Nigel Tranter - The Price of the King's Peace

And how, from then, we have had 113 kings …”

“Save us-have we indeed? So many?”

De Linton coughed.

“So the chroniclers and seannachies have it, Sire. And who am I to disprove it? Since it is our concern to convince His Holiness of the ancient establishment and continuing independence of our realm. Do you wish this altered?”

“No, no. By no means. The more the better. Save that most of them must have been heathens!”

“Aye, Sire-I have considered that. I put it thus:

“… 113 of their own royal stock, no stranger intervening, have

reigned, whose nobility and merits, if they were not clear otherwise,

yet shine out plainly enough from this that the Kings of Kings even our

Lord Jesus Christ, after his passion and resurrection, called them,

though situated at the uttermost parts of the earth, almost the first

to His most holy faith, nor would have them confirmed in this faith by

any one less than His first Apostle, although in rank second or

third”

The Abbot paused.

“I walk warily herefor, of course, His Holiness occupies the throne of St. Peter …”

“Very wise, Bernard,” Lamberton nodded, straight-faced.

“Precedence is most important!”

“Yes, my lord. So I say:

“… to wit, Andrew the most meek brother of St. Peter, whom He would

have always preside over them as their Patron. Moreover the most holy

fathers, your predecessors, considering these things with anxious mind,

endowed the said kingdom and people, with many favours and very many

privileges. So that our nation, under their protection, has hitherto

continued free and peaceful, until that prince, the mighty King of the English, Edward the father of him. who now is, under the semblance of a friend and ally, in most unfriendly wise harassed our kingdom, then without a head, and unaccustomed to wars and attacks…”

“I would put in there that we were guiltless of offence towards

Edward,” the Primate said.

“That it be clear that the English invasion was wholly one of

aggression by Edward.”

“To be sure. So:

“The injuries, slaughters, and deeds of violence, plunderings, burnings, imprisonments of prelates, firing of monasteries, spoliations and murders of men of religion …”

Abbot Bernard looked apologetic.

“You understand, Sire, why I stress that Christ’s Church suffered so greatly? It must be made clear to His Holiness that the English are the enemies of the Church, not its friends.”

“The point does not escape me, friend. But-I think that we might leave all this of history to yourself. Let us on to the point of today.”

“I come to that now, Sire. To where Your Grace comes into it. I say:

“From these evils innumerable, by the help of Him who, after wounding, heals and restores to health, we were freed by our most gallant Prince, King and Lord, our Lord Robert who, to rescue his people and heritage from the hands of their enemies, like another Maccabaeus or Joshua, endured toil and weariness, hunger and danger, with cheerful mind…”

“I swear we could dispense with that…!”

“No, Robert,” Elizabeth declared.

“That must go in. It is no more than the truth. My Maccabaeus! My Joshua!”

“M’mmm. Proceed then, my friend.”

“Him also the Divine Providence and, according to our laws and customs which we will maintain even to the death, the succession of right and the due consent and assent of us all, have made our Prince and King; to whom, we, for the defence of our liberty, art bound, and are determined in all things to adhere. But, if he well to desist from what he has begun …”

The Ghantellor’s voice tailed away, as he swallowed, and looked up apprehensively.

“Well, man? Go on. What will you do if I desist in my duty? I told you to make it clear that the freedom of the realm is above all things precious. Be not mealy-mouthed in this.”

“Aye, Sire. But it sounds ill, coming from your most leal servant. I put it so:

“If he were to desist from what he has begun, wishing to subject us or our kingdom to the King of England or the English, we would immediately endeavour to expel him as our enemy, and the subverter of his own rights and ours. And make another our king who should be able to defend us.”

Appalled, de Linton looked at his liege lord.

“Bravo! Well said, my lord Abbot! This is simplest truth. Look not so like a dog expecting a whipping, man! If this letter is to mean anything, it must declare without a doubt that the Scots make their own masters, and that freedom is all.”

“That is what I say next, Sire:

“For, so long as a hundred of us remain alive, we never will in any degree be subject to the dominion of the English. Since it is not for glory, riches or honours we fight, but for liberty alone, which no good man loses but with his life.”

There was a brief silence in that lamp-lit room, as the words burned themselves into their consciousness. Then Bruce actually rose from his seat, and put his hand on de Linton’s shoulder.

“I thank you, Bernard, for those words,” he said, his voice thick.

“No man spoke nobler, or truer. Here indeed is the message which we declare. Not only to this Pope, but to all Christendom, to all men everywhere. I thank you. And I thank God that I chose you to write this letter!”

“Amen,” Lamberton added, simply.

Quite overcome, the younger man shook his head.

“Abbot Bernard,” Elizabeth said gently.

“You make me wish that I was born a Scot, I vow!”

Bruce cleared his throat.

“After that, my friend, the rest cannot but suffer descent, decreasement. Read no more. But tell us the sense of what remains.”

“There is still much, Sire. Perhaps too much. For I am wordy, I

fear.

But we have to make our needs and requests clear. I therefore beseech

His Holiness, who must be no respecter of persons, to admonish and exhort the King of England to desire no more than his own, and to leave us in peace. I say that it derogates from His Holiness himself if any part of the Church suffers eclipse or scandal -as does this part, in Scotland, through English avarice and lust for power. And I urge, Sire, that he, His Holiness, rather stir up the Princes of Christendom to better warfare than attacking their weaker Christian brethren, by leading a great crusade against the heathen, for the succour of the Holy Land-to which, if the English will leave us in peace, we will adhere with our whole strength. And the King of England also be able to aid the better, for not warring with us!”

“Splendid! Excellent!” Bruce cried.

“Here is shrewd work, indeed. Is that not sharp steel, William? Your Pope can scarce deny that-since he has declared such crusade to be his aim and ambition. Master Bernard has him there!”

“It is a notable thrust, yes. I say I served Your Grace well when I recommended this young man to be your secretary. Is this your closing note, Bernard?”

“Not quite, my lord Bishop. I … I have made very bold in this letter, already. Regarding His Grace. But this was on his own royal command. I make very bold again. If your lordship thinks too bold, I will score it through. But … in the name of this people and nation I have seen fit to rebuke His Holiness. Is this apostasy?”

“I shall tell you, friend, when I hear it. But, to my mind, Hit

Holiness could perhaps do with some rebuke! What say you?”

“I finish by declaring that… where is it? Here it is:

“that if trusting too much the reports of the English, Your Holiness do not give to-this implicit belief, and abstain from favouring them, to our confusion, then the loss of life, the ruin of souls, and other evils that will follow, will we believe be laid to your charge by the Most High.”