Posts Tagged ‘melrose’

As I research a sequence of hiking scenes today, I find myself in the midst of some of Scotland’s great and picturesque medieval ruins.
Castle Campbell

 There’s Castle Campbell, high in the Ochil Hills between the Burn of Care and the Burn of Sorrow, and once called Castle Gloom. How much more evocative can you get? If you have ten minutes, take a virtual walk through Dollar Glen and up to the castl now!

There is simply no choice but to write a scene–any scene!–in such a setting!  Whether that will be today, I don’t know, because there are so many wonderful sites that might work better for the underlying themes in the scene.

I moved on to abbeys, in particular, those along the “Four Abbeys Cycle Route,” a ride I fully intend to make some day.  There’s Jedburgh, in the haunts of the great James Douglas, Bruce’s close friend and loyal knight.  It’s tempting to set a scene here, as Douglas appears in Book 2 of the Trilogy.  There’s Dryburgh, secluded on ten acres in a loop of the River Tweed, and Kelso,  known as one of the grandest.

But for sheer picturesque beauty and mystique, Melrose stands out.  It is no wonder it has been lauded by several poets, including Walter Scott, in The Lay of the Last Minstrel:

If thou would’st view fair Melrose aright,
Go visit it by the pale moonlight;
For the gay beams of lightsome day
Gild, but to flout, the ruins grey.
When the broken arches are black in night,
And each shafted oriel glimmers white;
When the cold light’s uncertain shower
Streams on the ruin’d central tower;
When buttress and buttress, alternately,
Seem framed of ebon and ivory;
When silver edges the imagery,
And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die;
When distant Tweed is heard to rave,
And the owlet to hoot o’er the dead man’s grave,
Then go–but go alone the while–
Then view St. David’s ruin’d pile;
And, home returning, soothly swear,
Was never scene so sad and fair!

and further in the poem:

Spreading herbs, and flowerets bright,
Glisten’d with the dew of night;
Nor herb, nor floweret, glisten’d there,
But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair.
The monk gazed long on the lovely moon, 
Then into the night he looked forth; 
And red and bright the streamers light 
Were dancing in the glowing north.
 

Melrose is widely considered the most beautiful of religious houses in all of the United Kingdom, noted particularly for its Gothic architecture and its many detailed carvings of saints, gargoyles, plants, and dragons.  Notable among the sculptures is the bagpipe playing pig. 

Like all ancient churches, it is built in the shape of a cross, facing east and west.  It features 50 windows, more than 50 buttresses, and a number of side chapels, many containing tombs.  On one of its stairways, is carved the motto of the town of Melrose: “Be halde to ye hende.”  Meaning, Keep in mind, the end, your salvation. 

At the request of David I of Scotland, so renowned for his piety that he was sometimes called St. David, the  Cistercian monks founded this beautiful abbey in 1136.  They selected the site, two miles west of a former monastery on the River Tweed, preferring the better farm there, over the site of the former monastery.  Early records, recorded in the Melrose Chronicle, show grants of land to the abbey by Roger de Skelbrooke of Grennan, about 1193; and grants of Maybole and Beath to the Abbey by Duncan, Earl of Carrick.  Other lands came from Raderic mac Gillescop and his wife Christina (daughter of Roger de Skelbrooke), and from Walter Campania in the mid-1200′s.

The town of Melrose grew up around the abbey.  Through the years, the English attacked both town and abbey.  In 1322, 8 years after the Blue Bells Trilogy begins, Edward II destroyed much of the abbey.  Robert the Bruce rebuilt.  Richard II attacked in 1384, while driving Robert II of Scotland and his army back to Edinburgh.  It took more than a hundred years to rebuild, and in fact was still not finished in 1504 when James IV visited. 

Barely completed, it was once again attacked by Sir Ralph Evers during the “Rough Wooing” of 1544, in which Henry VIII demanded, rather forcefully, the infant  Mary, Queen of Scots, as his son’s bride.  The English, this time, vented special rage upon the tombs of the Douglases, some of whom are buried there.  The following year, in 1545, the English were back, under the Earl of Hertford, to wreak more damage. 

Melrose Abbey was never completely repaired after this, and it declined as a working monastery.  Its last abbot died in 1559, and its last monk some 31 years later in 1590.  Not quite content, the English assaulted one last time, under Oliver Cromwell, in the mid-1600′s. 

Although it was disestablished in 1609, it was partially re-roofed and continued, even in its semi-ruined state, to be used as a parish church from 1618 until 1810.  For years, nearby residents used the church as a quarry to build their own homes, further destroying its former grandeur.

Bruce’s Association with Melrose

Through the Arches

The Bruce seems to have had a place in his heart for Melrose.  (A little historical humor, as there is now a place in Melrose for his heart, but I suppose one logically follows from the other.)  On March 11, 1302, the 27-year-old Bruce wrote to ‘the anxious monks of Melrose Abbey’ that, despite being called to his Carrick army in previous years, he was now ‘troubled in conscience’ and thus promised never again to do so, ‘unless the common army of the whole realm is raised for its defense.’  (An echo, perhaps, of his own father granting certain freedoms to the men of Melrose Abbey in 1285?)

Around March of 1309, he made a royal grant of the lands of Eksdale to the abbey. 

In 1316, in the wake of his success against the English at Bannockburn, Bruce maintained especially close ties to Melrose Abbey.  He signed a charter there on June 8 of that year; 20 days later, from Kilwinning, he granted letters patent to Melrose.  On October 6, it was the Abbot of Melrose who was given safe-conduct to England, presumably to deliver Bruce’s own guarantees of safe-conduct for English negotiators to come north.  Those negotiators arrived at Jedburgh on November 21, and on that same day, once again from Melrose, Bruce signed a writ to James Douglas.

In 1322, Edward II pushed all the way to the gates of Edinburgh.  However, frustrated at the Scots’ harassment of his army (imagine that!), he retreated, attacking Scottish abbeys on the way.  The men of Melrose fought back, resulting in the English killing Melrose’s Prior William Peebles and three invalids  (what a glorious victory)  and going on to descrate, loot and seriously damage the abbey. 

 In January 1326, Bruce granted the abbey a hundred pounds per year to serve each monk “The King’s Dish” each day, a supplement to the standard rations.  The money was to come from Berwick, Edinburgh, and Haddington; James Douglas was charged with enforcing the payment, and as soon as August, had to do so, threatening the sheriff of Berwick with a 10 pound fine.  Several months later, Bruce gave 2,000 sterling, the equivalent of $50,000 today, to Melrose for repairs.  Those repairs are credited with making the abbey so particularly beautiful, as Gothic architecture was at that time at its height. 

In his last written requests as he lay dying at Cardross, on May 13, 1329, Bruce asked that his heart be buried at Melrose Abbey.  Does his request have anything to do with the fact that his own father was buried at Holm Coultram, a daughter house of Melrose, in England?  After Bruce’s death, as per another request, Bruce’s heart made a brief trip to Spain to fight the Crusades, embalmed in a silver casket.  On its return, it was buried at Melrose as requested.

The abbey became the burial place of many important figures.  An 1890 guidebookto Melrose Abbey, by J. Wass, lists William Douglas, “The Dark Knight of Liddesdale,”  and hero of Otterburn and Chevy Chase and many of his descendants; Alexander II and his queen Johanna; many of the Karr family; and the heart of Robert the Bruce, on its recovery from the Crusades, to which James Douglas carried it. 

Among the most interesting stories of the dead at Melrose Abbey is that of Michael Scot, “The Scottish Wizard.”  His life straddled the 12th and 13th Centuries,  and some believe he retired in old age to Melrose, and is buried there.  Sacred-destinations.com claims this is authenticated, while other sites call it conjecture and put forth other places as his retirement and burial.  Nonetheless, it is said that in 1812, roughly 600 years after his death, his stone coffin was found in the aisle of Melrose’s south chancel.

Got Ghosts?

Like all good ruins, Melrose is home to a few ethereal presences.  Michael Scott is reputed to be one of them.  Many people report a chill in the air near his grave.  A group of ghostly monks likes to walk the grounds, while another, unnamed figure ‘slides’ through the ruins like a snake, close to the ground. 

Cemetery at Melrose

A fourth story tells of  a vampire.  Answers.com gives a fairly detailed account, calling this an ‘actual vampire,’ and reporting that the case was chronicled by William of Newburgh, author of Historia rerum Anglicarum, in the 1100′s.  It is worth noting that William of Newburgh comes down through history with the reputation of a ‘careful historian,’ and that he reports his case on the authority of ‘reputable’ clerics who experienced the events firsthand.  The story is also recounted in Stories of the Border Marches, by John Lang.

These reputable clerics tell of  a priest of Melrose who neglected his vows for frivolous activity.  Other sources state more forcefully that he was given to all manner of sin and vices, and called Hundeprest, Dog Priest, for his love of hunting on horseback with a pack of hounds at his heels.  On his death, he rose from his grave and made several attempts at entering the cloister.  Failing this, he wandered the countryside, entering the home of a woman to whom he had been chaplain.  Apparently not caring for her dead chaplain’s nighttime visits, she reported him to the abbey. 

Several of the monks sat watch by his grave.  Most of them went to warm themselves by a fire, leaving only one witness to the nightly rising.  This monk struck the dead–or not so dead–with a battle axe and forced him back into the grave.  When the other monks returned, the earth appeared undisturbed.  They dug up the corpse to find it marked with the wounds of a battle axe, in accord with the monk’s story, and the coffin full of blood.  They burned the body and scattered the ashes over the Lammermuir Hills, but the story of the undead priest, and many say his presence, too, remain at Melrose.

The rumors of vampirism and other crimes are often linked back either to Michael Scott or to the delinquent priest, and the sliding presence is said to possibly be a manifestation of the evil spirits left behind by one or the other of them.

Today

Melrose Abbey stands today as a top attraction in the Borders region of Scotland, including the ruins, the old cemetery, and the Commendator’s House Museum, containing a variety of medieval objects.  If you’re interested in learning more about it, there is a fascinating and detailed guidebook from the 1800′s available online.

While sources disagree on the numbers and names of Bruce’s younger sisters, there is widespread agreement on his brothers.  Only one leaves out Alexander, the youngest.  Nobody could argue that Bruce’s sisters had easy lives.  Much less so he and his brothers.  Of the five, Bruce, Neil, Edward, Thomas, and Alexander, only Bruce died peacefully, though he hardly was able to live so.

Bruce himself was born in 1274, the first son and third child.  Neil–also known as Niall or Nigel–arrived soon after in 1276, followed by Edward around 1279, Thomas i 1284, and Alexander, the youngest, in 1285. 

War with England shaped, and eventually took, the lives of all Robert Bruce’s brothers.  As a novelist, asking what if is important.  No doubt we all do it in our lives, and it is easy to ask of the Bruce family, what if?  What if Alexander III had not died, trying to get home to his bride on that dark and stormy night?  What if his young widow had in fact been pregnant with an heir to the throne, as she first claimed?  What if his granddaugther, the Maid of Norway, had survived her journey to Scotland to claim the throne?  What if the lords of Scotland could have agreed on a successor instead of, fearing internal war, asking Edward I (Longshanks) to choose?  Had any of these things been different, perhaps the Bruces would have lived a relatively peaceful life; perhaps more of the five brothers would have had families and lived to old ages. 

But the fact is, Alexander was determined to get home to his bride, andgiven the personalities involved, it led inexorably, step by step, to prolonged war with England, in which Bruce, and thus his brothers, were major players.

Neil, the second brother, was the first to die at England’s hands.  The beginning of the end, for him, were Bruce’s defeats at Methven in June 1306 and Strathfillan two months later in August.  At the time, Bruce was a newly-crowned king with no power, and in fact no home, in his own kingdom.  His wife, daughter, and sisters had been traveling with  him and his men, but his defeats at Methven and Strathfillan raised concerns for their safety.  So he sent them, under the protection of most of his men, including Neil and the Lord of Atholl, to Kildrummy Castle for safety.  Bruce, along with Edward, Thomas, and Alexander, and a few close followers, headed into hiding on Rathlin Island off the northern shore of Ireland.

Ruins of Kildrummy

When the English marched against Kildrummy, the women were sent further north on their way to Orkney, under the protection of the Earl of Atholl.  Neil defended Kildrummy admirably against the younger Edward.  Unfortunately, he was betrayed from within by a blacksmith bribed with ‘all the gold he could carry’ to set fire to the grain stores.  With no food, the men of Kildrummy were forced to surrender.  Neil was captured, and in September 1306, hanged, drawn, and quartered at Berwick-on-Tweed.  (The blacksmith, on being caught by the Scots, did indeed receive his reward for betraying the King’s brother: all the gold he could carry was melted and poured down his throat.  I’m thinking he would have done better to remain gold-less but loyal.)  

Neil (or Nigel) would have been about 30 at the time of his death.  (The year or his birth is given as circa 1276, and so far in my research, without a month.)

The death of his brother Neil, the first of the five brothers to die at England’s hands, was a devastating blow to Bruce, both personally and in his quest to reclaim his country.  The sickening feeling to all of them, Robert, Edward, Thomas, and Alexander, on hearing of the vicious torture, mutilation, and execution of their own brother, can only be imagined.  Bruce, who, as the eldest brother, ultimately had made the decision for all of them, to fight, had known from the start that he risked bringing this on his own family.  Of course, succumbing to Longshanks’ brutal rule was no guarantee of a long and peaceful life, either.  In fact, knowing how Longshanks treated Scotland, it was a guarantee of the opposite.  Still, the death of his brother, resulting from his decisions, is believed to have weighed heavily on Bruce’s heart.

One can imagine the thoughts of all the Bruce brothers, knowing any of them could be next.  And, indeed, it was less than a year later–on February 9, 1307, that Thomas and Alexander would die at Carlisle the same way Neil had.  During the winter months of 1306-1307, many believe Bruce and his company rested and re-grouped in the western islands under the hospitality and protection of Christina MacRuairi.  It is from there that Bruce and his followers launched their two-pronged return to the mainland of Scotland in February 1307. 

Robert and Edward landed at Turnberry Castle in the southwest, while Thomas and Alexander led 18 galleys in the landing further south still, at Loch Ryan.  They were immediately overwhlemed by the local forces of Dougal MacDougal, a supporter of the Comyns.  Keep in mind that Robert Bruce killed John Comyn at the altar of Greyfriars Kirk not quite a year prior to this, on February 10, 1306.  Alexander would most likely have been short of his 22nd birthday, and Thomas short of his 23rd. 

Thus, within six months, the English executed three of Bruce’s four brothers, leaving himself and the third of the five brothers, Edward.  It is easy to imagine that they felt the executioner’s rope heavy around their own necks at that point.  It is easy enough, reading history 700 years later, and knowing they would live for many years to come–especially Robert–but they did not have the comfort of such foreknowledge.  They could only push on, most likely feeling that, with all their brothers so quickly captured and executed, the odds were heavily against them.  Still, they did push on.

Edward Bruce comes down through history as forceful, hot-headed, and willful.  Because he lived much longer, the historical record is full of stories of Edward Bruce.  In brief, he fought beside Robert through the years leading up to Bannockburn, a loyal supporter and a thorn in his side.  On the one hand, he re-captured many of the castles taken by Edward I.  On the other, he made the rash agreement with Phillip de Mowbray, the English commander of Stirling Castle, which led to exactly the pitched, face to face battle with the English which Robert had always tried to avoid.

(Again, ask what if?  What if Bruce had chosen Edward to lead the attack on Loch Ryan?  I have not done the research to know if history tells us why Bruce chose as he did, but years of reading on Edward makes it easy to guess that he may have kept Edward at his side exactly to keep his rashness under control.  What if the more level-headed Thomas or Alexander had survived and been sent to conduct the siege at Stirling?  The Battle of Bannockburn likely never would have happened. 

It was a huge, but unavoidable, risk at the time, once Edward Bruce opened his mouth and put Robert into that unenviable position.  It is probably not completely possible for most of us to imagine marching to battle with a force three times the size of our own.  But Robert was thrown into that position, and turned it into Scotland’s greatest moment.  Does this make Edward Bruce the villain and fool of the story or the accidental hero?  Or the full-blown hero for having the courage to face the largest army the world had ever seen?

Edward Bruce commanded the men of Galloway in one of four schiltrons (rings of spears, against which even knights on warhorses could not stand) at the Battle of Bannockburn, on June 23 and 24, 1314.  After Bannockburn, Edward was among those who pushed for continued attacks on England, in order to force England to acknowledge Scotland once again as an independent nation and Robert Bruce as its rightful king. 

To this end, Edward Bruce also pushed Robert to lead the Irish in rebelling against their English overlords.  His argument was that a few thousand Scots, with the aid of the Irish who also disliked England’s rule, could harry England further, harassing them on so many fronts that they must finally give in to Scotland’s very minimal demands.

Due to Edward’s manipulations behind his back, Robert was somewhat forced to agree to Edward’s plan, and on May 26, 1315, Edward’s fleets landed in Ireland.  In 1316, he was crowned King of Ireland.  His brief reign ended with his death at the battle of Faughart on October 14, 1318.  De Birmingham, the opposing commander, had his body quartered, and the pieces sent to various towns in Ireland.  His head was delivered to Edward II. 

He was about 39 years old.  He left behind at least one son, Alexander de Brus, fathered with his probable wife, Isabelle, daughter of John de Strathbogie, Earl of Atholl.  Records suggest an intended second marriage, after Isabelle’s death, to Isabella Ross, and a second son, Thomas, by this other Isabelle.  Many historians doubt the marriage actually took place.

This left Robert, the eldest, as the sole survivor of his father’s five sons.  He spent the rest of his years working to ensure Scotland’s freedom from England.  He died on June 7, 1329, at the age of 54, at his new manor of Cardross.  He had suffered for years from a painful skin ailment, that has been called everything from psoriasis to leprosy.  He is buried at Dunfermline Abbey.  At his request, however, James Douglas, his closest friend and companion, removed his heart, embalmed and enclosed it in a silver casket, and carried it to the Crusades, to atone for his murder of John Comyn 23 years earlier.  James Douglas died in the Crusades, but the silver casket with Bruce’s heart was recovered and buried at Melrose Abbey.