MacMillan 2

Robert Bruce

The War of Independence, carried forward with such dash and gallantry by William Wallace, reached its zenith in September 1297 at Stirling Bridge. Thereafter Wallace styled himself Guardian of Scotland.

In the summer of 1298 Edward of England himself moved into Scotland, inflicting a terrible defeat on Wallace and his army at Falkirk. The Guardianship of Scotland was now taken from him, or he resigned, and in his place the Scots accepted the uneasy triumvirate of Bishop William Lamberton of St. Andrews, young Robert Bruce of Carrick, and John Comyn the Red, now Lord of Badenoch. There is a darkness over Bruce's activities during Wallace's brief Guardianship, and the romantic notion that he fought with the Scots at Falkirk is scarcely credible. His father held Carlisle for Edward, their lands in England had been distrained for debts owed to the King, and three weeks before the battle Bruce asked protection for some of his men travelling on Edward's service. After Falkirk, however, the English drove him from his lands and burnt them.

Edward went home, promising the governors he left that he would come again in the spring to punish the Scots and 'put down their disobedience and malice'. But he did not come north again for three years, and in this bitter time Scotland had two governments, the English and the Guardians. The flimsy alliance of the latter was soon broken. One of Edward's agents reported that when they met at Peebles in August 1299, Bruce and Comyn quarrelled fiercely over some property left by Wallace, and that in his anger the Red Comyn took Bruce by the throat. Within a year they quarrelled again, and this time Bruce resigned in disgust.

In 1302 Robert Bruce of Carrick submitted and swore fealty to Edward, persuaded by his dying father perhaps, and certainly by the Guardians' continued allegiance to 'Toom Tabard', the 'empty coat', as John Baliol was known. If he thought Edward would support the Bruce claim to the throne, and destroy both the Baliol and Comyn factions, he received no promise of it.

Wallace returned in May 1305, and in August was betrayed near Glasgow by a Scots knight, Sir John de Menteith.  After his execution the Lanercost chronicler proclaimed :
                                   Butcher of thousands, threefold death be thine,
                                               So shall the English from thee gain relief.
                                               Scotland, be wise, and choose a nobler chief.
Seven months later, Scotland did.  Or rather, that nobler chief chose himself.

In February 1306, Robert Bruce rode to the Church of the Minorite friars in Dumfries for a council with his enemy John Comyn the Red. He was thirty-one, and since the death of his father two years before he had been head of his family and its claimant to the throne. Three times he had risen against Edward, and three times knelt in humble submission, and he had commanded the great engines which broke down the walls of Stirling. His father's debts to the English crown had been set in abeyance, his own estates had been returned to him, and when he took his seat at the Westminster parliament he had asked for, and been given, the forfeited lands of his neighbour Ingram de Umfraville. He was the King's bought man and the joint Guardian of Scotland, but his loyalty was to personal and family ambitions alone, and even as he battered at the stones of Stirling Castle for his English masters, he and William Lamberton had been joined in a 'treasonable band' against them. Edward may have heard of this, for towards the end of 1305 he took away the Umfraville lands and gave them back to Ingram, removed Bruce from the Guardianship, and once more demanded payment of those questionable debts. It was a time for caution or boldness, and which the cunning and devious Earl of Carrick chose may explain his bloody meeting with Comyn, or make it totally incomprehensible.

Barbour said that Bruce and his few followers came to Dumfries 'intent that he should speedily avenge the other's treachery', but the suggestion seems ridiculous. No man deciding upon the removal of a rival would be insane enough to select a church for the murder. On the other hand, the mistrust between the two men was so great that only in church together would each feel safe, and only there might one be easily betrayed. Exonerated by his death, the Comyn's intentions have never been examined. Barbour said that Carrick had already secured his support for the band with Lamberton, and that the Badenoch lord revealed it to Edward, which is of course possible. More probably the meeting in the Greyfriars' church was to explain the band to Comyn and command his upport. Whatever the murky reasons, the outcome was more decisive than anything Bruce might have imagined.

There was an angry quarrel as they stood alone, a dagger drawn and thrust into Comyn's body. Bruce came out of the church and told his men that he thought he had slain the Red Comyn. 'You think?' asked his friend Roger de Kirkpatrick, 'then I'll make sure', and went into the church with others. Some of Comyn's men may also have been outside the door (it is hard to believe he would have come alone), for it is said that his uncle at once drew a sword, and was quickly killed when it glanced from the armour beneath Bruce's cloak. Inside the church, Kirkpatrick's men drove away the friars who had carried Comyn to the altar, and dispatched the wounded man with their daggers.

There were many partisan accounts of the murder, Scots and English, and if the Minorite friars saw and heard what truly happened their mouths were perhaps stopped by Bruce's generous patronage later.  As Barbour said :
                                                    Howsoever the quarrel fell,
                                                    He died therby, I know full well.

And soon all Europe would know. The crime was abominable, and sacrilege detestable. For most men, perhaps all men but Bruce at that moment, it would have meant an end to ambition, to life itself if it could not be sustained in an outlaw's miserable and excommunicated existence. There was a brief moment only for decision as he stood outside the church door, listening to the clanking of armour inside, the outraged cries of the Franciscans. His one powerful rival was dying. There was his secret band with Lamberton, but he could not know what effect the murder would have upon the bishop. The speed with which he acted makes a strong case for premeditation, or perhaps shows a desperate spirit breaking from its dissembling past and grasping the future by the throat. Bruce did not become a patriot above the body of Red Comyn. The liberty of Scotland was now the only cause that might preserve his own.

He rode straight to Glasgow, falling upon his knees before Bishop Wishart, asking for absolution. With the amoral acumen Wishart relied upon in moments of crisis, he readily gave it, and followed it with a rousing sermon of support from his pulpit. On Palm Sunday, five weeks after Comyn's murder, Bruce was in Scone and king.

Extracted from "The Lion in the North", by John Prebble


	Robert Bruce The War of Independence, carried forward with such dash and gallantry by William Wallace, reached its zenith in September 1297 at Stirling Bridge. Thereafter Wallace styled himself Guardian of Scotland. In the summer of 1298 Edward of England himself moved into Scotland, inflicting a terrible defeat on Wallace and his army at Falkirk. The Guardianship of Scotland was now taken from him, or he resigned, and in his place the Scots accepted the uneasy triumvirate of Bishop William Lamberton of St. Andrews, young Robert Bruce of Carrick, and John Comyn the Red, now Lord of Badenoch. There is a darkness over Bruce's activities during Wallace's brief Guardianship, and the romantic notion that he fought with the Scots at Falkirk is scarcely credible. His father held Carlisle for Edward, their lands in England had been distrained for debts owed to the King, and three weeks before the battle Bruce asked protection for some of his men travelling on Edward's service. After Falkirk, however, the English drove him from his lands and burnt them. Edward went home, promising the governors he left that he would come again in the spring to punish the Scots and 'put down their disobedience and malice'. But he did not come north again for three years, and in this bitter time Scotland had two governments, the English and the Guardians. The flimsy alliance of the latter was soon broken. One of Edward's agents reported that when they met at Peebles in August 1299, Bruce and Comyn quarrelled fiercely over some property left by Wallace, and that in his anger the Red Comyn took Bruce by the throat. Within a year they quarrelled again, and this time Bruce resigned in disgust. In 1302 Robert Bruce of Carrick submitted and swore fealty to Edward, persuaded by his dying father perhaps, and certainly by the Guardians' continued allegiance to 'Toom Tabard', the 'empty coat', as John Baliol was known. If he thought Edward would support the Bruce claim to the throne, and destroy both the Baliol and Comyn factions, he received no promise of it. Wallace returned in May 1305, and in August was betrayed near Glasgow by a Scots knight, Sir John de Menteith. After his execution the Lanercost chronicler proclaimed : Butcher of thousands, threefold death be thine, So shall the English from thee gain relief. Scotland, be wise, and choose a nobler chief. Seven months later, Scotland did. Or rather, that nobler chief chose himself. In February 1306, Robert Bruce rode to the Church of the Minorite friars in Dumfries for a council with his enemy John Comyn the Red. He was thirty-one, and since the death of his father two years before he had been head of his family and its claimant to the throne. Three times he had risen against Edward, and three times knelt in humble submission, and he had commanded the great engines which broke down the walls of Stirling. His father's debts to the English crown had been set in abeyance, his own estates had been returned to him, and when he took his seat at the Westminster parliament he had asked for, and been given, the forfeited lands of his neighbour Ingram de Umfraville. He was the King's bought man and the joint Guardian of Scotland, but his loyalty was to personal and family ambitions alone, and even as he battered at the stones of Stirling Castle for his English masters, he and William Lamberton had been joined in a 'treasonable band' against them. Edward may have heard of this, for towards the end of 1305 he took away the Umfraville lands and gave them back to Ingram, removed Bruce from the Guardianship, and once more demanded payment of those questionable debts. It was a time for caution or boldness, and which the cunning and devious Earl of Carrick chose may explain his bloody meeting with Comyn, or make it totally incomprehensible. Barbour said that Bruce and his few followers came to Dumfries 'intent that he should speedily avenge the other's treachery', but the suggestion seems ridiculous. No man deciding upon the removal of a rival would be insane enough to select a church for the murder. On the other hand, the mistrust between the two men was so great that only in church together would each feel safe, and only there might one be easily betrayed. Exonerated by his death, the Comyn's intentions have never been examined. Barbour said that Carrick had already secured his support for the band with Lamberton, and that the Badenoch lord revealed it to Edward, which is of course possible. More probably the meeting in the Greyfriars' church was to explain the band to Comyn and command his upport. Whatever the murky reasons, the outcome was more decisive than anything Bruce might have imagined. There was an angry quarrel as they stood alone, a dagger drawn and thrust into Comyn's body. Bruce came out of the church and told his men that he thought he had slain the Red Comyn. 'You think?' asked his friend Roger de Kirkpatrick, 'then I'll make sure', and went into the church with others. Some of Comyn's men may also have been outside the door (it is hard to believe he would have come alone), for it is said that his uncle at once drew a sword, and was quickly killed when it glanced from the armour beneath Bruce's cloak. Inside the church, Kirkpatrick's men drove away the friars who had carried Comyn to the altar, and dispatched the wounded man with their daggers. There were many partisan accounts of the murder, Scots and English, and if the Minorite friars saw and heard what truly happened their mouths were perhaps stopped by Bruce's generous patronage later. As Barbour said : Howsoever the quarrel fell, He died therby, I know full well. And soon all Europe would know. The crime was abominable, and sacrilege detestable. For most men, perhaps all men but Bruce at that moment, it would have meant an end to ambition, to life itself if it could not be sustained in an outlaw's miserable and excommunicated existence. There was a brief moment only for decision as he stood outside the church door, listening to the clanking of armour inside, the outraged cries of the Franciscans. His one powerful rival was dying. There was his secret band with Lamberton, but he could not know what effect the murder would have upon the bishop. The speed with which he acted makes a strong case for premeditation, or perhaps shows a desperate spirit breaking from its dissembling past and grasping the future by the throat. Bruce did not become a patriot above the body of Red Comyn. The liberty of Scotland was now the only cause that might preserve his own. He rode straight to Glasgow, falling upon his knees before Bishop Wishart, asking for absolution. With the amoral acumen Wishart relied upon in moments of crisis, he readily gave it, and followed it with a rousing sermon of support from his pulpit. On Palm Sunday, five weeks after Comyn's murder, Bruce was in Scone and king. Extracted from "The Lion in the North", by John Prebble