England became
king of Scotland also. The thought, therefore, could scarcely be absent
from young de Brus’s mind, that if the two realms were again severed,
and if Scotland became once more an independent kingdom, _he_, Robert
de Brus, would surely be one of those who might advance the strongest
title,—Baliol being now a refugee in France.
This thought seems to reveal itself at several stages of this history.
Thus, when in 1297 Wallace raised the standard of rebellion, de Brus
was called on to take his side. “His conduct,” says Mr. Tytler, “was
vacillating and inconsistent.” The wardens of the marches called upon
him to take his place under the king’s standard. He went, therefore,
to Carlisle, and took a solemn oath to be faithful to the king. To
prove his fidelity, he ravaged the estates of Sir William Douglas, who
was then with Wallace; seized his wife and children, and carried them
to Annandale. Having thus defeated suspicion, and saved his estates,
he privately assembled his father’s retainers, talked lightly of “a
foolish oath” he had taken, from which he hoped the pope would absolve
him, and urged them to follow him, and join the insurgent forces.[147]
During the next seven years we remark the same hesitating and doubtful
course.
De Brus was an English baron; his father and his grandfather died on
their English estates, and were buried in English graves. In Scotland
they were men of note, men of power; but there were greater men in
Scotland than they. Accordingly, when Wallace had driven the English
out of Scotland, and a sort of “regency” was established, we hear of
Comyn, and the earl of Buchan, and the bishop of St. Andrew’s acting as
“regents,” and treating with Edward; but never do we meet with de Brus,
either in the field or in the cabinet—either leading an armed force
or placing himself at the head of a regency. His name, we believe, is
once or twice used, but no proof is given that his concurrence had been
obtained. From all open collision with the English government de Brus
appears to have shrunk. And hence, when the strife of 1300-1304 came
to an end, this cautious politician appeared to have saved himself
from damage. Mr. Tytler observes that “Bruce, whose conduct had been
_consistent only upon selfish principles_, found himself, when compared
with other Scottish barons, in an enviable situation. He had preserved
his great estates; his rivals were overpowered; and, on any new
emergency occurring, the way was partly cleared for his own claim to
the crown.”[148] Writers of a later date—writers whose object was to
represent Bruce as a patriot—have put forward his name as concerned,
with Comyn, Soulis, and others, in fighting the battle of Scottish
independence; but it is very clear that Bruce himself contrived to make
Edward regard him as a stedfast and sincere friend. On his father’s
death, in 1304, he succeeded to the estates, and took the usual
oaths of fealty; being released, by the favour of Edward, from the
scutage payable to the feudal lord. And in that same year a letter was
addressed to him by the king, in the following terms:—
“To our faithful and loyal Robert de Brus, earl of Carrick, and to all
other our good people who are in his company, greeting:—We have heard
that it is agreed between you and John de Segrave, and our other good
people of his company, to follow the enemy; and that you desire we
should hold you excused if you come not to us on the day appointed:
know that for the great diligence and care which you have used in our
affairs, and because you are thus agreed to follow the enemy, we thank
you as heartily as we can; and we pray and require especially, as we
confide in you, that ye put an end to this affair before ye leave these
parts.”[149]
Thus, for a series of years, from 1296 to 1304, did de Brus succeed
in making the king believe that, like his father and his grandfather,
he was a faithful adherent of the English crown. And accordingly,
when 1305 came, and all Scotland, from the Solway to the Orkneys,
surrendered to the English king, he, desiring above all things peace
and contentment, “placed himself chiefly in the hands of the bishop
of St. Andrew’s, of John de Moubray, and of Robert de Brus.”[150] The
last of the three was an Englishman, and also a Scottish baron. He was
in the same position as our dukes of Sutherland of the present day,
who are great lords in Staffordshire and other English counties, but
one of whom, marrying a Scotch countess, added to his large English
possessions almost a whole Scottish county.
That this Robert de Brus, on coming to man’s estate, and pondering the
prospect before him, did often think upon his position with reference
to the Scottish crown, is probable enough, and is suggested by several
passages in his history. But so thinking, he would immediately discern
three obstacles:—1. The declared superiority of Baliol’s claim, which
had been recognized at the time of the arbitration. 2. Next, springing
from the same root,—Margaret, the eldest daughter of David, earl of
Huntingdon,—there stood John Comyn, a more potent baron in Scotland
than he, and one who had, for five or six years past, acted as regent
of the kingdom. How could de Brus expect that a Comyn would permit
a descendant of David’s _second_ daughter to take the Scottish crown
in his presence?[151] But, 3, there stood in his way the _de facto_
king of Scotland, Edward, to whom he, de Brus, and every lord in
Scotland, had sworn fealty; and whose strong right arm showed, as yet,
no signs of relinquishing so important an acquisition. De Brus could
not forget that any appearance of treason on his part, in Scotland,
would at once endanger his ninety‐four English lordships; and in spite
of all that some Scottish historians have said, we feel satisfied, by
Edward’s letter just cited, and by Bruce’s employment to settle “the
pacification of Scotland,” that the king regarded him, up to the close
of 1305, as “our dear and faithful Robert de Brus.”
But in October or November of that year, “having sworn upon the Holy
Gospels” that he “would faithfully keep and observe the ordinances
of the pacification of Scotland, Bruce took leave of the king, and
returned home, with great appearance of joy and satisfaction.” No
one pretends that the king had given him any cause for discontent or
alienation. Yet every Scottish historian that has ever written on the
subject has avowed his conviction that this swearing on the gospels
was a deliberate perjury, and that the show of “joy and satisfaction”
was wholly hypocritical. They all assure us that at this very time
Bruce was planning and conspiring, with various persons, to obtain for
himself the crown of Scotland.
In this temper of mind he began his journey homewards. He would direct
his course, naturally, first to Holme Cultram, in Cumberland, where his
father had, but a year or two before, been buried. From Holme Cultram
a vessel would carry him in two or three hours to Dumfries, from whence
an hour’s ride would bring him to his Scottish home at Lochmaben.
During his long ride from Sheen and from London, his thoughts would
inevitably turn to those three obstacles, of which we have spoken,
which stood between him and the crown of Scotland; and we know now what
must have been his thoughts. It is easy to describe them, without any
risk of error.
Baliol, he knew, had pledged himself, three or four years before,
not to meddle any further in the affairs of Scotland; nor had he any
concealed intentions of another kind. Voluntarily, and expressing his
own feelings, he had declared that he would never again set foot in a
country which had treated him so unjustly. Baliol, therefore, who had
been an obstacle in times past, might now be dismissed from view; he
could obstruct the path no longer.
A more serious question was that which concerned Edward himself; but
Bruce had latterly been spending much time in the king’s company, and
he had learnt enough to satisfy him that the great warrior had seen the
last of his battle‐fields. Edward was now in his sixty‐seventh year.
The length of his lower limbs had always been the one fault in his
otherwise perfect symmetry, and those limbs now began to fail him. In
a public ceremonial, a few months after this, the king’s strength gave
way before his task had been performed. Bruce might confidently assure
himself that, whatever might happen, the victor of Falkirk would never
again be found at the head of an army on the soil of Scotland. As for
the young prince, he was not worth a thought.
Two principal obstacles, then, were vanishing out of his way, and
the crisis, the present moment, was all‐important. A plan of a new
English government had just been agreed upon, but it had still to be
constructed and established. If that government should be allowed to
develope itself, to assume the reins, and to take the rule of Scotland
into its hands, a new rebellion might be almost a hopeless task. Now,
if ever—_now_, with ten times more hope than two years later—_now_,
must the effort be made.
But, though two obstacles had almost vanished, the third still
remained. Comyn was “the first noble in the realm.”[152] His power in
Scotland was far greater than that of Bruce. He had acted, too, as
regent of Scotland for some five years past. Upon the course he should
now take, the success of any new attempt must mainly depend. He had but
recently applied for the king’s pardon, and had received it. He had,
at the same time, given a new oath of fealty to the king. What would
he now do? Should he adhere to his oath, and give his help to put down
a new insurrection, what reasonable prospect of success would there
be? Yet how could Bruce expect Comyn, after struggling in vain against
English rule for five years, now to incur the terrible risk of a new
rebellion? and that not for himself, but for another? The case seemed
hopeless. What, then, was to be done?
Such thoughts as these, we cannot for a moment doubt, must have passed
through Bruce’s mind in his journey from Sheen to Scotland, in October
and November, 1305. The question seemed to reduce itself within the
smallest limits: “Comyn, what will he do? And, supposing he refuses to
aid us in a new rebellion, by what means can we thrust him out of our
way?”
The answer to this question, the final resolve, we know to have been
an evil one. Bruce had already entangled himself in the guilt of
deception and hypocrisy, but now he must go much further. The great
prize of a crown was suspended before him, and he would hesitate at
nothing to gain it.
His decision was formed: if Comyn would obstruct his course—if Comyn
would neither act nor permit others to act, then Comyn must be got rid
of. A settled plan of deliberate assassination was the final result of
these long cogitations.
Four of the principal English chroniclers of the time, besides divers
others, give us the result.
Walter Hemingford, one of the best of the English historians, says—
“Robert de Brus, grandson of that Brus who had disputed with Baliol
the crown of Scotland,” “relying on perverse counsel, aspired to the
kingdom, and fearing lord John Comyn, a powerful noble, and faithful
to the king,” “he sent to him with treacherous intent two of his
brothers, Thomas and Nigel, asking him to meet him at Dumfries, to
treat of certain matters; and he, suspecting no evil, came to him to
the church of the Friars’ Minors. And when they were conversing, as
it seemed, with peaceful words, all at once altering his mien and
changing his language, he began to inveigh against him, accusing him of
having injured him in the king’s estimation. And when Comyn attempted
to reply, the other would not hear him, but, _as he had plotted_, he
struck him with his foot, and then with his sword; and, retiring, left
him to his retainers, who, pressing on him, left him for dead on the
pavement of the altar.”
The “Chronicle of Lanercost,” written at the time and in the
neighbourhood, thus records the fact:—
“Lord Robert Brus, earl of Carrick, guilefully sent a message to lord
John Comyn, asking him to come and have an interview with him at the
house of the Friars’ Minors in Dumfries; and when he had come, he slew
him in the church, and also lord Robert Comyn, his uncle.”
Matthew of Westminster is another contemporary historian, who shows
that he had access to the best sources of information. He thus
describes the murder:—
“Robert Bruce, earl of Carrick, first secretly, and afterwards more
openly, conferred with some of the Scottish nobles, saying, ‘Ye know
that by right this kingdom belongs to me; and this nation intended to
have crowned my grandfather king, had not the cunning of the king of
England disappointed them. But now, if ye will crown me king, I will
deliver this kingdom and people from the tyranny of the English.’ To
this many consented. But when he asked John Comyn, a noble and powerful
knight, he resolutely replied that he did not consent. He added, ‘All
the world knows that the king of England has four times subdued our
country, and that we all, both knights and clergy, have sworn fealty to
him. Far be it from me to consent to this perjury, I will not burden
my soul with it.’ Bruce begins to persuade, Comyn continues to object;
the one threatens, the other withstands. At length, Bruce, drawing his
sword, strikes Comyn, who was unarmed. Comyn fell, grasping the sword;
Bruce’s attendants rushed in and gave Comyn fresh wounds. This took
place at Dumfries, in the church of the Friars’ Minors.”
Peter Langtoft, another writer of the time, thus describes the scene:—
“He sent for John Comyn, the lord of Badenoch:
To Dumfries should he come, unto the Minors’ kirke:
A speking there they had: the Comyn will not worke,
Nor do after the saying of Robert the Bruse.
Away he ’gan him drawe; his conseil to refuse:
Robert, with a knife, the Comyn there he smote;
Through which wound his life he lost, well I wote.
He went to the high altar, and stood and rested him there;
Came Robert’s squire, and wounded him well more;
For he will not consent to raise no follye,
Nor do as he meant, to gin to make partie
Against king Edward, Scotland to dereyne.”
These four writers are all contemporary witnesses; they all had
access to the best sources of information, and they wrote at the very
time. Many other and similar accounts might be cited, but these are
sufficient.
Almost one hundred years after, the three principal Scottish
historians—Barbour, Fordun, and Wyntoun—arose in Scotland. They had to
write the history of their country, but their only materials consisted
of Scottish traditions and English chronicles. Barbour, the first of
these, had a pension granted to him out of the Scottish exchequer, “for
compiling the book of the deeds of king Robert the First.” The work
assigned to him evidently was to represent the Bruce as a hero, and, as
far as possible, a “blameless king.”
After him followed Fordun and Wyntoun, and, still later, Hector Boece.
No one of these could pretend to be a contemporary—all gave from
tradition such facts as the Scottish people demanded of them. The
general result is a story of this kind:—
That Comyn and Bruce had had conferences, to discuss the prospects of
a new rebellion, in which Comyn was to support Bruce, and to receive
his, Bruce’s, estates as a reward. That this agreement was put into an
“endentur,” and sealed. That Comyn, being in Scotland, rode off to the
king (who, at the time indicated, was in Dorset or Hants) and showed
him the “endentur,” and left it with him. That thereupon the king
summoned a parliament, and Bruce came up from Scotland to attend it.
That Edward, having Bruce in town, was about to seize him, when the
earl of Gloucester gave him warning, and he fled. That, on his way to
Scotland, he met a messenger, whom he killed, and on whose person he
found letters from Comyn to Edward. That, thus armed, and indignant at
Comyn’s treachery, he went to Dumfries, met Comyn in the church of the
Friars’ Minors, where he upbraided him, and at last slew him.
Such is the story, which appeared a century after the time in which the
events occurred, and from the pen of men engaged to represent Bruce as
a hero. We shall give, first of all, a Scottish criticism on the whole
romance—the reasonable remarks of Mr. David Macpherson, the editor of
_Andrew Wyntoun’s Chronicle:—_
“This whole story of the transactions of Bruce with Comyn has much
the air of a fable contrived to varnish over the murder, and to make
it appear an act of justice in Bruce, whose splendid actions had so
prepossessed the people in his favour that they were determined not
to believe that he could do wrong. The story has this sure mark of
fable—that the later writers give us more circumstances than the
earlier ones. Barbour has nothing of the earl of Gloucester, nor of
Comyn’s messenger being intercepted and put to death, which are found
in Fordun. In Bower’s time the tale was embellished with the devil’s
consultation, and his wise scheme of inspiring Comyn to betray Bruce;
together with the fall of snow, and the ingenious device of shoeing the
horses backward. It was also thought proper to augment his retinue with
a groom, and to allow two days more for the journey. Nothing remained
for Hector Boece but to turn the earl of Gloucester’s pennies into
two pieces of gold, and to make a brother for Bruce, whom he calls
David.”[153]
One or two other remarks may be added:—
1. All the Scottish writers speak of a parliament being summoned, in
order to bring Bruce back to London.[154] Now we know that this is a
fiction. No such parliament was ever held, or called.
2. Bruce having taken leave of the king, at the end of October, and
returned home to Scotland, Comyn, whose presence in England at that
time is nowhere to be traced, is said to go to the king, and to show
him the “endentur.” Whereupon Bruce, who had returned to Scotland, is
to be suddenly brought back again, that the king may charge him with
his treason. Now the journey, at that time, occupied from fifteen to
twenty days. Winchelsey, a few years earlier, described it as requiring
twenty. Barbour says that Bruce accomplished it in fifteen.[155] Here
we have, first, Comyn’s “riding off to the king”; then, the king’s
issue of a summons, to be sent to Scotland to Bruce; then, the return
of Bruce to England, to attend a parliament; and finally, Bruce’s
flight back into Scotland—which last, of itself, his own historian
says, occupied fifteen days. It cannot be necessary to add that all
this riding backward and forward, from England to Scotland, and from
Scotland to England, is a romance, not a history.
3. Had the king been warned beforehand of Bruce’s treachery, he would
have spoken of it. It would have been recorded in some of the English
chronicles. No reason can be imagined why such a fact, if known,
should have been kept secret by any one. Bruce’s flight, too, had it
ever happened, would have alarmed Edward, and precautions would have
been taken. But it is quite clear that when Edward heard of Bruce’s
treason, and of the assassination of Comyn, the news came upon him as
a surprise. Neither he nor the people of England had any previous
expectation of it. “Nothing,” says Dr. Henry, “could exceed the
surprise and indignation of Edward, when he heard of this revolution.”
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.