Nigel Tranter - The Price of the King's Peace

Bruce required his churchmen’s help and advice for more than mere civil administration and the day-to-day running of the kingdom.

After his military rebuffs in the Borders and at Donibristle, in life nearby, Edward of England, far from conceding the desired peace treaty, had turned to Rome for aid in his warfare against Bruce and Scotland.

And the present Pope had found it convenient to pay heed. He was

attempting to organise a crusade against the Turks, and desired the

adherence of England. Scotland he appeared to consider as not worth

including in the matter. He proceeded, therefore, at Edward’s request,

to fulminate against Scotland in general and Robert Bruce in

particular. He ordained a compulsory two-year truce between the two

countries, and addressed a Bill to the King of England and to “Robert

Bruce who carried himself as King of Scotland”. He also commanded that

the Scots immediately stopped besieging the English in BerwickonTweed

* an unusual provision in a papal bull. And he sent two cardinals to present his commands-a subtle move.

Bruce had lived under the papal frown for years. But this new assault

was serious, in that it specifically denied him recognition as true

king before all the princes of Christendom, so implying that he was not

a person with whom any Christian ruler could properly conclude any

agreement or treaty. Not only would England, therefore, be sustained

in its reluctance to enter into a peace treaty, but other and more

friendly nations were also thus inhibited from establishing and

maintaining relations. Scotland was to be a pariah amongst the

peoples.

This was all a great blow, of course, not only to Bruce but to Lamberton the Primate, who had anointed him King and consistently supported him-as well as to all the other clerics of the realm. They were loath to rebel openly against the authority of the Holy See, from whom they drew their own spiritual authority. A policy of pressure and counter-intrigue at Rome, allied to a masterly inactivity at home, was their obvious recourse; but the former took time, and much money, to arrange intrigues at Rome as elsewhere being largely a matter of massive bribery. And this device of sending the two cardinals was a notably skilful move, since these Princes of the Church outranked Lamberton. They were heading for Scotland via London-where they collogued with King Edward-and Durham, where Lewis de Beaumont was about to be consecrated and installed Prince-Bishop of the Palatinate.

At a Privy Council at Dunfermline in September, Lamberton strongly

contended that they must do all in their power to keep the cardinals

out of Scotland for against their rank and authority, his own authority must yield and go down.

“How can we keep them out?” the King demanded.

“They have announced to the world that they are coming. You would not have me to use force against the representatives of Holy Church? Such representatives!”

“Not force, no. But a little guile perhaps,” the Bishop suggested.

“Prevail upon them to send, in the first instance, envoys, nuncios, of lesser rank. To prepare their way. Men whom I, as Primate here, can outspeak. So that I may seek to teach them their lesson, to take back to their masters.”

“Aye, but how is that to be done, my lord?” Bishop Sinclair of

Dunkeld, the hero of Donibristle, asked.

“How to make these cardinals send nuncios? They are already at Durham for this Beaumont enthroning. What will halt them now?”

“We, the bishops of Scotland, could send them a message of welcome, my friend. Greetings to our illustrious brothers in Christ.

But at the same time urge that they delay a little.” He glanced at

the

“Say that we are uncertain as to how our liege lord Robert might

receive their eminences. In view of the unkind, and we are sure

incorrect, accounts that have reached Scotland. As to the Holy

Father’s pontifications. Until these are put right, these

misunderstandings cleared, we urge discretion. We are concerned that the Holy Father’s lofty emissaries be received with the respect and honour due to their high office. So we advise that they send nuncios to prepare the way.”

“Ha-guile indeed!” Lennox said.

“And these envoys? How would you serve them, my lord Bishop?”

“Indifferently. Confusedly. Send them back to Durham in greater doubt than heretofore. As to their masters’ reception in Scotland. But with an invitation for the cardinals to attend the celebrations at the consecration of my cathedral at St. Andrews next year. So that there is no hint of unwelcome. From Holy Church.”

“I do not fully see the wherefore of this,” the King observed.

“Time we need, Sire. Time for representations to Rome. Time for our friends there to serve our cause. Time to gather gold. Aye, time for Berwick to fall, if possible, so that this Bull is outdated. All this, and more. We must buy time. This device is to buy it.”

Sinclair intervened.

“If they agree to nuncios, then let us teach these a lesson. To pass on to their principals. If they travel north from Durham they must pass through Northumberland. You, Sire, have resumed the Lordship of Tynedale, and much of Northumberland now pays you fealty. Yet men still consider it to be in England. Some of Your Grace’s Northumbrian lieges could surely be prevailed upon to waylay these nuncios before they reach Scotland.

To somewhat mishandle them, rob them even-delay them, certainly. In England. So that the blame lies at England’s door, not ours! That might help the cardinals to love the English less!”

Bruce actually slapped the table.

“There’s my Bishop!” he exclaimed.

“Better, Sire,” Abbot Bernard added.

“They could be relieved of their letters to you. These opened privily, the seals unbroken.

Scanned and copied. Then handed back, but their contents sent to Your Grace hot-foot. So you would know before the nuncios arrived what their terms were. And be prepared to receive them aptly.”

Grinning for the first time in months, Bruce looked at the Primate.

That man inclined his grizzled head-as much perhaps in satisfaction at his friend’s improved spirits as at the programme proposed.

“It be hoves us, since the realm’s safety is at stake, to play with

such cards as we hold,” he acceded.

“Spoken like a churchman!” the Earl of Dunbar and March declared, with sarcasm.

“Even churchmen may have their small diversions, my lord. So long as they do not cheat thereat!”

The Earl frowned.

“Save me from ever having to differ from the Lords Spiritual!”

Walter the High Steward said fervently-and none of the Lords Temporal present thought to say otherwise.

It was a full six weeks later, therefore, before two indignant and

unhappy clerics, in shabby, borrowed habits and high dudgeon, presented

themselves at Dunfermline and the Court of the King of Scots-the

Bishop of Corbeil and Monseigneur d’Aumery. They were civilly

received-but not by the King-and kept kicking their heels for some

considerable time before an audience could be arranged. Meantime,

however, they were lent rich clothing, and given much sympathy over

their dire experiences and shameful treatment at the hands of the North

Country English. It seemed that when, with a splendid retinue, the

nuncios were halfway through Northumberland, en route for Berwick, they

had been rudely and savagely set upon by lawless hordes, at Rushyford,

and despite their protestations and claims to sanctity, had been

seized, insulted, stripped of their fine raiment, and carried off

prisoner to the rude castle of one of these ruffians, by name Gilbert