'Quhen Alysandyr oure Kyng wes dede,
That Scotland led in luẅe and lé,
Away wes sons of ale and brede,
Off wyne and wax, off gamyn and glé:
'Oure gold wes changyd in to lede.
Cryst, borne in to Vyrgynyté,
Succoure Scotland and remede,
That stad [is in] perplexyté.'
Wyntoun, VII. fin.
A most fateful date in the history of Scotland was
the 19th of March 1285–86. In the dusk of that
memorable day, King Alexander III., riding along the
coast of Fife, near Kinghorn, was thrown over a precipice
and killed. He was only in the forty-fifth year of his
age, though in the thirty-seventh year of his reign. If
we take our stand at Kinghorn on the next melancholy
morning, and gaze backwards and forwards on the history
of the country, we shall witness the most impressive
contrast of peace and war that is presented in the annals
of Scotland, or perhaps of any civilised nation in the
world. This awful contrast forms a most essential element
in determining the judgment of history on the
policy of the Scots and of the English kings. At the
death of Alexander, Scotland was a most prosperous
country, steadily advancing in the arts of peaceful life—'more
civilised and more prosperous,' says Innes, with
the common assent of historians, 'than at any period of
her existence, down to the time when she ceased to be
a separate kingdom in 1707.' The policy of Edward I.,
however motived, was the prime cause of this lamentable
subversion of the tranquillity of a hundred years.
The shadows of coming trouble had fallen upon
Scotland before the death of Alexander III. The
family of the King had been swept away by death.
His first queen, Margaret, eldest daughter of Henry III.
and sister of Edward I. of England, had died in 1275.
His younger son, David, had died in 1280. His elder
son, Alexander, who married Margaret, daughter of Guy,
Count of Flanders, in 1282, had died without issue early
in 1283–84. His only daughter, who married Eric II.,
King of Norway, in 1281, had also died early in 1283–84,
leaving a daughter. Alexander was little over forty.
Still there is no assurance of length of days; and if he
should die there would be a minority, probably a
disputed succession, possibly an active revival of the
English claim to over-lordship. In these circumstances,
Alexander at once proceeded to take such precautions
as he could. He summoned a Parliament at Scone on
February 5, 1283–84, and obtained from his nobles
their solemn acknowledgment of Margaret, Princess of
Norway, as heiress of Scotland, failing issue of himself
and of his late son. Towards the end of next year, he
also married a second wife, Joleta (or Iolande), daughter
of the Count de Dreux; but she bore him no child.
Alexander must have often and anxiously reflected upon
the likelihood of a recurrence of such baronial rivalries
as had proved a grave danger to the country during his
own minority. On his tragic death on March 19,
1285–86, the hopes of the nation were left to rest upon
the fragile Maid of Norway.
For a short period the affairs of the kingdom maintained
a placid course. On April 11, 1286, the magnates
assembled at Scone, and selected six of their number
to act as a Council of Regency, with the official
designation of 'the Guardians of the Kingdom of Scotland
appointed by the common advice.' The Bishop of
St. Andrews and the Earls of Fife and Buchan were to
administer the districts north of the Forth; the Bishop
of Glasgow, Comyn of Badenoch, and James the Steward
of Scotland, were to rule the lands south of the Forth.
No question was raised as to the succession of the little
princess, and ostensibly there was every disposition on
the part of the barons to fulfil the solemn pledges they
had made to her grandfather two years before. It may,
however, be open to doubt whether intrigue had not
commenced to operate by the time that Alexander III.
was laid to rest at Dunfermline.
For one thing, there is extant a letter of credence,
dated Dunfermline, March 29, 1286, addressed to King
Edward by the Bishops of St. Andrews and Glasgow,
'in their own name, and in the name of the clergy,
earls, barons, and all others of the realm of Scotland,
who had been present at the burial of the lord Alexander
of good memory, the late illustrious King of Scotland,'
and commending to Edward's confidence the two
bearers, the Prior of the Dominicans of Perth and
brother Arnold. The two friars were to deliver an oral
communication, and bring back the King's answer.
There remains no record of the matter of either message
or reply. It is not easy to suppose that the business
was of no deeper import than formal and complimentary
intercourse. In view of the circumstances, it all but
certainly must have borne reference, in part at least, to
the settlement of the succession. The political record
of the Bishop of St. Andrews is not calculated to disarm
suspicion. Edward, at any rate, appears to have been
satisfied, for he presently embarked for France, and remained
away for more than three years.
Again, a few months later, Bruce of Annandale—ex-Chief-Justice
of England, smarting under his recent
supersession—Bruce and his principal adherents took
quiet action in view of contingencies. On September 20,
at his son's castle of Turnberry, fourteen Scots nobles—Patrick,
Earl of Dunbar, and three sons; Walter, Earl
of Menteith, and two sons; Bruce, lord of Annandale,
and two sons; James, Steward (and one of the Guardians)
of Scotland, and John his brother; and Angus, son of
Donald of the Isles, and his son—entered into a stringent
bond, obliging them to give faithful adherence to Richard
de Burgh, Earl of Ulster, and Lord Thomas de Clare
(brother of Gilbert, Earl of Gloucester, Edward's son-in-law
and Bruce's brother-in-law), 'in their affairs.' The
nature of these affairs is not indicated, neither is there
any other record of them. There is a suggestive clause
saving their fealty to the King of England, and to 'him
that shall obtain the kingdom of Scotland through blood
relationship with King Alexander of blessed memory,
according to the ancient customs in the Kingdom of
Scotland approved and observed.' There is no direct
reference to the child queen. It is useless to inquire
what was the business that Richard de Burgh and
Thomas de Clare had on hand or in contemplation.
Plainly the instrument was simply a diplomatic process
of binding all the parties together in support of such
action as Bruce might take on the advice of a majority
of their number, for advancing his pretensions to the
throne of Scotland, when opportunity should serve.
There is nothing to show that Edward ever had knowledge
of this bond.
Somewhere about this time, moreover, Bruce passed
from speculation to action. Balliol, in his pleadings
before Edward in 1291, averred that, in violation of their
oath of fealty to Queen Margaret, 'Sir Robert Bruce
and the Earl of Carrick, his son, attacked the castle of
Dumfries with fire and arms, and banners displayed, and
against the peace expelled the forces of the Queen, who
held the same. Hence Sir Robert advanced to the
castle of Buittle. He then caused a proclamation to be
made by one Patrick M'Guffock, within the bailiary of
the said castle,' with the result that good subjects were
driven from the land. 'Furthermore,' the allegation
ran, 'the Earl of Carrick, by the assent and power of
his father, took the Lady of Scotland's castle of Wigton,
and killed several of her people there.' A number of
entries in the Exchequer Rolls combine to support
Balliol's charge, and even to show that the wave of disturbance
was felt on the eastern seaboard. How Bruce
was brought back to peaceable ways does not appear.
The temporary stir occasioned by Bruce's eagerness
was the only ripple on the face of affairs for some three
years. Early in 1289, however, Edward seems to have
made up his mind to strengthen his hold on Scotland by
a marriage between the young Queen and Prince Edward
of Wales. The proposed parties, being cousins-german,
were within the degrees prohibited by the canon law;
and on May 8, Edward despatched Sir Otho de Grandison
to Rome, with letters from himself and a petition
from the Prince, soliciting from Pope Nicholas IV. the
necessary dispensation. The idea may have presented
itself to Edward's mind two years earlier; for on May
27, 1287, he had obtained a Bull from Pope Honorius IV.
permitting him to marry his children to relatives in the
fourth degree of affinity or consanguinity. However
this may be, in April and May 1289, envoys passed to
and fro between Edward and Eric on 'certain affairs,'
which were no doubt affairs tending in the direction of
the marriage. On November 6, commissioners representing
the three countries concerned met at Salisbury,
and concluded a treaty. Eric was to send the Queen
to England or to Scotland by November 1 next year, free
from matrimonial engagement. If she came to England,
Edward would, on the establishment of security and
peace in Scotland, and on the demand of the Scots
nation, send her to Scotland, in like manner free from
matrimonial engagement, provided 'the good nation of
Scotland' gave 'sufficient and good security' to Edward
not to marry her without the appointment and advice of
himself and the assent of the King of Norway. The
Scots envoys engaged to establish such order as to
secure the Queen in the quiet enjoyment of her realm.
The preamble of the treaty is framed so as to convey
that Eric was the prime mover in the business. He is
represented as having applied to Edward for aid and
advice, the object being to secure for Edward's niece
the obedience of her subjects and the free exercise and
enjoyment of her royal powers, after the manner of
other kings in their own kingdoms. On receiving this
appeal, Edward, in his zeal for the peace of Scotland,
and for the establishment of his niece in her rightful
position, invited the Guardians to send commissioners to
the Salisbury convention. But there can be no doubt
that Edward himself was the prime mover. Eric certainly
was loth to part with his child; he had made no
representation on her behalf to the Scots Guardians, nor
had they indicated any wish to have her in Scotland.
On the other hand, Edward's project of marriage would
naturally require her presence on this side of the North
Sea; and his influence with Eric was backed by a recent
loan of 2000 marks with easy arrangements for repayment,
which seems not to have been yet discharged. It
may be greatly doubted whether Edward was taking all
this trouble out of disinterested anxiety for the welfare
and royal status of his niece, or for the security of peace
on the English border. The treaty gives no hint that
the Salisbury commissioners had before them the marriage
contemplated by Edward; the terms of the engagement
of the Scots, as well as the absence of an
express statement, would seem to negative the idea.
Sufficient reason may be found in the fact that the dispensation
had not then been granted, as well as in
Edward's desire to proceed with most cautious steps.
It is to be remarked that not only in the treaty, but also
in the Prince's petition to the Pope, and in a communication
of Edward's addressed to the Scottish people on
the same day as the treaty was made, and counselling
the obedience of all to the Guardians, the great object of
the peace and reformation of Scotland is dwelt on with
suspicious emphasis. Sir Otho de Grandison returned
to London on December 31. With the irony of fate, the
dispensation, which had been granted (and acknowledged
handsomely in gold florins) on November 16, did not
arrive in the form of a Bull till October 9, 1290, almost
simultaneously with the arrival of the rumour of the
Queen's death.
At a conference held at Brigham on March 14, 1290,
the treaty of Salisbury was confirmed. Three days
later, the Guardians, who had now at least been informed
of Edward's intention and of the dispensation,
addressed a letter to Edward assenting to the proposed
marriage, and another letter to Eric urging him to send
Margaret at once to England. It may seem strange that
they should not have asked him to send her to Scotland;
but Edward obviously had laid great stress on the alleged
risks of the unsettled condition of the country; his solicitude,
from a family point of view, was not at all unreasonable;
probably enough he had impressed Eric with
anxiety on the same ground; and the Guardians seem
to have had no serious anticipation that their Queen's
grand-uncle would infringe the international friendship
of a century. The Guardians' letter to Eric was followed
by one from Edward in the same sense, on April 17.
Already the King's butler was down at Yarmouth, preparing
and victualling 'a great ship' to carry Edward's
plenipotentiary, Antony Bek, the astute and magnificent
Bishop of Durham, with an imposing retinue, to Norway.
The preparations took forty days; and at length Bek
sailed from Hartlepool on the 9th of May. Bek was an
adept in smoothing the diplomatic path; he distributed
judicious annuities to Norwegian friends to the extent of
£400 a year till the Queen should attain the age of
fifteen. Presumably the grand outfitting of the ship
implies that the Queen was expected to come over in it;
but it returned without her in June. It was not till
September that Eric set out with his daughter. In the
beginning of September, accordingly, Edward again
despatched Bek, this time to Orkney, to meet the Maid.
He was also attentive enough to send an ample variety of
jewels for the Queen's use. At almost every step in the
proceedings, the records betray his eager haste. The
Guardians exhibited no such fervour; it was not till
October 3 that they accredited their envoys, and already
they had been urged to action by Edward.
Meantime the Guardians had been taking thought
for the security of the kingdom. The negotiations with
Edward issued in the treaty of Brigham on July 18, 1290.
By this treaty it was provided that the laws, liberties, and
customs of Scotland should remain inviolate for ever,
and that the realm should remain separate from, and
entirely independent of, England. No parchment terms
could have done more to secure independence. There
was, indeed, an insidious saving clause, steadily recurrent,
which reserved such rights as Edward or others might
have; but whether intended to neutralise the specific
provisions or not, it must be regarded as purely formal.
The ardent development of Edward's care for his
grand-niece and his son ought to have been at least
suggestive. There remain two striking documents, dated
August 28. In one of them, the Guardians agree to
deliver the castles of Scotland under certain conditions
to their Queen and Prince Edward; and in the other,
Edward notifies the Guardians of his appointment of
Bishop Bek to act in concert with them as lieutenant
of the royal couple. For it was incumbent upon him to
respect his oath to maintain the laws of Scotland. He
even appears to have gone so far as to demand the
surrender of the castles to himself, but this demand
the Guardians refused.
The whole of the laborious structure was levelled to the
ground on October 7, when the Bishop of St. Andrews
reported to Edward the rumour of the Queen's death at
Orkney. The Queen had died on the passage from
'Norrowa' o'er the faem.' The details are unknown. The
very fact, indeed, has been questioned; for a young woman
claiming to be Margaret, and telling a circumstantial
story of her being kidnapped at Orkney on the voyage to
Scotland, was burnt at the stake at Bergen in 1301 as an
impostor. Be this as it may, the luckless Margaret now
passes out of the history of Scotland, leaving a divided
kingdom face to face with the aroused cupidity of a
determined, astute, and unscrupulous neighbour.
Who should now succeed Margaret on the Scottish
throne? Fordun relates that Malcolm, the first 'rex
Scotiae,' decreed a change in the principle of succession.
This enactment is said to have provided that thenceforth
each king should be succeeded by whoever was, at the
time being, the next descendant; that is, a son or a
daughter, a nephew or a niece, the nearest then living.
It is not at all unlikely that the disturbance of the
balance of the kingdom by the acquisition of Lothian
may have rendered the substitution of the Teutonic for
the Keltic law of succession expedient, or even necessary.
The claims of Balliol and Bruce alone need to be considered;
and if this law was formally established, the
letter of it would be a strong support to Bruce's candidature,
whatever the spirit of its intention. For the present
purpose, however, we are not concerned with the validity
of the claims of either competitor, but mainly with the
process whereby the final decision was reached. The
essential point is to discern the real spirit governing the
evolution of events.
The death of Margaret at once urged the competitors
to fresh activity. The Guardians were divided in their
sympathies, and the division no doubt ran deep into the
community. The first overt movement, so far as existing
documents indicate, was made by Bruce. It was an
indirect, tentative operation. Towards the end of the
year (1290), an appeal was preferred to Edward by 'the
seven earls' and the community of the realm of Scotland
against the Bishop of St. Andrews and Sir John Comyn
in respect of their action as Guardians. The appellants
asserted their privilege of placing the King of Scotland
on the throne, complained of acts of oppression exercised
by the Guardians on Donald Earl of Mar and the freemen
of Moray, narrated the recognition of Robert Bruce
of Annandale as next heir to the throne by Alexander II.,
and alleged some minor grievances. At this time there
were only four Guardians, the Earl of Fife having been
murdered and the Earl of Buchan having died; and the
two not inculpated, the Steward of Scotland and the
Bishop of Glasgow, were fast friends of Bruce. Mar
and Moray also leant to Bruce's faction. Evidently
the appeal was promoted in the interests of Bruce, and
with his knowledge, if not positively at his instigation.
There is no record of any answer.
There is a glimpse of still earlier action by Bruce in
the letter of the Bishop of St. Andrews to Edward, reporting
the rumour of the Queen's death. The rumour
arrived when the Estates were sitting to receive Edward's
answer to the refusal to surrender the castles to him.
Bruce, the Bishop says, had not intended to be present,
but, on hearing the rumour, had appeared with a strong
following. His ultimate intentions the Bishop could not
tell. Then follows a significant point. Should it unhappily
prove true that the Queen is dead, the Bishop
urges Edward to come to the marches without delay,
with the view of preventing bloodshed, and of aiding the
faithful of the land to place on the throne the man that
possesses the proper title—meaning, of course, Balliol.
To interpret the Bishop as merely currying favour with
the King is probably a large stretch of charity. He
certainly stood in a small minority in desiring Edward's
intervention. The chroniclers, indeed, relate how the
community of the realm, impressed by the ancient
friendship between the two kingdoms and the particular
cordiality of Alexander III. and Edward, invited the
English King to arbitrate on the claims of the competitors.
But no such invitation is traceable in the
records, and, on that ground alone, apart from the
strong probabilities, it may safely be believed that such
an invitation was never sent. There was not the least
occasion for it, on either side. It certainly would not
have represented the true feeling of the community of
Scotland; and no doubt Edward was fully aware of the
fact, for, in the whole transaction, he studiously treated
that body with very scant regard.
The Waverley Annalist states that in March 1291, on
the day after Ascension, Edward declared to his nobles,
in the presence of nine of the competitors, who at the
same time submitted their claims to him, that he was
resolved to subdue Scotland as he had recently subdued
Wales. But Edward was now on the peaceful tack of
legal process. The competitors, though mostly great
Scots nobles, were also mostly the liegemen of Edward
for large possessions in England; and not one of them
could dare to claim the throne of Scotland without regard
to Edward's opinion. It was quite inevitable that every
one of them should submit to his judgment. Besides
their material interests in England, they were of Norman
descent and of Norman upbringing and Norman sympathies,
and thus they were largely alien to the mass of
the Scottish population. Their interest in Scotland was
little, if anything, more than a matter of land and lordship.
They were quite content to take the kingdom of
Scotland as a bigger fief. It was therefore the most
natural thing in the world for them to leave the decision
of the case in the hands of their liege lord, the King of
England. For the community of Scotland the question
wore a wholly different aspect.
Edward had taken good care not to allow the matter
to slumber through the winter. He had sent forth
his commands to all the religious houses of the land,
requiring them to search diligently in their chronicles,
and to transmit to him speedily extracts of all such
passages as might bear on the relations of England
and Scotland. Such of these extracts as had come to
hand, he caused to be recited before his Parliament
assembled at Norham on May 10. By the mouth of his
Justiciary, Sir Roger le Brabazon, he set forth his solicitude
for the peace of Scotland and his anxiety to do
justice to all, and required the Scots prelates and nobles
to recognise his superiority and direct lordship—a claim
affirmed to be 'clear, from chronicles found in different
monasteries and other places in England and Scotland,
from other sources of information, from certain documents,
and on most evident reasons.' The Scots nobles
present, although previously informed of Edward's intentions,
represented their inability to reply without further
consultation with nobles and others not then present.
The meeting was adjourned till next day, when Bishop
Bek, not Edward personally, announced that they
might take three weeks, at the end of which time
they would be expected to produce any evidence they
might be able to find against the King's claim of
superiority.
Meantime the returns from the religious houses continued
to pour in. The Scots nobles also must have
exhibited anxiety for the independence of Scotland; for
on May 31 Edward made them a declaration that the
coming of the magnates and the Community of Scotland
to Norham should not be drawn into a precedent in
prejudice of the liberties of the realm. Then, on
June 2, the Scots nobles assembled on Upsetlington
Green—Holywell Haugh—on the north side of the
Tweed, opposite to Norham Castle. The Bishop of
Bath and Wells, Chancellor of England, with the usual
preliminary flourish about the gracious feelings and
intentions of Edward, informed them that the Kings of
England from the remotest times had held the over-lordship
of Scotland. They themselves, he pointed out,
had not even now brought forward any evidence in
disproof of Edward's claim. Edward, therefore, in the
exercise of his right, would proceed to investigate and
decide the rights of the claimants. Eight of these,
who were present, formally acknowledged Edward's
supremacy.
Next day the proceedings were resumed on the
English side of the Tweed, in the parish church of
Norham. Balliol, who had been absent on the previous
day, now made his acknowledgment. The Bishop of
Bath and Wells advanced Edward's pretensions another
step; he explained that Edward did not construe the
possession and exercise of his right of over-lordship as
excluding his hereditary right of lordship. Then, as to
the mode of proceeding towards the determination of
the claims of the competitors, Edward suggested that
the chief claimants, Balliol and Bruce, should each, on
behalf of themselves and such other competitors as
should agree, nominate forty arbiters or auditors, the
King himself being content to nominate twenty-four,
more or less, to hear the evidence and to report to
him, whereupon he would give his decision. The one
hundred and four arbiters were appointed accordingly on
July 5; and next day they fixed the hearing to take place
at Berwick, the King himself appointing August 2 as the
date.
The 11th of June had been a memorable day. The
Guardians formally resigned the kingdom and its castles
to Edward as over-lord. The Bishop of Caithness, on
the nomination of the Scots nobles, was appointed by
Edward Chancellor of Scotland; and with him was
associated the King's own clerk, Sir Walter de Amundesham
(Amersham), who was presently (August 18)
succeeded by Adam de Botingdon. Two days later,
Sir Brian Fitz Alan was associated with the Guardians in
Edward's interest; the first batch of Scots prelates and
barons swore fealty on the Holy Evangels; and Edward,
'as over-lord of Scotland,' ordered the governors of
castles in Scotland to deliver them over to governors of
his own appointment, the common consent of the Scots
Guardians and of the competitors being recorded; and
Edward, as over-lord, proclaimed his peace. On
June 17 a general order was issued that all freeholders
should swear fealty to Edward. The terms of the
ordinance as to homage and fealty, which had been
settled on June 12 at Norham by Edward 'with the
advice of the prelates and magnates of Scotland there
present,' were comprehensive and precise. They applied
to 'all, both clerical and lay, who would have been
bound to make homage and fealty to a living king of
Scotland.' All that came were to be admitted; those
that came and refused were to be arrested till performance;
those that did not come, but excused themselves
for good reason, were to be allowed till next Parliament;
those that neither came nor excused themselves were to
be 'more straitly distrained' till they conformed.
Thus, to all appearance, Edward held Scotland in the
grip of his iron hand—the reward of a patient diplomacy.
The great process was resumed on August 3 at
Berwick. The competitors, now increased to twelve,
presented their claims in technical form before the
hundred and four auditors. The first object was to
decide the point of law at issue between Balliol and
Bruce, namely, whether the nearer descendant by the
younger child or the more remote descendant by the
elder child had the preferable title. 'Perhaps,' as
Burton says, 'the policy of the arrangement lay in this,
that in Bruce and Balliol, and those they might bring
with them, the Lord Superior knew whom he had to
deal with personally; among a set of miscellaneous
strangers, bringing their friends and supporters into the
controversy, he might find troublesome people.' The
question, if in some sense 'a by-question between two
claimants,' nevertheless went to the root of the claims of
the two competitors that were obviously first in the
running. The proceedings went on, without getting
much farther forward, till August 12, when Edward
adjourned the sittings to June 2, 1292.
It had been alleged that some document founded
upon by the Count of Holland was missing, and this
gave the King a welcome opportunity of further demonstrating
his resolution to do justice to the last iota. On
this 12th of August he appointed certain commissioners
to examine all documents presented by suitors or 'in
any way touching us and our kingdom,' whether in Edinburgh
Castle or elsewhere in Scotland. Under the order
many papers were carried away and deposited in Berwick
Castle. It does not appear that anything of importance
or of immediate relevance was discovered. Certainly
Edward found nothing to support his claim of over-lordship,
otherwise he would have utilised it, and had it
carefully recorded. Whatever his real intention in
directing the search, his subsequent dealings with Scotland
gave colour—and probably quite false colour—to
later allegations charging him with the express purpose of
wantonly destroying the national records. During the
next five or six days (August 13–18), Edward manifested
his satisfaction with events in a manner peculiarly
pleasing to some half-dozen Scots magnates. There
remains a record of certain grants he made to the
Bishop of Glasgow, James Steward of Scotland, Earl
Patrick of Dunbar, Sir John de Soulis, Sir William de
St. Clair, Sir Patrick de Graham, and Sir William de
Soulis. These grants are expressed to be made for
various expenditure, and 'also for the zeal' the grantee
'had and has to promote peace and tranquillity among
the people' of Scotland. The record, however, is cancelled
in the Rolls, for the very sufficient reason that
the particular grants were not made after all, equivalents
being given instead. Every reader may make his own
comment.
While English counsels ruled the policy of the Guardians,
and English castellans stretched their mailed hands over
Scotland from the strongholds, the great cause dragged
on. At length, June 2, 1292, came round, and Edward
resumed the process at Berwick. A thirteenth competitor
now presented himself—Eric, King of Norway. Edward
professed anxiety to reach a decision, for was he not
moved by the sore desolation of Scotland? Still the contest
surged about the claims of Bruce and Balliol. How
to arrive at the right decision? The Scots auditors would
greatly assist the King to expedite matters if they would
inform him on what laws and customs he is to proceed.
The Scots auditors are helpless to decide without further
consideration and advice; perhaps the English auditors
would aid them? The English auditors join in consultation,
but they shrink from answering without further and
more precise advice, which they might perhaps obtain
from the prelates and nobles of England. Apparently,
then, there must be a further adjournment. Edward
accordingly fixed October 14 for next meeting, and stated
that in the meantime he and the rest of the parties
interested would take the best advice to be found anywhere
in the two kingdoms.
It is not relevant to the present purpose to pursue the
arguments of the October meeting. On the 15th the
case was closed, no doubt after private diplomatic dealing
with the competitors. On November 17, Edward announced
his decision in great state in the hall of Berwick
Castle—in favour of Balliol. Thereupon he issued orders
to the Guardians to deliver seisin of the kingdom to the
new King, and to the castellans of the twenty-three chief
strongholds to deliver them over to Balliol or his representatives.
On the 20th, Balliol swore fealty to Edward at
Norham; on the 30th he was enthroned at Scone; then
he went back to Newcastle-on-Tyne, and, having eaten his
Christmas dinner with his over-lord, did homage to him
next morning as an invested King. On January 2, by
letters patent, sealed by Balliol, by two great prelates, and
by ten of the principal nobles of Scotland, Edward was
acquitted of all obligations incurred by him while the
country was in his hands; and two days later he acknowledged
that his rights in Scotland were limited to homage
and its pertinents. Some special favours of a pecuniary
nature within the next few months intimate Edward's satisfaction
with his royal henchman. But these marks of the
over-lord's pleasure were far from counterbalancing the
dissatisfaction openly and ominously manifested in his
kingdom of Scotland.
Two or three points in this prolonged process invite
particular remark. In the first place, as Burton justly
points out,
'What confers a strange interest on the selfish squabble and
the array of technicalities and pleadings called out by it, is that
there is no more allusion to the rights of the Community of Scotland,
or the way in which a decision may affect them, than there
need be in any private litigation. They have no more place in
the question than the tenants on an estate while the settlements
are disputed. So far as one can gather from the terms of the
documents, it never seems to have occurred to the greedy litigants
themselves or their astute technical advisers, that there was a fierce
self-willed people, nourished in independence and national pride,
who must be bent or broken before the subtleties and pedantries of
the Lord Superior's court would be of any avail. Totally unconscious
they seem also to have been that the intricate technicalities
which dealt with a sovereign independent State as a mere piece
of property in search of an owner, formed an insult never to be
forgiven, whatever might be the cost of repudiation and vengeance.'
Edward himself, however, was gifted with a deeper insight
than all the rest. He at least was thoroughly aware of the
deeper elements of the problem, and of their difficult character.
At the Upsetlington meeting, while the prelates
and nobles had nothing to urge against Edward's claims—for
Wyntoun's record of the Bishop of Glasgow's bold
denial of the pretended right of superiority must be held
in suspense—the 'Community' of Scotland undoubtedly
presented a protest. What this body had to say on the
point, most unfortunately we do not know. It finds no
place in the very full record of proceedings preserved in
the Great Roll of Scotland. There is, however, no doubt at
all that some answer was made, and that it was set aside
as 'nothing to the point' (nihil efficax). But Burton's
comment deserves to be carefully borne in mind. 'Transactions,'
he shrewdly remarks, 'are profusely recorded,
as if for the purpose of courting all inquiry into doubts or
difficulties that might affect conclusions, yet one ever feels,
throughout all this candour, that the truth is to be found
somewhere behind, and that the abundance of punctilious
record is devised to conceal it.' The exclusion of all
notice of the action of the Community from the official
record must be taken to have been deliberate. But it was
an act of policy, not of inappreciation, on the part of the
King.
There is another element in certain documents of the
time that confirms this conclusion in a very striking
manner. In the official record of the case, Edward is
designated Lord Superior at every turn. There is a
marked contrast, however, in the order he directed to each
of the Scots castellans to deliver over their strongholds
to English successors. 'In the preamble,' Burton points
out, 'Edward does not make display of his office of Lord
Superior, as in the documents which were not to go to Scotland.
He is Edward, King of England, Lord of Ireland,
and Duke of Guienne; and he demands delivery of the
fortress by assent of the Guardians and of the several
candidates, and only towards the conclusion does he
briefly bring in his title of "Soveryn Seygnur."' In this
order, as well as in the order as to fealty, he judiciously
associates with himself the prelates and magnates of the
realm of Scotland. Obviously, he exercised sleepless discretion
in the pushing of his claims, with a careful eye on
the possible effects in a high-spirited community.
A word may also be said on the functions of the
auditors. From the record of their appointment, it would
seem to be plain enough that they were intended to sit
together as a single board of referees. The magnanimity
of Edward and his confidence in the justice of his cause
were not ignored by the English chroniclers; eighty to
twenty-four manifests a generosity of fairness. But then
we have already seen that the auditors did not, at any rate
always, act as a single body. At a late stage of the proceedings,
two questions arose: By what law should the
question be tried—by the Imperial (that is, the Civil or
Roman) law, or by the laws and customs of England or
Scotland? Is there any specialty in rank or dignity of
this kingdom of Scotland that should exempt it from being
adjudicated upon like the other tenures of the realm?
'On these two questions,' says Burton, 'King Edward's
own council of twenty-four were alone consulted. "Those
of Scotland," as the persons selected by Bruce and Balliol
were termed, had no opportunity of recording their opinion
on these, which, of all the questions put, were the most
eminently national in their character.' This is a somewhat
startling result, in view of the expectations raised by
the terms of appointment. 'Yet,' Burton proceeds, 'it
was so managed that they too should appear to have had
a voice. It was put to the claimants, Balliol and Bruce,
and to the eighty of Scotland selected by them, whether
they could show any cause why the kingdom of Scotland—a
fief of the King of England—should be treated differently
from earldoms, baronies, and other tenures. Under nice
distinctions in the ways of putting questions, the broad
fact can be distinctly traced, that the twenty-four of England
were advisers or referees of the supreme judge,
Edward himself, as to the judgment to be given, while the
eighty of Scotland were merely the advisers of the two
claimants as to the position they should take up as
litigants—what they should admit, and what they should
dispute. Accordingly, the eighty are not heard in answer
to the questions put; the competitors, Balliol and Bruce,
give the answers.' Even, however, if the apparent intention
to constitute a single board of 104 had been consistently
maintained, the result would have been practically
the same. The Balliol and the Bruce men would
have neutralised each other, and the English twenty-four
would have decided every point—and that, too, inevitably
in the sense conformable to the mind of the King of England.
The whole process was a gigantic palaver, impressing
the grandeur, the legality, and the considerateness of
Edward, while utilised as a cloak and a means for the
remorseless prosecution of his designs upon the independence
of Scotland.
It remains to inquire briefly into the substantial
validity of the claim of over-lordship. It might augur
industrious adventure to penetrate to the misty age of
Brute the Trojan and Scota the daughter of the King
of Egypt. It would be little less futile to trace the
records of the chronicles collected by Edward from the
time of Edward the Elder down through four centuries.
It is hardly worth while even to deal with the submission
of William the Lion when he was accidentally captured
in 1174, before Alnwick Castle, on a raid into the north
of England. The facts have been obscured by the
greater anxiety of historians to fit them in with their
preconceptions than to ascertain precisely the meaning
of the plain record. If the release of William's obligations
by Richard for 10,000 marks, to eke out his
preparations for a crusade, has any meaning at all, it
means clearly the restoration of the absolute independence
of Scotland. The treaty of Falaise 'created the
new condition of vassal and superior from that date';
and the Canterbury transactions released William from
all the engagements that Henry II. thereby 'extorted
from him,' as Richard's charter phrases it, 'by new
deeds and by consequence of his captivity.' The competitor
that submitted to Edward that Richard could not
legally release the homage of Scotland, was either praise-worthily
exhaustive or hopelessly barren of argument.
It seems to demand a facile credulity to believe that
William gave 10,000 marks to be released from one
ground of an obligation that still remained valid against
him on another ground not even specified in express
terms, or that Richard placidly went off to the crusade,
leaving on the northern marches of England an inviting
opportunity to an active and aggrieved neighbour. That
William should do homage for his estates in England
was a matter of course, but quite a different matter.
Henry III. appears indeed to have entertained the
claim of over-lordship. There is no reference to homage,
however, in connection with the treaty of Newcastle.
Henry and Alexander II. simply engaged not to abet
each other's enemies, and not to invade each other's
territories without just provocation. Nor, when Alexander
III. succeeded to the throne in 1249, at the age of
seven, did Henry put forward any claim of wardship—a
fact especially significant of the relations between the
kingdoms. It is no doubt true that Henry prayed Pope
Innocent IV. to prohibit the anointing and crowning of
the child King of Scots, on the ground that Alexander
was his liege vassal; for so much appears from the
Pope's letter of refusal, dated 1251. But Henry does
not seem to have proceeded further in the matter. It
is stated that, on the occasion of Alexander's marriage
with his daughter Margaret in 1252 at York, Henry
demanded homage for Scotland as a fief holden of
England; and that the reply of the boy King, that he
could not take such an important step without the knowledge
and assent of his parliament, closed the question.
The reply bears evident witness to the vigilance of Alexander's
advisers. The like vigilance is to be remarked in
the terms of the safe-conduct of Alexander and his queen
to England in 1260. Neither the King nor his attendants
should be required to treat of State affairs during
the visit. In fact, Henry III., whatever his theoretical
claims, never exercised the right of over-lordship. On
the contrary, whenever he did interfere in the affairs of
Alexander's kingdom, it was in the capacity of a friendly
father-in-law, and under the style of 'Principal Councillor
to the illustrious King of Scotland.'
The case of 1278 is strikingly illustrative. In that
year Alexander did homage to Edward I. at Westminster,
and the fact is recorded in a transcript of a Close Roll
in absolute terms: 'I, Alexander, King of the Scots,
become liege man of the Lord Edward, King of the
English, against all nations.' Allen verified the entry,
and found that the writing was upon an erasure. The
suspicion aroused by the erasure is not lightened by the
record of the proceedings preserved in the register of
Dunfermline Abbey. There the scribe expressed the
homage of Alexander very differently: 'I become your
man for the lands which I hold of you in the kingdom
of England, for which I owe you homage, saving my
kingdom.' Furthermore, it is added: 'Then said the
Bishop of Norwich, "And saving to the King of England,
if he right have, your homage for your kingdom," to
whom the King instantly replied, saying openly, "To
homage for my kingdom of Scotland no man has right,
except God alone, nor do I hold that kingdom otherwise
than of God alone."' The vague and insidious use of
such expressions as 'if he right have,' or 'whatever
right he may have,' or 'whenever he chooses to exercise
his right,' fostered the tendency to elevate a claim into
a right. It indicates that there actually existed no right
capable of definite formulation on firm grounds, or at
any rate no right capable of assertion. The gross falsification
of such records permits us to hold the Dunfermline
scribe as at least an equal authority with the
Westminster scribe. This convenient vagueness of
suggestion of right reappears with like tameness in the
tail of the treaty of Brigham.
Did King Edward honestly believe that he was
entitled to the homage of the new King of Scots?
The question may be least ungraciously answered by
another question: Supposing the sides reversed, would
Edward have submitted with intellectual conviction to
the same claim advanced against himself on the same
grounds? We decline to libel his intelligence. It is
impossible to believe that he cared one atom for the
chronicles he marshalled so industriously, except for indirect
purposes. It is easy enough to understand that
his conceptions of policy could readily justify a wrong
as ministerial to what he conceived to be a higher right.
Uneasy lay the head that wore the crown of Scotland.
The flatteries of King John's friends could not blind him
to his isolation. The formal respect rendered to him
often betrayed, not merely reluctance, but defiance and
contempt. The leading men of the dissident factions
soon proceeded to remove his friends from his side and to
surround him with strangers, and even to take out of his
control the direction of affairs. The St. Albans Annalist
records that John dare not open his mouth, lest his
people in their rage should starve him or throw him
into a dungeon; 'he was like a lamb in the midst of
wolves.'
John's uneasiness was not mitigated by the action of
his suzerain. Edward mixed his early complaisances
with disagreeable reminders. Thus, on December 31,
1292, he required John to attend at Newcastle on
the appeal of Roger Bartholomew, a burgess of Berwick.
It was in vain that John pointed Edward to the convention
of Brigham, under which no Scotsman was to be
required to plead in any legal proceeding out of the
realm of Scotland; Edward insisted on the cancelment,
not only of the convention, but of every document,
known or unknown, calculated to restrict in any way the
free exercise of his superiority. Again, on March 8,
John was cited to answer in the English court for denial
of justice to the indefatigable John Mazun, a merchant of
Gascony, who had a big claim against the late Alexander
III. In a fortnight's time, March 25, John was again
cited to appear before the English parliament to answer
an appeal of Macduff of Kilconquhar from a decision of
the Scots parliament in February. John did not appear.
He was again cited to appear on October 14. He
did appear then, but the only answer to be extracted
from him was that he dare not act without consultation
with the Estates of his realm—an answer probably put
in his mouth by his Stirling parliament in August. He
was cast in heavy damages; and, on the principle that
the wrongdoer should be curtailed in the means of wrongdoing,
it was resolved that the three principal castles in
Scotland, with their towns, should be delivered over
to the Lord Superior till his vassal should have purged his
contumacy. John humbled himself, however, before
judgment was formally given, and Edward granted a
further postponement. Meantime, in June and September,
two more summonses had come; and two more
followed in November. The English parliament had,
indeed, passed certain standing orders, including one
that admitted no excuse of absence from either party.
John was bound to be constantly trotting up and down,
on the most trivial matters. Edward was undoubtedly
within his technical rights, and, as Lord Hailes says, he
was bent on exercising them 'with the most provoking
rigour.' 'It is easy to see,' as Burton remarks, 'that
his immediate object was to subject his new vassal to
deep humiliation.'
Meantime the King of France was preparing to mete
out to Edward the same measure as Edward was meting
out to John. He summoned Edward to answer before
the Twelve Peers in December for certain acts of aggression
of Englishmen upon French subjects in the preceding
spring. Regarding the summons as a pretext for the
annexation of his French dominions, Edward stayed at
home and temporised; but in February Philip declared
him contumacious, and in May pronounced forfeiture of
his fiefs. Edward kept up negotiations, but prepared for
war; and, as over-lord of Scotland, he summoned Balliol
and twenty-one Scots magnates to join him with their
forces at London on September 1, 1294. John attended
the English parliament, and contributed three years'
rental of his large English estates. But his magnates
disregarded the summons, and, when pressed, alleged
their inability.
Edward's difficulties between France and Wales, as
well as at home, furnished both encouragement and
opportunity to the discontent seething in Scotland. A
parliament was held at Scone. The Estates dismissed
all English court officials, and appointed a Council of
Twelve, probably after the model of the Twelve Peers
of the King of France, to conduct the government.
John was formally reduced to a figure-head. Urged by
his Council, and stung by the humiliations heaped upon
him by Edward, he entered into a secret alliance, offensive
and defensive, with Philip of France, under which
his son and heir, Edward Balliol, was to marry Philip's
niece, the eldest daughter of Charles, Count of Valois
and Anjou. John accredited his envoys to Philip in
July 1295; the treaty was signed by Philip in October;
and John ratified it at Dunfermline on February 23,
1295–96, with the assent, not only of his prelates and
nobles, but also of the chief burgh corporations and other
public bodies of the kingdom. The scheme was carefully
placed 'on a broad popular basis,' and it seems to
have been arranged with as little publicity as was consistent
with a wide representation of the nation. 'This
was the starting of that great policy which had so much
influence for centuries on both sides of the British
Channel—the policy of France and Scotland taking
common counsel against England.'
In the course of the early autumn of 1295, it is likely
that Edward got wind of John's treasonable doings. He
issued summonses for his memorable parliament of
November. Perhaps as a feeler, he required John
to expel all Frenchmen and Flemings, his enemies,
from Scotland; otherwise, to put in his hands the three
castles and towns of the eastern frontier—Berwick, Roxburgh,
and Jedburgh. The first alternative was firmly
refused; but it appears from an existing document that
the castles were delivered over to the Bishop of Carlisle.
On October 16, there are two remarkable records: one
is the engagement of Edward to his 'beloved and faithful'
John to redeliver the three castles and towns at the
end of the French war; the other is a circular order
to all the sheriffs in England to take into the King's hand
all the lands and goods of Balliol and of all other Scotsmen
staying in Scotland, within their respective jurisdictions.
Were these castles ever delivered to Edward?
That is to say, was the engagement of October 16 (with
the order to the Bishop to take delivery, dated
October 12) only anticipative, and never operative?
There is, indeed, strong historical support to the view
that the Scots absolutely refused both alternatives, and
shook in Edward's face Pope Celestine's absolution of
them from homage and fealty. The confiscation order
was probably Edward's counterstroke. It was followed
up on February 13 by an order for the sale of all goods
on such lands, excepting only agricultural stock and
implements, the proceeds to go into the Exchequer.
The inevitable collision was precipitated by an outbreak
at Berwick, in which some English merchants
were killed and their goods seized. On February 23,
Edward issued urgent orders to hurry up the forces
appointed to meet him at Newcastle-on-Tyne, directing
that 'neither for assizes, gaol deliveries, or any other
business' is the Sheriff of York to hinder the men of
his county from arriving on the day fixed, apparently
March 1. He summoned John to Newcastle to answer
for the Berwick riot and his breaches of allegiance, but of
course John declined the invitation.
About the middle of March, Edward moved to Wark,
just abandoned by the romantically traitorous Robert
de Ros; but he appears to have had scruples about commencing
the invasion of Scotland till Easter was past.
Then, on March 28, he passed the Tweed with 30,000
foot and 5000 armed horse, and on March 30 he took
Berwick town without any effective opposition. As
Burton records—
'There is an awful unanimity of testimony to the merciless use
made of the victory. The writer who knew best of all describes
the King as rabid, like a boar infested with the hounds, and issuing
the order to spare none; and tells how the citizens fell like the
leaves in autumn, until there was not one of the Scots who could
not escape left alive, and he rejoices over their fate as a just
judgment for their wickedness.'
The gallantry of the Flemings in defence of their Red
Hall only ensured their destruction. 'Thus it was on
the community among whom the protection of the Lord
Superior was first sought that his vengeance first fell.'
Berwick, 'the great city of merchant princes,' a 'second
Alexandria,' was reduced to a common market-town.
'Such a massacre,' says Pearson, 'had not been witnessed
within the four seas since the ravage of the North
by the Conqueror. From this time a sea of blood lay
between the English King and his Scottish dominion.'
The castle was surrendered the same day by Sir William
Douglas, on guarantee of the lives of the garrison.
Edward remained at Berwick nearly a month, actively
refortifying the town.
It was in Berwick Castle, on April 5, that Edward
received John's formal renunciation. John bluntly complained
that he had been vexatiously cited to England
at the trifling instance of anybody and everybody; that,
without fault on his part, Edward had taken possession
of his and his subjects' castles, lands, and possessions
within his kingdom of Scotland; that Edward had taken
his and his subjects' goods by land and sea, and resetted
them in England; that Edward had killed merchants and
other inhabitants of his kingdom; that Edward had
forcibly carried off subjects of his from Scotland, and
detained them in prison in England; that Edward
had paid no heed to his representations; and that
Edward had publicly summoned his army, and had now
come with 'an innumerable multitude of armed men'
to strip him and his subjects of their inheritance, and had
approached with hostile intent the boundaries of his
kingdom—nay, had crossed them, and had committed
atrocities of slaughter, arson, and violence by land and
sea. John therefore resigned fealty and homage on
behalf of himself and all others of his realm that might
adhere to him. 'Has the felon fool done such a silly
thing?' the King is said to have exclaimed. 'If he will
not come to us, we will go to him.' But it is far from
apparent why Edward should have manifested any such
surprise.
On March 26, while Edward lay at Wark, a large body
of Scots, under Comyn, Earl of Buchan, made a foray from
Annandale into Cumberland, assaulting Carlisle (where
Bruce of Annandale was governor), and burning a large
part of the city. On April 8, too, a foray was made by
the same body from Jedburgh into Northumberland,
wasting Coquetdale and Redesdale, and burning Corbridge,
Hexham, and Lanercost. These expeditions
were futile and inglorious efforts of retaliation. The
troops returned to Jedburgh, and then took possession
of Dunbar Castle, to reduce which Edward despatched
a strong force under Warenne. The governor of the
castle, Sir Richard Siward, agreed with Warenne to
surrender unless relieved within three days. On the
morning of the third day, Balliol's army came in sight,
and, mistaking an irregularity of movement of the
English troops for a retreat, rushed upon them from a
stronger position, and was defeated, with fearful slaughter.
Barons and squires crowded for refuge in the castle; Sir
Patrick de Graham, whose fruitless valour extorted the
unanimous admiration of Englishmen, died sword in
hand. The castle surrendered next day to Edward
himself, who consigned the flower of the fighting strength
of Scotland to a score of castles in England and Wales.
There is much reason to doubt whether Siward did not
prove a traitor; and it looks as if the Scots nobles were
entirely ignorant of his agreement for surrender.
Scotland lay prostrate before the invader. Having
appointed constables of the eastern border castles,
Edward marched on Edinburgh, which surrendered
after an eight days' siege. At Stirling he encountered
no opposition: all had fled. Yet the record of the gaol
delivery at Stirling on June 19 affords an interesting
glimpse of the spirit of resistance. Thomas, the chaplain
of Edinburgh, who was charged with publicly excommunicating
the King with bell and candle, confessed
frankly that he did so in the King's despite; and Richard
Gulle, charged with ringing the bell, likewise confessed.
Both culprits were, by order of Edward, delivered to the
Archdeacon of Lothian.
On July 7, in the churchyard of Stracathro, John
renounced his treaty with the King of France. And
on July 10, in Brechin Castle, he formally resigned his
kingdom and people, with his royal seal, to the Bishop
of Durham, on behalf of the King of England. There
was an end of 'Toom Tabard' as King of Scotland.
He was kept in England at Hertford, the Tower, and
elsewhere, till July 18, 1299, when he was delivered by
Sir Robert de Burghersh, Constable of Dover, to the
Papal Nuncio, Reynaud, Bishop of Vincenza, at Wissant
in France, 'for disposal by his Holiness.' He lived to
hear of the decisive victory of Bannockburn.
From the middle of March onwards to autumn,
homage and fealty were performed up and down Scotland
to Edward and his representatives. Edward
himself passed north to Elgin, and after a triumphal
progress of twenty-one weeks returned to Berwick on
August 22. He appointed John de Warenne, Earl of
Surrey and Sussex, Governor of Scotland; Sir Hugh de
Cressingham, Treasurer; and Sir William de Ormsby,
Justiciar. He committed the subordinate wardenships,
castles, and sheriffdoms to English officers. He made
arrangements for the establishment of a new Treasury at
Berwick, on the model of the Treasury at Westminster.
He broke in pieces the ancient Great Seal of Scotland,
and substituted a new seal. He had enforced his
'property and possession' of the realm of Scotland.
Yet he left behind him the active germs of retribution.
Among Edward's spoliations were two notable national
possessions. One was the Black or Holy Rood, 'a
certified fragment of the true Cross preserved in a shrine
of gold or silver gilt.' It had been brought over by
St. Margaret, who left it as a sacred legacy to her
descendants and their realm. The other, an even more
honoured possession, was the Stone of Destiny—'the
palladium of Scotland.' It was reputed to have been
Jacob's pillow what time he saw the vision of the angels
ascending and descending the ladder, and to have been
brought to Scotland by the eponymous Scota the
daughter of Pharaoh. It was enshrined in the coronation
chair of the Kings of Scotland. Edward had it
similarly enshrined in a chair that became the coronation
throne of the Kings of England. His superstition
might have been overawed by the prophetic couplet—Boece
says inscription—
'Ni fallat fatum, Scoti, quocunque locatum
Invenient lapidem, regnare tenentur ibidem.'
That is to say:
'Unless the Fates are faithless grown,
And prophet's voice be vain,
Where'er is found this sacred stone,
The Scottish race shall reign.'
For a hundred years before the death of Alexander III.,
the peaceful administration and firm policy of the Scottish
kings had immensely strengthened Scotland both in
her internal organisation and in her external influence.
It had inspired respect in the strongest of contemporary
English sovereigns. Between Alexander III. and Edward
I. there prevailed a genuine cordiality, based not
more on family relationship than on political conduct.
On the unexpected death of Alexander, the active mind
of Edward must very promptly have perceived a great
opportunity of annexing Scotland, as he had just
annexed Wales. But strong-handed and imperious as he
was, he was also governed by ideas of legal procedure,
and still more by policy. Warrior as he was, he would
still prefer to attain his ends by politic address. He
could not in decency raise his mailed hand against the
infant granddaughter of his own sister, or arbitrarily
pick a quarrel with a friendly nation at accidental disadvantage
by the tragic and premature death of his
amicable brother-in-law. The project of marrying the
child Queen to his eldest son was a stroke of policy of
the happiest conception for the peaceful attainment of
his purposes. The death of the Queen and the rivalry of
the competitors threw him on fresh lines of action,
plausibly justifiable by the necessity of protecting his
own kingdom from the results of internal discord on
the northern border. The prolongation of the dispute
as to the succession appears to have been very much
due to his waiting for the opening up of the smoothest
line of advance. The preference of Balliol, after an
ostentatiously elaborate process of legal formality, not
only wore the aspect of a profound homage to law, but
also placed on the throne of Scotland the candidate that
would be most plastic in his hands. The successive
steps show clearly, from the first idea of the marriage at
least, the gradual and deliberate tightening of a resolute
grasp upon the kingdom of Scotland. If Edward had
really believed that he was entitled to the over-lordship
of Scotland, it is extremely difficult to understand why
he did not at once claim the wardship of the infant
Margaret. The enforcement of such a claim would
have been awkward enough at a moment when he needed
all his force elsewhere; but he might at least have put it
forward. He could not have been unaware of this right
if it had actually existed. Again, as Macpherson says, 'it
seems very surprising that he did not claim the crown of
Scotland for himself as heir of Malcolm Kenmore, whose
grand-daughter Mald was his great-great-grandmother.'
Such an astute intellect as his could not have been
impressed with the documentary authorities arrayed by
patriotic priests and supported by sycophantic officials.
It is not easy to resist the conclusion that the claim was
neither more nor less than a fraudulent contrivance of a
semblance of legality to cover the aggression of a
rapacious ambition. If the persecution of John was
purely the outcome of Edward's 'exasperating legality,'
it does as little credit to his political capacity as the
atrocity of his vengeance at Berwick and his tyrannical
settlement of the conquered country. Already, however,
in the breast of an obscure young man in an obscure
district of the west of Scotland there were surging
turbulent feelings of personal and patriotic resentment,
destined eventually to overturn all these calculations of
ambitious aggression. That young man was William
Wallace of Elderslie.
