Archive for the ‘Politics’ Category

John Balliol is a name largely unknown to Americans, but he had the fortune–good or bad–to be briefly king of Scotland.

John Balliol’s kingship came via several avenues.  The first was the luck of the draw: he just so happened to be born a great-great-great grandson of David I of Scotland.  I’m guessing most of us don’t even know the names of our great-great-great grandfathers, but in his case, such a name was vitally important to an entire nation; in fact, to two, as we’ll see.

The second factor in John Balliol’s kingship was a series of unfortunate deaths.  He would have lived part of his life under the rule of Alexander III of Scotland.  Alexander had three children, all of whom preceded him in death: David, the younger son, in 1281, Margaret, Queen of Norway, in childbirth 1283; and the elder brother, Prince Alexander, in 1284.  This left Alexander’s young granddaughter, Margaret, known as The Maid of Norway, as his sole heir.  With Alexander’s wife and three children all dead, and a country in need of an heir, Alexander re-married.  His race home to his new bride, despite adverse weather, ironically, led to his death when his horse fell over a cliff in the dark, and exactly the situation a new wife was supposed to prevent. 

Alexander’s young granddaughter, three or four years of age when Alexander died, was sent from Norway, in 1290, to take the throne of Scotland.  Not only did she become ill on the voyage, but a storm blew her ship off course.  She died on September 26, 1290 on Orkney Island, at the age of 7.

This left a country that had, just a few short years before, had a monarch and four clear heirs, with no obvious successor to the throne.

Into this void stepped thirteen men, all claiming the right of succession.  Maybe six of these had strong claims, with Robert Bruce, “the Competitor,” grandfather of the better known Robert the Bruce, Robert I of Scotland, and John Balliol having the strongest.  John Balliol and his three older brothers–all of whom had predeceased him, leaving him as the possible heir–were descended from an elder daughter of the line of King David, while Bruce was descended from a second daughter, but a generation closer to David I.

Still, civil war threatened to break out.  The Scots invited Edward I, Edward Longshanks, King of England, to settle the matter.  Edward chose John Balliol, viewing him as the weaker and more easily controlled man.  So on the 17th of November, 1292, Balliol became king of Scotland. 

His reign was short-lived.

Fortunately for Scotland, perhaps unfortunately for John himself, neither he nor Scotland was quite as weak as Longshanks expected.  At first, homage to Edward I, as the self-declared Lord Paramount of Scotland, was forced from the Scottish nobility.  (Does anyone besides me sense a medieval Death Star hovering at the border?  Actually, it was called a trebuchet in those times.)  Edward did his best to undermine John’s authority and humiliate him, demanding and receiving legal authority, money, and troops.

In 1294, Edward demanded Scottish troops for his war against France, setting a deadline of September 1. Scotland’s response was to immediately enter their own negotiations both with France and Norway.  In October of 1294, John Balliol openly defied Edward.  By the summer of 1295, Edward became aware of Scotland’s negotiations with France, and, being a medieval king, did what medieval kings (usually) did best: he gathered his troops to wage war. 

1296 saw the outbreak of hostilities, as Edward Longshanks, in a brief respite from his war against France, drove his army north to conquer the Scots.

John Balliol was known in his own lifetime by, and has come down through history with, the moniker Toom Tabard, meaning empty coat.  It stems from the incident at his capture and forced abdication on July 10, 1296, in which Edward Longshanks, ever on the lookout for a good chance to humiliate a man, ripped the heraldic insignia from Balliol’s tabard, or tunic.

Balliol’s brief kingship ended with capture of himself and his son by Longshanks, and his forced abdication on July 10, 1296.  He was imprisoned  in England’s Tower of London, released in 1299 briefly into the custody of the Pope, and in 1301, allowed to go to his estates in France, where he lived out the rest of his life in exile.

One of the difficulties of researching medieval times is that of repetitive names, and people with a multitude of names.  In medieval Scotland, there are an abundance of Williams, Alexanders, and Roberts.  Even adding last names doesn’t always help. 

Take the name John Comyn.  In the time of Robert Bruce, alone, there are several of them important enough to have come down in history.  The best known is the John Comyn, Guardian of Scotland, slain by Bruce before the altar of Greyfriars Kirk.  That John Comyn is also known as John III Comyn, Lord of Badenoch, and the Red Comyn. 

His father, John II Comyn, also Lord of Badenoch, also a Guardian of Scotland at one stage, was the Black Comyn,  and, like his son, fought for the crown of Scotland with a Robert Bruce–although with Robert Bruce’s grandfather,also Robert Bruce,  known as “The Competitor,” in the late 1200’s, whereas John III, the Red Comyn, fought with the younger Robert Bruce, of Braveheart and Bannockburn fame.

Home of the Comyn Family

Home of the Comyn Family

Current with this John Comyn was his cousin, John Comyn, differentiated by  the title Earl of Buchan.  In an interesting, perhaps sad, twist, this John Comyn, Earl of Buchan, though a great supporter of John Baliol and enemy of Robert Bruce, was also the husband of the remarkable Isobel MacDuff, Countess of Buchan, who left her husband to ride north and claim the MacDuff family’s traditional role of crowning the Kings of Scotland, by placing the crown on Robert Bruce’s head, shortly after he murdered her husband’s cousin, John Comyn, at Greyfriars Kirk.

Confused yet?

Actually, writing it all out has made it all much clearer.  Now for my second act… on to the Alexander Comyns and Alexander MacDougalls!

February 10 is the day Robert Bruce killed John Comyn in front of the altar of Greyfriars Kirk in Dumfries, in 1306.  The two families, Bruces and Comyns, had long been at odds over the throne of Scotland, and in the days after John Baliol’s failed kingship, the rivalry renewed.  Bruce and John Comyn agreed to meet at Greyfriars to discuss matters. 

Whether Bruce went with the intention of killing Comyn, or whether the crime was committed in the heat of an argument is unknown, but the end result is remembered 700 years later: Robert the Bruce, Scotland’s greatest king, killed a man in front of an altar on holy ground.  The deed launched him on a more abrupt road to kingship and war with England than he most likely intended.

Killing was not an unusual matter in medieval life.  Killing a man on holy ground, however, was a serious matter.  Bruce knew that he would be ex-communicated for it, and, more importantly, that an ex-communicated man cannot be crowned king.  His answer was the race to Scone, where he was crowned before the Pope could get the news and proceed with the ex-communication.

The killing at Greyfriars also cemented some of the great families of Scotland against Bruce as king, and leading them to side with England in the years leading up to Bannockburn.  Who’s to say what would have happened, had tempers stayed cool at Greyfriars that day.  Would Scotland have had an easier time, had the Comyns and their kin not turned against Bruce?  Or would Scotland have had a harder time, with continued infighting amongst the clans?  Regardless, the incident stands out as a major event in the life of Robert Bruce and the history of Scotland.

More on John Comyn tomorrow.

For some background information on this article, it is important to know that Bruce lived from 1274 until 1329,  200 years before Martin Luther’s 95 Theses and before Henry VIII made his split from the Catholic Church.  In other words, in his day to be Christian was to be Catholic.

And Bruce himself seems to have been a rather devout Catholic.  He counted among his close friends and associates Bishops Lamberton and Wishart, and Bernard de Linton, Abbot of Arbroath.  He carried the relics of both St. Columba and St. Fillan to the Battle of Bannockburn in June of 1314.   And on the morning of the main battle, Bruce started the day with Mass, his army of thousands on its knees before Maurice, the blind and barefoot abbot of Inchaffray, not only saying Mass, but receiving absolution.  The Declaration of Arbroath, sent to the Pope in 1320, compares Bruce to the Biblical figures of Joshua and Judas Maccabeus, who led their people against oppressors.  One of his unfulfilled dreams was to go on a Crusade.  Such was his wish that, though he was unable to fulfill it himself, he exhorted a promise from his closest friend, James Douglas, that, after Bruce’s death, James would take his, Bruce’s, heart on Crusade.  This James Douglas did, carrying Bruce’s heart in a silver casket. 

As to excommunication, it is a formal declaration of exclusion from the community, and within the Catholic Church typically means one is no longer allowed to partake of communion. 

For a devout Catholic, Robert Bruce had a bad knack for getting ex-communicated.  It started with the murder of John Comyn, the Red Comyn, Lord of Badenoch (yes, these were all the same man– just to be clear which of several John Comyns we’re talking about) before the altar of Greyfriars Church in 1306.  In Blue Bells of Scotland, Shawn expresses disbelief that a man should be excommunicated for killing, as it seems, to him, to be the national pastime of medieval Scotland.  And it is true that the real issue was not so much the killing, as the killing of a man on holy ground.

The thing to remember about excommunication is that it’s like drenched.  You can’t get more drenched, and you can’t get more excommunicated.  Unlike drenchings, though, excommunication does not ‘dry out.’  You remain so until it is formally lifted.  And this is why it’s an almost amusing story, that in 1317, with the former excommunication never having been lifted, and no more severe penalties to inflict, Pope John XXII once again excommunicated Bruce.  This time, however, he applied the punishment to all of Bruce’s associates, the whole of Scotland, really, and furthermore, declared that the prelates of York and London were to repeat the excommunication ceremony every single Sunday and every holy day for a whole year.  As if a drenched man might become even more drenched.

Interestingly, many sources credit the Pope’s ridiculous order as the inspiration for the Scottish nobles writing the Declaration of Arbroath, Scotland’s most famous document on a par with, and many say largely the basis for, our own Declaration of Independence. 

I wonder how Bruce or his comrades felt about all of this.  I suspect that they were strong enough in their faith in the rightness of their cause, declaring the independence that had always been theirs before Edward Longshanks invaded,  that it was little more than a source of amusement to them, although I would think it might also have saddened them, to be on the wrong side of a faith and church that they obviously valued.

Angus Og, Lord of the Isles– a strong and romantic moniker, evoking fascinating images even before you know anything about him; a name you can really sink your teeth into.

The irony is that Og actually means young.  So this great man was really running around being called Junior.  Hey, Junior, could you go slaughter the English battalion on my right?  Junior, I need 20 galleys and a hundred of your strongest warriors. 

I much prefer Angus Og!

His name aside, he was a fascinating man, yet another who deserves far more attention from history than what he has received.  He looms large (a little historical humor, as some sources say he was small in stature) and colorful in Nigel Tranter’s Bruce Trilogy.  But when it comes to researching him, there is very little.

The facts that are known are minimal.  He was the middle son of Angus Mor.  (Mor is large, or elder, in Gaelic.)  His older brother, Alexander, supported his brother-in-law, MacDougall, and the English.  I have come across very little about his younger brother, Iain (or John) Sprangach, apart from learning that Angus Mor’s lands in the western Isles of Scotland were originally split between the three sons.  Angus Og received Kintyre and Mull.

In a fascinating web of family loyalties, influences, and motivations, we find that Angus Og’s father, Angus Mor, and his uncle, Alisdair Mor, were continually at odds with their cousins, the MacDougalls (that would be Lame John of Lorne and his father, Alexander).  In an attempt to heal that rift, Angus Og’s older brother, Alisadiar Og, was married off to a MacDougall heiress.

Deepening the complexity of the situation, Angus Mor, Alisdair Mor, and Alisdair Mor’s son Donald were most likely supporters of Robert Bruce against the English.  It is true that Alisdair Mor and Donald both signed fealty to Edward I of England in 1291, but then, so did most Scottish nobles, including Bruce himself, under duress. 

Alisdair Mor died in battle against his own kin, the MacDougalls, in 1299, and Angus Mor a year later in 1300, leaving Angus Og’s older brother, Alisdair Og, as the head of the clan.  Alisdair, being now more closely related to the MacDougall family, gave his allegiance to the MacDougalls and the English, even becoming Admiral of the Western Seas.

Angus Og appears to have possibly supported his brother briefly– very briefly, as he is thought to have been largely neutral by 1301.  In 1306, the newly-crowned King Robert, in reality more a fugitive than a king, fled to the Western Isles, and sought refuge with Angus Og.  His risk paid off richly, with Angus Og becoming one of his earliest and strongest friends and supporters, the more so when Angus Og’s older brother Alisdair Og, was defeated in 1308 on the banks of the Dee in Galloway, by Edward Bruce.  One source says he disappeared into Ireland.  Another states very specifically that he was first taken prisoner by Edward Bruce, escaped to Castle Swein(or Sween) in North Knapdale in western Scotland, recaptured by Robert Bruce, and imprisoned in Dundonald Castle in Ayrshire, where he soon died.  This left Angus Og as clan leader, and the powerful new Lord of the Isles.

Donald MacDonald, in Clan Donald,says that Angus Og had supported the English, and had a sudden change of heart.  He discusses and dismisses the idea that this change of heart sprang from self interest: supporting a fugitive is hardly a way to further one’s own cause.  He concludes, instead, that Angus Og was simply re-adopting the decade old loyalty of his father to the Bruce family’s claim to the throne.  I do think it is also worth noting that Bruce and Angus Og shared a common enemy: the MacDougalls.  Bruce came to Angus Og seeking asylum very close on the heels of his (Bruce’s) defeats at the hands of John of Lorn at Dalry.  And it is human nature that, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’

From here on, Angus Og and his islemen warriors are repeatedly found by Bruce’s side.  Angus Og is reported to have been at the 1307 engagement in Galloway, in which Bruce’s brothers, Thomas and Nigel, were captured.  Angus’s cousin Donald fought with Bruce to re-take Arran.  This same Donald seems to have been present at one of Bruce’s early parliaments in 1309.

One source says that Angus Og brought 5,000 of his Islemen to Bannockburn.  Take this number with a grain of salt, as other sources put Bruce’s entire force as low as 5 or 6,000, while other place it as high as 13,000.  However, it is clear that Angus Og’s men made up a large, no doubt vital, percentage of Bruce’s army, considering he fought that day against an army that must have been a minimum of 20,000 men, possibly two or three times that many.  (Once again, sources differ greatly on these numbers.)

Angus Og’s men formed the reserve at Bannockburn.  Bruce held them back until the critical moment, when the English cavalary were already in disarray, and then called them in to support Edward Bruce, on the right.  The storming of the field by Angus Og and his Islemen is said to be one of the events that turned the battle.  Both John Barbour and Walter Scott have immortalized not only Bannockburn, but Angus Og’s part in it, in verse.  Walter Scott puts it thus:

“One effort more and Scotland’s free!  Lord of the Isles, my trust in thee!”

It is since Angus Og’s critical aid at Bannockburn that Clan Donald has forevermore been awarded the honor of holding the right wing in the royal army.

Not much is written of Angus Og’s activities in the wake of Bannockburn, except to say that he was granted extensive lands by Bruce and remained Bruce’s steadfast friend and ally the remainder of their lives.  There is an interesting story about the dowry brought by his bride– a large force of strong, young warriors– and he went on to have two sons, Good John of Islay, and Iain (that’s two sons named John, isn’t it?) and two daughters.

Bruce died in 1329 and Angus Og soon after in 1330.  He is buried on Iona, the traditional burial ground of the Kings of Scotland, under a tomb bearing his arms: a ship with furled sail, a standard, a lion, and a tree.

 

 

 

Graveslab of Angus Og

Graveslab of Angus Og

 

 

 

[As an interesting side note, Angus Mor, father of Angus Og, is also a many-times great grandfather of Lady Diana Spencer, Winston Churchhill, George I, and Louis XVII.]

Sources:

Clan MacAlister, Clan Donald by Donald MacDonald,

Yes, Longshanks… a fine name.  If it weren’t too late, I’m sure I’d name my firstborn Longshanks.  Actually, his father, Henry III of England, named him Edward, when he was born in June of 1239.  He later became known as Longshanks due to his height, and Hammer of the Scots for his treatment of the Scots.

Alexander III was the king of Scotland from July 1249, at the age of 8, until his death in March of 1286.  Because he had married Margaret of England, Henry III’s daughter, Henry had already demanded homage from the Scots, which Alexander refused.  Scotland had long been a kingdom in its own right.

By March of 1286, Alexander had been widowed, his two sons had died, and his daughter had gone to marry the King Erik II of Norway, given birth to a daughter, and died.  His only heir, therefore, was his granddaughter, Margaret.  So, on a dark and stormy night in March of 1286, Alexander, having remarried, was determined to reach his new queen in Fife.  Despite warnings from his advisors, he went ahead.  In the dark, his horse fell down a steep embankment, and Alexander was found dead, at the age of 44, from a broken neck.

When his unborn child by his new queen was stillborn, his granddaughter, the Maid of Norway, was sent for, as the new Queen of Scotland.  She died on the way to Scotland.  Some sources say she was as old as 7, some as young as 4.

It is at this point that Edward I– Edward Plantaganet, Longshanks, or Hammer of the Scots, as he is variously known– comes into the picture.  Without a clear heir, there were a dozen claimants to the throne of Scotland, six of whom had any really serious claims, and two real contenders: John Baliol and Robert Bruce, father of the better known Robert the Bruce.

The Scottish lords asked Edward I of England to choose, in order to avoid contention.  He agreed on the condition that he become Scotland’s overlord, basing his claim on Alexander’s homage to his father some years ago, although that homage was only for certain lands Alexander held within England.  The Scots agreed only that Scotland would be Edward’s until a rightful heir was chosen.

Longshanks chose Baliol, believing he had chosen a weak man whom he could control, and then continued to assert his authority over Scotland.  When Baliol refused to send troops for Edward’s war in France, Longshanks stormed north to subdue the Scots in 1296.

Thus began the years of war between England and Scotland, continuing through the days of William Wallace of Braveheart fame, and past the death of Longshanks himself in 1307. 

Under Longshanks’ son, Edward II, the Scots gradually regained all Edward I had taken, until Stirling was one of the few Scottish castles remaining in English hands, and it was for Stirling that the battle of Bannockburn was fought on Midsummer’s Day in 1314.