Nigel Tranter - The Price of the King's Peace

“Noble is scarce the word I would use, Robert my liege,” Lamberton said, shaking his grey head.

“What I did was expedient, lacking in scruple, cynical, maybe. But not noble.”

“Yet you perhaps jeopardised your own soul to do it. For the nation.

That is, if you believe what you profess.”

“Aye-and there’s the rub! Do I, William Lamberton, believe what I profess? Sometimes, I confess to you, my friends, I do wonder! I fear that I have become but a wavering leader of this flock.”

“Wavering? After today? I would I had more such waverers!”

“Wavering in what I believe, and should teach others, Robert Which is no state for a bishop to be in. The older I grow, I find, the less of accepted doctrine I truly respect. Save for the faith of Christ crucified. And the all-embracing love of God.”

“Is that not enough?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

“For you, perhaps. For most. But-for me? For the Primate?

The foremost representative of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church, in this land? The fount of doctrine, the source of dogma? I would not have our nuncio, or indeed any priest anywhere, to hear me say it!”

“Perhaps you do not altogether accept the doctrine of a papal

infallibility!” Bruce observed gravely.

“Even if the said Pope is truly Pope.”

The other looked into the fire, as gravely.

“Would my liege lord have me to burn as an heretic? To deny so essential, so vital, a doctrine!”

“Deny nothing, then. But… I think you do not indeed consider that you have placed your immortal soul in jeopardy, by this day’s work?”

“My soul, I fear, has been in jeopardy all my days! For my many sins. But such faith as I cling to assures me that Christ’s sacrifice and God’s infinity mercy are sufficient to save it, nevertheless.”

Lamberton raised his head.

“But, see you-this of the Pope’s position.

I but prevaricated, quibbled, there at Dundee. God forgive me. This

Pope is truly Pope-of that there is no real doubt. His residence at

Avignon is by his own choice, not by force majeure. Even though the

Curia does not like it. And he is said now to be much less hot on his

doctrine of resurrected bliss. Moreover, such would not invalidate his

appointment, whatever Philip de Valois may say. No-I but used

subterfuge, used these things to gain time, to soothe anxieties, to

enable the rule and charge of the Church in this land to continue. To

have accepted the papal ban would have meant the breakdown, not only of

the Church, but of all Christ’s work, in Scotland. Therefore I did

what I did. But there is no substance in my doubts as to His

Holiness’s authority -as many of the clergy at least must know. And the College of Cardinals will endorse Pope John’s anathema-nothing is more sure. Unless we can change their minds. And his. We have but gained a breathing space.”

“A costly breathing space for you, William-which we must use to good advantage. This of the letter-de Linton’s letter. The declaration, from all the realm. You think well of it?”

“Well, indeed-very well. So be it that it says the right things.

And is signed by the right people.”

“The right people? Not all the people? That is, the people who have any rule and authority in the realm?”

“That as a principle, yes. But in fact we must be careful. To give His Holiness no excuse to ignore it. By including signatures which he must reject.”

“Must reject?”

“Must, yes. He may have no relations with an excommunicate.

Therefore excommunicate’s signature on such letter could be held to invalidate it, I fear. He has, in a fashion, excommunicated the entire nation. But that is different, a mere form. Those who have been excommunicated by name-these should not sign. Your royal self. Myself. The Bishops of Moray and Dunkeld and Aberdeen.

These, I fear, he could reject as offensive, in the present

circumstance.

And therefore claim that he could not read or accept the letter.”

“I had never thought to sign it,” Bruce said.

“Since it is from my subjects, not myself. But you? If you and the other senior bishops do not sign, it could be claimed that there was division amongst the clergy. That the most important might not be in favour of what was written.”

“True. I think, therefore, that no clergy should sign. Let it be a letter from the temporality of Scotland. It might have the more force.

Seem less of a disobedience to the Church’s supreme Pontiff. See you

the clergy have already sent a manifesto to the Vatican,on the subject of Your Grace’s right to the crown. From Dundee.

In 1309. Asserting Scots independence. This new declaration would come better from the laity. It could be couched in stronger terms than would be seemly for the clergy to use towards their Pontiff.”

“That is true …”

Abbot Bernard came back with a great sheaf of paper.

“I fear that there is overmuch writing here, Your Graces,” he apologised “A great plethora of words. But there is so much to be said. So many matters to cover. I have written and scored and written again. Many times. I cannot make it shorter, with all said. Your Grace, and my lord Bishop, may do better than my poor efforts…”

He spread his papers out on the table, and lit a second lamp.

“Here is the start:

“To the most Holy Father in Christ our Lord, the Lord John, by Divine Providence, of the Holy Roman and Catholic Church Supreme Pontiff, his humble and devoted sons and servants, the earls, bishops, barons, abbots, priors, priests, freeholders and whole community of the Kingdom of Scotland, send all manner of filial reverence with devout kisses of your blessed feet…”

“Not servants, my friends-not servants,” Bruce intervened.

“Sons, perhaps. Sons in God. But I will not have my good Scots subjects servants to any. Not even to myself! And is it necessary to kiss the man’s feet? If the Lord Christ Himself was content to wash others’ feet, I do not see why we should kiss the Pope’s.”

“In letters to the Pontiff it is the customary style,” Lamberton

said.

“No doubt it is fulsome, unsuitable. But this he expects. And it

costs us little-since the signatories will never have to do it!”

And, as the King shrugged acceptance, “But this of bishops and priests, my good Bernard. His Grace and I have come to decision that this letter should not seem to come from the clergy at all. Only the temporality. To avoid sundry pitfalls. It will lose nothing thereby, and be the less rebellious towards His Holiness. And after your devoted sons, I would leave space for the names of the signatories.

Rather than have all signed and sealed at the end only. It must needs be a long letter, as you say. Therefore, to ensure that His Holiness reads it, he should know from the start the quality of the signatories.”

“As you will, my lord …”

The Queen spoke.

“But, my friends-do you forget? If it is not the priests and clergy who sign, then most of the barons and lairds will not be able to sign, at all! Since they cannot write. Only make marks and append their seals.”

Bruce smiled.

“Trust a woman to see the thing clearly!” he commended.

“It is true. In the main it will not be signatures we send.

But names, written by clerks. With their seals. The more reason, then, to have the names at the start. But, proceed, my lord Chancellor.”

“Yes.

I then recite something of the history of our race, as recounted by the books and chronicles of ancient writers. How our nation came out of Scythia and through the Mediterranean Sea, by Spain, to Ireland. And thence 1,200 years after the outgoing of the people of Israel, acquired for themselves the land of the Picts and Britons in Dalriada, naming it Scotland, from their onetime princess.