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 Lintons 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.
He looked up.
Is it… is it too much?
The King slapped the table-top, making the heap of papers jump.
By God, it is not! Apostasy, or what you name it, it may be.
But it is true, and just, and requires to be said. You are a bold
priest, Bernard de Linton -but praise the saints for it! Let it
stand.
Lamberton nodded.
Never before have I heard a cleric, even Abbot of Arbroath, charge the Supreme Pontiff with the ruin of souls! he observed.
But it is not before time for Pope John, I think. I almost wish that I was signing this declaration after all!
I say that it makes a most, splendid end to a splendid letter, the Queen added.
You are a priest after a de Burghs heart!
The King pushed the papers away.
Better than anything I could have asked for, he said.
But, now-how best to gain the necessary superscriptions and seals? After tomorrows Convention, my lord Chancellor, I will have you to read aloud this letter to the assembled company. I will declare that its every word meets with my approval. And you, my lord Primate-will you say likewise?
Then, I will ask if any present makes objection to any of it. Not this word or that, or we should spend the day at it. But with its sense and purpose. I cannot believe that any will speak contrary. Then I shall ask that all who will put their names to it, affix their seals. It will take time, so many. But your clerks will see to that. No clergy, but all earls, lords, barons and freeholders, in their due order.
All, Sire? Surely not all? de Linton protested.
You would not wish certain names on this letter, I think? Those of traitors. Men who have worked against you …
There you are wrong, my friend. This is a letter from the realm of Scotland. The whole realm. Therefore all of any degree must subscribe to it, friends or un friends If it is headed, as it should be, by Duncan Mac Duff Earl of life, premier earl and noble of this land, whom all know is no supporter of mine, so much the more effective a letter it is. Is it not so?
Indeed it is, the Bishop agreed.
I have no doubt but that His Holiness at Avignon knows well enough who are Your Graces un friends Yet, I think, the said un friends will not refuse their names tomorrow! That would be next to proclaiming their continuing treason and treachery. Moreover, not only will this test their new-found loyalty, but it will serve as a chain to bind them to Your Grace hereafter. Their seals and superscriptions on this great document. Do you not see it?
Ah, yes. Yes-you old fox! This I had not thought on. But it is so. Only-this letter will go to Avignon. To the Pope. So I will not hold those seals and superscriptions.
Then there must be two copies. Sire. One to be sent, and one to hold in your Chancery. Both subscribed and sealed. Bernard-you must needs have your clerks work on it. Two copies. All night, if need be. For tomorrows meeting. Busy pens, indeed-but it must be.
De Linton nodded.
Myself, I shall check each word, my lord. The Queen smiled.
Poor Abbot Bernard! she said.
I fear that he will get but little sleep this night.
The Chancellor has spent harder nights than this will be, in my
service, Bruce said.
Till tomorrow, then, my good friends.
Strangely, it was not the subscribing and sealing of the famous Declaration of Arbroath which went partly agley that next day, the 6th of April, but the superficially unimportant preliminary. Bruce had conceived rightly that a summons to show title to all lands held, would be an excellent, almost foolproof means of ensuring a full attendance at his meeting, since landholding was the vital concern of all; but he had not foreseen the reaction to its inquisition and assize on land-titles. In the great refectory of Arbroath Abbey, when de Linton, as Chancellor, made formal announcement in the Kings name that all who held land of the Crown in this realm of Scotland should now show by what right and title they held it, for the good will and better administration of the kingdom, he was answered by a great shout, and the shrill scream of steel. All over the hall swords were whipped out and held high, while their owners cried aloud that it was by these, their swords, that they held their lands-good and sufficient title.