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.

Bruce was Scoto-Norman and Franco-Gaelic, and a direct descendant of David I of Scotland on his father’s side.  It is believed that, as a result, he spoke the several languages of his heritage, in addition to Latin.  He was the third child, but oldest boy, of 10, 11 or 12 siblings, depending on the source.  The confusion seems to lie in the fact that multiple names are often attributed to the same person, much like our Roberts and Bobs, Williams and Bills.  For instance, one source lists seven sisters for Robert Bruce: Isabella, Christina, Maud, Mary, Margaret, Elizabeth, and Marjory, while another source lists Isabella, Christina,  Elizabeth, Mary, and Margaret, but calls the sixth and last daughter Matilda/Marjory.  Yet another source lists only five sisters, leaving out Elizabeth, and listing Isabella, Christina, Margaret, Matilda, and Mary. Undiscovered Scotland says there were ten Bruce siblings.  There is no confusion about his brothers, Niel/Nigel, Edward, Thomas, and Alexander, perhaps because, being deeply involved in politics and warfare, there are clearer records of them.

 The older Bruce siblings may have remembered the time of peace before Alexander III’s death, but for the most part, they would have grown up in a world of turmoil, as Scotland fought Edward Longshanks’ continued efforts to subdue and control Scotland.  This was perhaps the motivating force on all their lives.  Only Isabella could be said to have had anything like a peaceful life, as queen of Norway.  (And I say that in comparison to the harsh fates of so many of her siblings.)

Bruce himself, spent years living in conditions most of us will never suffer, in caves and hunted both by the English and various Scottish clans who for various reasons sided with the English (or against Bruce, which of course had the same effect, if different motives) and fighting battles.  His sisters did not routinely fight battles, but they did suffer for his stand against the English.

Christina, or Christian, the second child and daughter, was betrayed and captured, along with Bruce’s wife and daughter, at Kildrummy, shortly after Bruce’s crowning at Scone in defiance of Longshanks.  She was ‘lucky’ enough to only be held in a convent from 1306 until after the Scots’ victory at Bannockburn in 1314.  But life was hard, and she lost three husbands.  Her first, Gartnait Earl of Mar, died of natural causes in 1305.  Her second, Christopher Seton, was brutally executed by the English in 1306.  Not the long marriage she had perhaps hoped for.  Her third, Andrew Murray, spent his life in battle against the English and serving Scotland.  Deborah Richmond Foulkes, in her novelized and very detailed account of James Douglas and his family, does an excellent job of portraying life for the wives and children left behind throughout countless battles and years of warfare, highlighting the fear and waiting which must have colored so much of Christina’s life.

She had three children, at least as recorded by history: Donald Earl of Mary and Helen with Gartnait and Lord John and Sir Thomas with Andrew Murray. 

Even apart from her sufferings on behalf of her brother’s and husbands’ politics, Christina must have been yet another remarkable woman in her own right.  Of course, this would undoubtedly come from her mother’s forceful personality, which deserves an article of its own.  But one of the few things that is remembered about Christina is that she successfully commanded the defending forces of Kildrummy Castle in Aberdeenshire, against David de Strathbogie, Earl of Atholl, leader of the English forces, in 1335.  She was in her 60′s.  It is unusual enough for a woman in medieval times to command an army; it is unusual in any time for a woman in her 60′s to do so.  It is a brief story that speaks volumes about who Christina must have been.  She lived to be 84.

Little enough is said of Mary Bruce, but we do know she was one of the younger sisters.  Along with Christina, Isabella MacDuff, Robert’s wife Elizabeth and daughter Marjory, Mary was betrayed and captured by the Earl of Ross.  Not treated so well as Christina, she and Isabella MacDuff were both held prisoner in wooden or iron cages, suspended from castle walls, for the amusement of crowds who mocked and threw things.  Mary lived like this, exposed to all seasons, from 1306 until 1310 on the walls of Roxburgh Castle.  She was kept in captivity even afterward, only being set free in exchange for English prisoners after Bannockburn in 1314.  Shortly after, she married one of Bruce’s closest companions and most loyal supporters, Neil Campbell.  He died very soon afterward, in 1316, and she later married Alexander Fraser of Touchfraser and Cowie (how would you like to fill that name out on your children’s school and medical forms!) 

Like so many, very few details of Mary have survived, but Nigel Tranter, the historian and novelist, paints her as a forceful and colorful personality.  Given her family background, it seems likely.

Virtually nothing has come to us of Bruce’s other sisters.  It is not even clear how many of them there were.  Is it because they were the younger siblings and so less involved in the immediate events of the time?  Perhaps more sheltered?  Given how long the wars of independence lasted, it seems unlikely they were that fortunate.  Is it because their names, Elizabeth, Marjory, Maud, and Matilda, are so easily confused with Bruce’s wife and daughters?  Were they less forceful or colorful personalities such that they left no records?  At this point in my research, it is impossible to say, but if anyone knows more of Bruce’s youngest sisters, I would very much welcome the information. 

Tomorrow, Bruce’s brothers.  Next week, his wives and children.

Castle Tioram, home of Christina MacRuari

Sadly, little is really known about Christina, sometimes called Christian or Christiana, Christina of Garmoran, or Christina of Mar.  The daughter and only (legitimate) child of Alan MacRuairi, she inherited vast portions of the western isles: Knoydart, Rum, Eigg, Moidart, Barra, Uist, and Gigha, in the early 14th Century.  She married Duncan, second son of the Earl of Mar, and brother to Robert Bruce’s first wife.  She was, therefore, a sister-in-law to the woman who would have been queen, had she lived, and related by marriage to Bruce himself.

While Nigel Tranter portrays Christina and Bruce meeting at sea when Bruce comes unexpectedly upon her ships being attacked and sails to her aid, Clan Donald by Donald J. MacDonald says that they met in Carrick, on Bruce’s land (not at sea at all), when she brought fifteen men to join him.  Ronald McNair Scott, in his book Robert the Bruce: King of Scots, says that Bruce went to Christina seeking her aid. 

Says Barbour:  A lady of that country [Carrick], who was his near kinswoman, was wondrous glad at his arrival and made haste to join him, bringing fifteen men whom she gave the king to help him in his warfare.  Fordun says: “the lady was a certain noblewoman, Christian of the Isles and it was by her help and power and goodwill that Bruce was able to return to Carrick.” 

A modern historian, Dr. Louise Yeoman, makes the case much more strongly, stating that it was not a spider (as per the legend), but a woman, Christina MacRuairi, who really inspired Bruce to keep fighting, by backing him with ships and hundreds of men.

At the time, living as a fugitive from Edward I of England, with very few at his side, even resorting to caves for shelter at times, Bruce would have been grateful regardless of where they met, regardless of whether it was fifteen men or hundreds, and this would indeed have made her a brave woman, following in the footsteps of Isobel MacDuff, to stand at his side at a time when few others had.

  She is believed to have sheltered Robert Bruce in the months between his loss at the Battle of Methven in June 1306 until his return to Carrick on the mainland in February 1307, according to Fordun.  Others go further and say that she not only sheltered him, but helped organize his armed return to his lands.  We do know that she was a consistent and loyal supporter and did at various times support him with food and shelter, in addition to ships and men.

Beyond this little bit, most scholarly reports of Christina concern her brother Roderick, Alan’s illegitimate son, to whom both she and Bruce gave land, or the mention of her in connection with her niece Amie. 

Less academic sources mention Christina’s strong friendship, and possible affair with Bruce during the eight years his wife, Elizabeth, was imprisoned by the English; yet she became fast friends withElizabeth in the years after her release.  James MacFarlane and Nigel Tranter both portray Christina and Bruce’s relationship in this light.  MacFarlane says, through Bruce, that Christina was first and foremost a warrior and clan chief.

I have been lucky to find a series on James Douglas, written in story form, but based on two or more years of on-site research with primary sources in Scotland and England.  It is my hope that some day someone will do as thorough a job researching Christina of Garmoran, and perhaps tell the world a great deal more about the life of this remarkable and fascinating woman.

Bruce did have one piece of luck on his side: Edward I was not his father.  He was not the knight, king, or commander his father had been.  He was not liked or respected by his people.  Some sources, not worrying about his feelings overly, say he ‘lacked the dignity’ of his father, and ‘failed miserably’ as a king.  His lavish spending, including on male favorites such as Piers Gaveston, made him unpopular with the lords.  This, and other issues led to the baronial revolt, and of course, it was easier for Bruce to re-take his country with the invaders pre-occupied with fighting amongst themselves.

Despite this, Bannockburn was still a pitched battle–something the Bruce had done his best to avoid throughout his years fighting England, and for good reason.  The English routinely had much larger forces, and guerrilla warfare gave the Scots a fighting chance (no pun intended–well, maybe not).   But faced with two forces meeting face to face on open field, Bruce found other methods.

The first of his strategies in defeating an army rumored to be anywhere from three to five times larger than his own, was to get there first and choose his ground.  Bruce had long been a master of this, in battles which will be discussed later.  Bannockburn was no exception.  He knew the road the English must take to reach Stirling Castle.  Remember, Bannockburn stemmed from the agreement between de Mowbray, the commander of Stirling Castle, and Edward Bruce, that de Mowbray would turn Stirling over to the Scots if Edward II did not send reinforcements by Midsummer’s Day.  This is what Edward II was attempting to do, and what Robert Bruce and the Scots were trying to prevent.  With that destination in mind, Edward’s mighty army, his 2,500 warhorses, 500 light cavalry, 2,000 Welsh bowmen, and tens of thousands of foot soldiers, marched up the old Roman road.

 The Roman road ran, at one point, between woods (The New Park) on the west and a bog (the Carse) on the east.  The deadliest part of England’s army was its cavalry.  But everybody has their Achille’s heel.  Even a highly trained knight armed with deadly weapons, atop a charging warhorse.  The one thing such a knight on his warhorse really needs is firm ground to support the weight.  And at this stretch of the old Roman road, there was very little of that.  By arriving first and staking out this section, Bruce created a situation in which 1) only a small part of the 20 mile long army could come through at any given time and 2) those that strayed from the solid path, or were forced to fight beyond it, would have one of their greatest assets–size and weight–turned against them, as they found themselves mired in the boggy ground.

Bruce did not rise to power in Scotland, however, by relying only on what the landscape gave him.  He came early, and did not sit idle while he waited.  In the weeks before England arrived, he set his men to digging ‘murder pits’ all over the carse across which the English would charge.  These pits were deep, and filled with spikes sticking straight up.  The pits were covered over with a camouflage layer of branches and leaves culled from the New Park wood.  Normally, I’d have to say that’s not very nice.  But then again, if I knew a knight was going to be charging at me swinging a mace and sword to crush in my skull, I think I’d do the same thing. 

Bruce had used this strategy in previous battles.  Nigel Tranter novelized the results in The Path of the Hero King.  The first wave of cavalry hit the first row of murder pits and went down.  The knights behind them were unable to stop, their horses simply not being so agile.  Eventually, enough horses had gone down in these pits that further waves were able to simply ride over the bodies.  They did not count on there being a second row of murder pits.  Or a third.

For those horses who escaped the murder pits, Bruce had another surprise: caltrops.  A caltrop is a giant, four-armed jack.  No matter which way it lands on the ground, a spike is sticking straight up, waiting to pierce a hoof.  If your name is Drummond, they may be part of your family history, as Sir Malcolm de Drymen is credited with strewing them on the ground that day.  It is said that the caltrop on the Drummond arms, and the motto Gang warily stem from this moment in history.

For those cavalry who survived both murder pits and caltrops, Bruce had his schiltrons waiting.  Those who saw Braveheart will likely remember the scene in which the Scots wait, with 15 foot pikes flat on the ground, until it is too late for the charging English cavalry to stop.  The pikes come up, and the charging horses impale themselves, and sometimes their riders, on the pikes. 

The drawback to this method was that it was purely defensive.  Bruce shortened the pikes to a more manageable length and trained his men to march together, hundreds together, with pikes pointed outward, thus making the schiltron a mobile, offensive force, the only power in the world that could take on mounted cavalry.  Bruce had six schiltrons at Bannockburn. 

One of the more famous stories to come out of the battle is that of Sir Robert Clifford and his 700 English cavalry attacking a schiltron.  He succeeded in getting himself and a large number of his knights killed or captured.  (One of these was Sir Thomas Gray, whose son later gave us one of the few written records of the battle based on first hand accounts.)  The rest scattered, realizing the futility of the attempt.

Knowing from past experience that the archers were a danger to his strongest weapon, the schiltrons, Bruce dispatched Keith’s cavalry to deal with them.

Bruce’s plans and choice of battleground not only destroyed much of the English cavalry before they could even begin to fight, but prevented tens of thousands of footmen from ever fighting at all.  Because of the narrow entry through which they must come, these soldiers were trapped behind the knights, and unable to fight. 

Finally, there is the storming from Coxet Hill (or Gillies, according to some).  Some say it was the Knights Templar.  Others say it was Bruce’s reserve army, and still others that it was the ‘wee folk,’ or townfolk, racing to battle with their homemade weapons and farming tools, waving blankets and homemade banners on poles, and thus appearing to the English to be another army. 

 The English had gone into the main battle already demoralized.  The destruction of their archers by Keith’s light cavalry and the apparent appearance of a fresh army were the final blows.  Edward II, with a host of his followers, turned and ran.  In the chaos that followed, many of the English drowned trying to cross back over the many waterways–the River Forth, the Pelstream, and the Bannock Burn–which hemmed them in.

Sources contradict one another, and arguments rage as to how many fought on each side at the battle of Bannockburn.  (The number I’ve given above are only one source, and vary widely in others.)  But what is undeniably true is that the Scottish forces were heavily outnumbered, at least three to one, and some say as much as five to one.  And yet, with the foresight of Robert the Bruce and his years of creative warfare against a much stronger army, they were able to not only win, but completely rout their Goliath.

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

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!

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.

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.

Isabel MacDuff

Isabel MacDuff is a woman who deserves more attention than she has gotten, at least on this side of the Atlantic.  Although a minor player in history, her courage, strength, and patriotism put her on a level withthe greats.   Her story officially begins withher birthin 1286, within months of the fateful death of Alexander III, which threw Scotland into such turmoil.  Thus, she would have grown up in the days of upheaval, of Edward Longshanks, Hammer of the Scots’ invasions of Scotland, through the days of the Guardianship– her father, Duncan MacDuff, was one of the Guardians– and John Baliol’s failed kingship, through the events of William Wallace’s uprisings against England.

In an explanation of the events to follow, it is important to know that the MacDuff clan held a hereditary right to crown the Kings of Scotland.  In a more direct explanation of Isabel’s Scottish patriotism, her mother, widowed when Isabel was about three, re-married one Sir Gervase Avenel, who gave his fealty to Robert the Bruce early on. 

What complicated matters for Isabel, and tested her determination and courage, was the fact that her brother was growing up as a ward fo the English court, perhaps even as a companion of the young Edward II.  Moreover, in 1306, aged 19 or 20, Isabel married John Comyn, Earl of Buchan.  John Comyn was a supporter of John Baliol and enemy of Robert Bruce.  It was John’s cousin, also John Comyn, but Earl of Badenoch, whom Robert Bruce stabbed to death before the altar of Greyfriars Church in Dumfries on February 10, 1306, cementing the Comyn family’s hatred of Bruce.

This incident, perhaps, changed Isabel’s life.

Bruce, knowing  he would be excommunicated for killing a man on holy ground, and knowing an excommunicated man could not be crowned king, did the only sensible thing in a time without e-mail: he dashed for Scone, the traditional crowning place of the Scottish kings, in a race against the messengers flying to the Pope with news of the Greyfriarsmurder and the messengers speeding back equally hastily with news of his excommunication.

Isabel, however she heard the news of Bruce’s flight to Scone for coronation, determined that, as her young brother was in England, unable to claim the MacDuff family’s right, she would do so herself, against the obvious wishes of her new husband.  One story says she stole her husband’s horses.  Other sources say that, as Lord John was in England at the time, there was no need for deception, and she merely rode off.  The first story is more interesting, though perhaps less accurate.

Isabel Crowns Bruce

Despite her best efforts, Isabel actually arrived in Scone the day after Bruce’s coronation.  However, her efforts meant a great deal to him.  He’d already been deprived, by Edward I, of the traditional coronation stone, the Stone of Scone (which contrary to appearances does not rhyme: it’s pronounced scoon).  Without the traditional elements of coronation, the Stone and a MacDuff to crown him, he worried that his kingship would be viewed as less than completely legitimate.  Therefore, the coronation ceremony was re-enacted on the 25th of March, 1306, when Isabel MacDuff, Countess of Buchan, set the crown on the head of Robert the Bruce, making him (for the second time in two days) King of Scotland.

(Just to be as accurate as possible, other sources put the re-crowning on March 27, 1306.)

Having no future withher husband after this act, Isabel stayed on with the Bruce’s.  However, Scotland was a country under attack.  Bruce was a man very badly wanted by Edward, and not well liked by the vast reaches of Clan Comyn and their allies, either.  In July 1306, he sent his wife, sisters, daughter, and Isabel to Kildrummy Castle for safety, under the protection of his brother Nigel (or Neil as he was also known).

Unfortunately, Bruce had many enemies.  Kildrummy was attacked in September of 1306.  Though the women escaped the castle, they were captured by William, Earl of Ross, while fleeing north, and taken to Edward Longshanksin England.  Bruce’s wife, Elizabeth, was treated perhaps the most kindly, the fortunate result of her also being the daughter of Edward’s ally, the Earl of Ulster.  But Bruce’s ten year old daughter, Marjory, was from his first marriage, and therefore no concern to Edward; she was incarcerated at Watton Priory.  His sister, Christina, was locked in a nunnery for years.   Nigel met the most unpleasant face, being publicly tortured and executed in most barbaric fashion by Edward I.

Remains of Berwick Castle

Bruce’s other sister, Mary, received more of Edward’s wrath.  She and Isabel were both ordered by Edward I to live in cages hung on castle walls.  Mary spent several years suspended on the outer walls of Roxburgh, and Isabel, for the crime of placing the crown on Bruce’s head and defying her husband, was likewise suspended on the walls of Berwick castle.

This site on Edward II gives the clearest description I have yet found on the conditions Isabel suffered.  It describes the cage as made of lattice wood and iron hinges.  It was open for all to see, allowing her only the privacy of a privy.  She was exposed to the elements and the ridicule of the English people, though allowed two women to bring her food and drink.  This page gives the date of her release as June 1310– nearly four years in a cage.

Having been quite cold while I was in Scotland in late May and early June, I can hardly imagine what it must have been like to live exposed to the elements, even through winter, for four years.  She was reputedly held in continued captivity even after her release from the cage.  Sources differ as to whether she died in captivity or survived it.

I am pleased to have found that there is a novel written about Isabel MacDuff.  Barbara Erskine’s Kingdom of Shadows focuses on the life of this fascinating woman.  I had recently been told about Barbara Erskine’s novels set in medieval Scotland, and planned to find some and start reading, anyway.  Now, I have double reason to do so.

Readers of the Blue Bells Trilogy will be familiar with the MacDougalls. Lame John was the son of Alexander MacDougall. Alexander MacDougall, uncle to John Comyn who was murdered by Bruce, died a few years before Bannockburn, according to most sources. Nigel Tranter does put an Alexander MacDougall at the August 1314 council, as one of many who sided with the English but quickly came back into the peace of Robert the Bruce afterward. On the part of Bruce, his famed mercy was not merely mercy, but the hope of a practical man who believed his country would be stronger if he could finally bring his people together, rather than having them fight against one another. To this end, he offered mercy for the price of allegiance.

Lame John did not accept this offer of peace, but continued to serve Edward II of England, as admiral in the western Isles. Having decreed that Scotland must stand united, Bruce did not care overly much for having Edward II’s ships in his Sound of Jura. Dates are uncertain: some sources indicate as early as June 1315,  a year to the day after Bannockburn, while others suggest it took place in 1316 or even 1317.  Many writings I’ve found are written such that it’s difficult to tell what date they’re really saying, or whether they’re giving one at all.

Regardless of which year it took place, it’s a fascinating battle and a fascinating look at Bruce, who once again showed his ingenuity and ability to use everything he had, even history and superstition.

This is one of many battles in which the colorful Angus Og, Lord of the Isles, worked side by side as one of Bruce’s most loyal supporters. It was his fleet that transported his own Islemen and Bruce’s warriors. Half the fleet, under Angus Og, sailed around and up the western shore of Kintyre, into the southern Sound of Jura where Lame John’s fleet lay. (fact check) At the same time, Bruce’s men sailed up the eastern shore of the peninsula, where there is no outlet.

Toward the north of Kintyre, however, is East Loch Tarbert. Bruce’s men sailed into East Loch Tarbert, and from there, constructed either a gangway of planks, or a series of logs, which acted as rollers. When this was done, the men hauled the galleys, with ropes, up onto the rollers, and between pulling and opening the sails to catch the wind, Bruce sailed a mile overland, into West Loch Tarbert. From there, presumably with men exhausted from days of rowing, chopping, and hauling ships, Bruce sailed into the north of the Sound of Jura.

Part of the genius of Bruce’s plan, even apart from the element of surprise– there was no waterway to allow ships to surprise John from the north– was that it played on an old superstition. In 1098, Magnus Barefoot, King of Norway, had done the same thing. Among the Islemen, it was believed that when their enemy once again sailed overland like Magnus Barefoot, they would be conquered. It had much the same effect as re-enacting an Arthurian legend to beat down the enemy’s morale. It also would most likely have boosted the morale of his own men, who must have been exhausted by this point.

In the words of John Barbour, medieval author of The Brus: “For they knew by an old prophecy that whoever should have ships go between those seas with sails would so win the Isles for himself that no one could withstand him by force.  Therefore, they all came to the King and none withstood his commands apart from John of Lornalone.”  (Of course, he said it in medieval Englys.)

Lame John’s fleet was now caught between Angus Og coming up from the south and Robert Bruce coming down from the north.  Between the clear military problem and the superstitions of his men, John of Lorn had little chance.  Nigel Tranter paints a colorful picture of the event, describing it as taking place in the few hours of near dark at Midsummer’s Night, with torches lighting up close to the water, along the lines of Bruce’s and Angus Og’s galleys to signal one another, and John driving his fleet hard to the west, trying futilely to escape the trap. 

The battle in the Sound of Jura was over swiftly, the isles completely under the power of Robert Bruce and Angus Og, and John of Lorn not to live many months beyond that event.

I don’t know why Nigel Tranter caught my eye, but he did: a thick, green book with an archaic painting of Robert the Bruce in a flowing red beard adorning the front.  The book was The Bruce Trilogy, a collection of Tranter’s three novels about Robert the Bruce.  It was so much of what I had gone to Scotland to learn, wrapped up in one giant volume.  I considered the price and the exchange rate, and reluctantly left it on the shelf.  Within minutes of getting home, I hit amazon and found a used copy for significantly less. 

 It arrived in days, and for several days afterward, I was lost in the world of Robert the Bruce– as a hot-headed young man, as the eager, new husband of Elizabeth deBurgh, as both friend and enemy of Edward Longshanks, “The Hammer of the Scots.”  

In between reading of Bruce living in a cave, hunted by Longshanks, ferrying in secret across swamps, and reigning supreme at Bannockburn against impossible odds, I read up on Nigel Tranter himself.    A native of Glasgow, he is a man who deserves far more recognition on our side of the Atlantic.  He is a prolific author in the worlds of both fiction and non-fiction.  His fiction alone spans from children’s books to historical fiction to Westerns and contemporary and adventure novels.  His non-fiction is a testament to his love of Scotland, covering castles, counties, and landscapes.

While we all have different opinions of what good historical fiction is, I personally like historical accuracy.  There are those authors with reputations for playing fast and loose with historical facts, twisting facts to fit the story they wish to tell.  Tranter, by contrast, has a reputation for impeccable research, down to the fine details.  There are those storytellers, for instance, who have liked to dramatize the death of Longshanks in ways it didn’t actually happen.  When you read Tranter’s historical fiction, you will read something very close to the historical record, in story form. 

Among Tranter’s novels, I have only been lucky enough to read The Bruce Trilogy so far, but thoroughly enjoyed the detailed look at one of Scotland’s– I would even say the world’s– greatest men.  We see the forces that shaped him, turning him from a reckless young man with a hot temper, to a firm and determined leader, capable of taking on the greatest army the world had ever seen, with his small band of 5 or 6,000, and not only surviving, but triumphing, and turning Scotland’s fate.

If you love Scotland or medieval times, I consider The Bruce Trilogy a must read.