The submission to Edward of John Comyn of Badenoch (nephew of King John Balliol) and the rest of the Scottish government in February 1304 was a very different matter: it was Comyn who had been the real ‘patriot’ in the struggle with England, not Bruce. The Scottish army, such as it was, had not been defeated in the field; the Scots had kept the mighty English war machine at bay for eight years, but there had been a haemorrhaging of support, especially in the south, among the leaders of the local communities who were tired of war, tired of harassment, tired of being hammered financially. Fiona Watson says:
Submission was surely the sensible, pragmatic thing to do. Scotland had been abandoned by France and was isolated internationally. People also realised that King Edward would not live for ever, and that his son Edward was probably not as implacably hostile to Scotland as his father was – so why not submit now and see what happened when Edward died? So they submitted, on reasonably lenient terms, and lived to fight another day.
The brutal execution of William Wallace must have sent a shiver of apprehension through the ranks of the Scottish aristocracy, as a dire warning of the penalty for crossing King Edward. There is no record of what Robert Bruce thought about it, but he was aware that he was out of favour with Edward. Edward did not know of Bruce’s secret pact with Bishop Lamberton in July 1304, but he was aware of Bruce’s ambition to be king, and Bruce had not been favoured with any important administrative post in the new constitution which Edward was preparing for Scotland. Bruce was evidently preparing for a political comeback, but he was playing a highly dangerous game.
Now in his early thirties, Bruce was probably planning ahead to such time as Edward was dead. There are conflicting indications that he made overtures of some kind to the Red Comyn. According to Walter Bower’s Scotichronicon and John Barbour in The Brus, he offered Comyn a choice: that Comyn himself should take the throne (even though the legitimate heir was John Balliol’s son, Edward Balliol) and grant to Bruce all his lands and possessions, or that Bruce should become king and Comyn should receive all Bruce’s lands. Comyn allegedly accepted the latter proposition, and the bargain was sealed.
The idea of any kind of written compact, however vaguely worded, seems unlikely, for such a document would have been dangerously incriminating if it had fallen into Edward’s hands. But there may well have been an understanding of some sort between the two men: Comyn knew that his own claim to the throne was very much weaker than that of Bruce, and Bruce knew that he could hardly hope to be king of a united nation without the wholehearted support of the powerful and patriotic Comyn faction.
But events were to take a dramatic and wholly unexpected turn on 10 February 1306, after Bruce and Comyn had arranged to hold a private discussion in the neutral sanctuary of the Church of the Grey Friars in Dumfries.
He who would be king
They met in the church of the Minorities in that town, before the high altar. What passed betwixt them is not known for certainty; but they quarrelled, either concerning their mutual pretensions to the crown, or because Comyn refused to join Bruce in the proposed insurrection against the English … It is, however, certain, that these two haughty barons came to high and abusive words, until at length Bruce, who I told you was extremely passionate, forgot the sacred character of the place in which they stood, and struck Comyn a blow with his dagger.
TALES OF A GRANDFATHER, CHAPTER VIII
There is nothing left now, above ground, of the ‘Greyfriars Church’ where Robert Bruce murdered the Red Comyn. The killing took place in the church of the old Franciscan priory which had been established in 1262 on the left bank of the River Nith in the centre of the old burgh. Bruce, to expiate his guilt, gave the Franciscans a generous annuity; but during the Reformation the priory disappeared.
The precise spot, masked by a row of glass bus-shelters, is now identified by a plaque on the wall between two windows of the yellow-and-red ‘£-stretcher’ shop at 9–13 Castle Street, almost opposite the present Greyfriars Church. It was erected by ‘the citizens of Dumfries and the Saltire Society’ in 1951:
Here stood the monastery
of the GREY FRIARS where
on Thursday 10th February
1306 ROBERT THE BRUCE
aided by
SIR ROGER KIRKPATRICK
slew THE RED COMYN and
opened the final stage
of the war for
SCOTTISH INDEPENDENCE
which ended victoriously on
the FIELD of BANNOCKBURN,
1314.
‘I Mak Siccar’
The words ‘I mak siccar’ (I make certain) are said to have been spoken not by Bruce but by one of his companions, Sir Roger de Kirkpatrick. The story goes that Bruce, after the stabbing, had rushed from the church, saying that he thought he had killed Comyn. Kirkpatrick was appalled that he had not finished the job, and ran into the church where he delivered the coup de grâce to the stricken Comyn.
Ironically, that was the one way in which Bruce would not ‘mak siccar’ his attempt on the throne. Some commentators have claimed that the killing of Comyn was premeditated, in order to get him out of the way of Bruce’s ambitions; but Bruce knew that he had to have Comyn support for his bid for the throne – and nothing could have been more disastrous for his chances than to antagonise the most powerful family in the land, not just by murder, but by sacrilegious murder at that.
But the deed was done, and the die was now cast – much sooner than Bruce could have wanted, and in much worse circumstances than he could have envisaged. If he was to have any chance of success he had to act, and act fast. Whatever contingency plans he might have discussed with Bishop Lamberton and others had to be brought forward in a hurry.
There was no time to lose. The Comyn castles in the south-west were seized, while Bruce went to Glasgow to try to make peace with the Church. He made his confession to Bishop George Wishart and received absolution for his sin; in exchange he swore an oath that, as king, he would be obedient to the clergy of Scotland. Then he rode off to be proclaimed king.
Six weeks after the murder, on 25 March 1306, Robert Bruce was inaugurated as King of Scots at Scone. It was a symbolic, simple and obviously makeshift ceremony. There was no Stone of Destiny on which to be enthroned – that had been removed by Edward I as part of his subjugation of Scotland in 1298. There were no royal robes, no sceptre, no royal sword and no bishops (although Bishop William Lamberton arrived two days later to celebrate High Mass for Bruce).
The traditional role of leading the new king to the throne should have been taken by the Earl of Fife, but he was only sixteen years old and still a ward of King Edward; in his place his aunt, Isabella of Fife, the Countess of Buchan, claimed her familial right to enthrone the king. She led Bruce to the throne and set a simple gold circlet on his head. The Earl of Buchan, who was in England at the time, was a cousin of the murdered Comyn, and Isabella’s defection to the Bruce cause was a terrible blow to him. It was to cost her dear: when she was captured by the English later that year she was imprisoned for four years in an open wooden cage which was suspended from the battlements of Berwick Castle.
The hurried coronation at Scone was the signal for the outbreak of civil war in Scotland. Bruce did not enjoy much support; he did not represent