The death of Duncan II

Duncan II died on the 12th of November, 1094, at the Battle of Monthechin.

Duncan was a bit of a doughnut. He was the first King of Scots to have been seriously influenced by the English, in the sense that he was probably more Norman-English than Scottish at the time he ascended to the throne. Of course, there had always been English interference in the affairs of Scotland, but that was usually invasion and intended conquest or some form of military intervention. Contrary to that sort of thing, the English influence over Duncan II, which effectively ushered in the beginning of the age of Norman-Scots, was peaceable. It stemmed from the fact that Duncan spent a large part of his life at the court of the Crimson King, William Rufus. And that had transpired, because Duncan’s father, Malcolm Canmore, Malcolm III, had to give up his son as a hostage for his good behavior as per the Treaty of Abernethy.

Duncan, was born around 1060 and was sent to England in 1072, when he would have been no more than twelve. Having been sent south at an impressionable age, Duncan then spent fifteen years in England, before he was released from his hostage status by the new King, William II, that being William Rufus, in 1087. However, he remained in England, soaking up the Norman culture, becoming a member of William’s court and being knighted by the English King. Back in Scotland, Malcolm III had produced quite a crop of sons and he probably didn’t miss his eldest so much as he was one of three sons by his first wife, whom he’d replaced with the (to be) ‘sainted’ Margaret when Ingebjørg died. Funnily enough, several of the six ‘Margaretsons’ possibly ended up in England, one of them being for sure David, who as David I, was responsible for further advancing the Norman influence in Scotland – for better or worse.

In 1092, relations between William Rufus and Malcolm Canmore began to break down, and whether or not that was due to William’s expansionist movements in Cumbria or to a dispute over Malcolm’s estates in England, the end result was war. As the ‘Anglo-Saxon Chronicle reports, “Malcolm… gathered his army, and came harrowing into England with more hostility than behoved him”. Malcolm was accompanied by Edward, his heir-designate and the eldest of the ‘Margaretsons’, and by Edgar, the fourth of that litter. On his way back north, Malcolm was ambushed by Robert de Mowbray, the Earl of Northumbria, in an engagement that became known as the Battle of Alnwick, on the 13th of November, 1093. Malcolm was killed by Arkil Morel, the Steward of Bamburgh Castle, and Malcolm’s son Edward was mortally wounded in the same fight. Malcolm’s attack on England may have endangered Duncan’s life, but as he was no longer a hostage and indeed a pal of Rufus, that was never likely.

The question of who was to succeed Malcolm then arose. If Malcolm had been behind the Norman principle of primogeniture, his heir would have been Duncan, his eldest son. But the Scottish system owed more to the ancient Gaelic practice of tanistry and that was why Edward’s had been quite legitimately designated as Malcolm’s successor. With Edward having died, the process of tanistry meant the Crown was up for grabs and that led to Malcolm’s younger brother, Domnall Bán, Donald the White, being proclaimed Donald III, with support from Edmund, the second ‘Margaretson’. Donald was probably living in Scotland at the time, rather than having remained in exile at the court of Thorfinn Sigurdsson, the Earl of Orkney, and it is unfair to suggest that he usurped the Throne. He had as good a claim as his nephew Duncan. Also at that time, David the ‘Margaretson’ joined his half brother Duncan in England, but it is unclear if, for example, Edgar and Alexander did. Ethelred surely didn’t as he had become the Abbot of Dunkeld.

Now it was that Duncan, encouraged by his Norman cronies and his English education to a belief in primogeniture, gained the ambition to secure the Scottish Crown. With that purpose in mind, Duncan returned to Scotland, in the Spring of 1094, at the head of an Anglo-Norman army. However, there is no evidence that he was accompanied by the elder of his half brothers or whether any of them joined him when he arrived in Scotland. Duncan’s army was victorious as he easily defeated his uncle, Donald Bán, and his half brother, Edmund. By the end of May of 1094, Duncan had placed himself on the Throne as Duncan II. Duncan had received the tacit support of William II for the Scottish Crown, but as William had planned a campaign in Normandy, the Anglo-Norman army was withdrawn in the summer, leaving Duncan very exposed. Duncan had very little support north of the Forth and he was also seen as a puppet of William Rufus. Of course, his ‘englishness’ didn’t commend him to the Gaels and Scots.

Ultimately, his reign didnae last long as he and many of his Norman supporters, those who had remained with him in Scotland, were killed at the Battle of Monthechin, near Kincardine, on the 12th of November, 1094. Alison Weir, in ‘Britain’s Royal Family: A Complete Genealogy’, published in 1999, states that Duncan was “killed in action”. However, many stories circulate about his having been murdered by Máel Petair, the Mormaer of the Mearns, who was loyal to Donald Bán. Interestingly, Máel Petair, who appears in numerous sources and whose name means ‘tonsured one of [Saint] Peter’, is the only known Mormaer of the Mearns. After the death of Duncan II, Donald Bán and Edmund resumed their joint reign, but not for long as the merry-go-round continued to spin. Both were deposed in 1097, by Edgar, another ‘Margaretson’, who had his Uncle Donald blinded and imprisoned, and his brother Edmund sent to a monastery. Poor Donald died a broken man in prison at Rescobis, in Forfarshire, in 1099. Duncan II was buried at Dunfermline Abbey.

The capture of Dumbarton Castle

John Stewart of Dundonald, the ‘Red Stewart’, captured Dumbarton Castle from the Earl of Lennox, on behalf of James I, on the 11th of November, 1424.

John Stewart of Dundonald was one of six Johns who were sons, in one way or another, of Robert II, King of Scots. Robert II wasn’t Scotland’s most effective King, but he was extremely good at one thing; procreation. Randy Robert II had at least twenty-one children at the last count so it’s not surprising that more than one of them got called John. How could he have remembered their names; particularly when they were fathered by several different women? Calling them John was an easy way out of having to keep coming up with new names. The eldest of the legitimate Johns was born in 1337, to Robert’s first wife, Elizabeth Mure. That John Stewart, who was the Earl of Carrick, became King Robert III of Scotland and he took the name of Robert, because he felt that Kings with the name of John had not had very good luck. The eldest of all the Johns was known as the ‘Black Stewart’ and he was born illegitimately in 1336 to Mora Leitch. The next in line was born to an unknown mistress in 1340 and he was known as the ‘Red Stewart’. Another John was brought into the world in 1342 and his mother was Marion Carney. The last two Johns were born to an unknown mother or mothers; one in Cardney, in 1344 and another, who became Sir John Stewart, at some unknown time, nine months after Robert had enticed someone into his bed chamber.

Robert II came to the Throne somewhat fortuitously after the death of David II on the 22nd of February, 1371. Robert was the seventh High Steward of Scotland and the son of the sixth, Walter, a hero of Bannockburn, who had married Princess Marjory, the daughter of Robert I, Robert the Bruce as was. In 1318, Robert the Steward had been declared heir presumptive to the Throne and when David II died with no issue, Robert stepped up to the Throne at the age of fifty-five. By all accounts, by that time, he had stopped procreating as the last child we have a date for was Walter Stewart, who was born in 1368 and became the Earl of Atholl. Robert II was the first Stewart to ascend the Throne of Scotland and his direct male line ended with James V. It is from Robert II that the Royal House of Stuart and the present dynasty of Great Britain are descended.

The John Stewart, who was known as the ‘Black Stewart’, because of his dark complexion, was granted the lands of Bute, Arran and Cumbrae by his father and, about 1385, he was also granted the hereditary office of Sheriff of Bute. The grant of lands was confirmed by a charter of his half brother John, aka Robert III, in 1400, and it is from this Sir John that the Stuarts of Bute are descended. Sir John Stewart of Dundonald, on the other hand, was known as the ‘Red Stewart’. We don’t know why. Presumably, because he had a ruddy complexion or he had red hair. Some records suggest that the ‘Red Stewart’ was made Constable of Rothesay Castle, but that surely fell to his ‘Black’ brother along with the Sheriffdom of Bute, for the obvious reasons, but mibbies nae. Sir John ‘the Red’ was also Lord of Burley.

In April of 1424, the grandson of Robert II, who had been crowned James I, returned to Scotland from captivity in England. In his absence and in his name and in succession, both his uncle Robert and his cousin Murdoch had ruled Scotland as Regent with the title of Duke of Albany. James I set about clearing out all the Nobles who he felt were a threat to his reign and he did so quite ruthlessly. On the 13th of May, he caused the arrest and imprisonment of several prominent Nobles, including Walter Stewart, the eldest son of the Duke of Albany, and ordered the capture of the Stewart Earl of Lennox, father-in-law of Albany. The task of apprehending Lennox was given to the ‘Red Stewart’, Sir John Stewart of Dundonald, which he duly achieved on the 11th of November, 1424, when he captured Dumbarton Castle and promptly seized and imprisoned Lennox.

The following spring, on the ninth day of a Parliament, which began at Perth on the 12th of March, James I arrested a total of thirty further Barons and Knights. Those included Murdoch, the Duke of Albany, his son, Sir Alexander Stewart, the Earls of Douglas, March and Angus, and David Stewart, the Earl of Strathern, yet another son of Robert II, but not called John. James also imprisoned Murdoch’s wife Isobell in Tantallon Castle. These proceedings were specifically directed against the Duke of Albany and his family, and many of the others were released after a very short imprisonment. Murdoch’s fate was sealed in a Parliament, which assembled at Stirling in May. A court was held in Stirling Castle on, the 26th of May, 1425, where Walter Stewart was tried before the King and a jury of twenty one barons, found guilty, condemned, and immediately beheaded. The following day, Murdoch, his son Alexander and the aged Earl of Lennox were tried, convicted, and sentenced to death, with all their lands and titles forfeited. They were executed on Heading Hill and buried in the Church of the Black Friars. However, their severed heads weren’t buried as those were taken to Tantallon Castle and cast into the dungeon beside Murdoch’s wife with the express purpose of driving her insane.

Sir John Stewart of Dundonald, the ‘Red Stewart’, was then in possession of Dumbarton Castle, but he had a vengeful, surviving son of Murdoch to contend with at the last. That son is variously described as James ‘the Gross’ or James ‘the Fat’ or, more correctly, Sir James Mhor Stewart. When Sir James Mhor heard that his father, brothers, and grandfather had been imprisoned and executed by James I, he raised a small force and came down out of the Highlands to descend upon Dumbarton. He attacked Dumbarton Castle and took his vengeance by burning it to the ground, and with it, its Governor, Sir John ‘the Red Stewart’ of Dundonald, his own great-uncle and an uncle of the King.

After the sacking of Dumbarton and the judicial murder of ‘the Red’ Sir John Stewart, James Mhor fled to England, where he remained in exile until 1429, before going to Ireland. There, he called himself King of Scots and began to mass an army with the intention of invading the west coast of Scotland. Unfortunately for him, he died in 1451, before his English allies and the MacDonald Lord of the Isles could muster enough forces to make a realistic attempt on the Scots throne.

David Livingstone, missionary man

The journalist, Henry Morton Stanley, found David Livingstone, the ‘missing’ Scottish missionary, at Ujiji in Tanganyika, on the 10th of November, 1871.

David Livingstone was a pioneering missionary man with the London Missionary Society and an explorer in Africa. He was not the only Scot to find renown in exploring Africa as his name stands alongside others such as Mungo Park, Hugh Claperton, William Balfour Baikie, James Bruce, James Augustus Grant and Major Alexander Gordon Laing in the hall of fame. However, Livingstone was one of the most popular and celebrated national heroes of late 19th Century Victorian Britain. His fame as an explorer helped drive the obsession with discovering the sources of two of African's great trading arteries, the Niger and the Nile. That was during the classic period of colonial penetration of the African continent known as the ‘scramble for Africa’. European explorers made a massive contribution to the general scientific and geographical knowledge and understanding of the climate and resources of Africa. Primarily, however, they went in search of fame or celebrity or to convert the natives to Christianity or, in terms of their sponsors’ intentions, to contribute towards an imperial strategy of controlling the ‘Dark Continent’.

As a missionary, Livingstone made a poor show. The only Christian convert of his career was Chief Sechele of the Kwena. No doubt that ‘failure’ led to Livingstone’s belief that he had a spiritual calling for exploration rather than missionary work. Livingstone could see the point of view of those who did not want to be converted as evidenced by an encounter with Chief Sechele’s uncle. The uncle said of Livingstone, “We like you as well as if you had been born among us… but we wish you to give up that everlasting preaching and praying. You see we never get rain, while those tribes who never pray as we do obtain abundance.” Revealingly, Livingstone recorded that as a fact, stating, “”We often saw it raining on the hills ten miles off, while it would not look at us ‘even with one eye’.” Understandably then, in 1857, he resigned from the London Missionary Society, after it demanded that he do more evangelising and less exploring. After that, with the help of the President of the Royal Geographical Society, Livingstone was appointed as Her Majesty's Consul for the East Coast of Africa. It was as an explorer that Livingstone found lasting fame.

David Livingstone was the first European, although not the first African, to make a transcontinental journey across Africa, which he did from Quelimane, near the mouth of the Zambezi, to Luanda on the Atlantic Coast.  He was the first European to see the ‘Mosi-oa-Tunya’ (‘the smoke that thunders’) waterfall, which he renamed Victoria Falls. Livingstone great task was the Zambezi and he believed the key to achieving the goals illustrated by his motto, ‘Christianity, Commerce and Civilisation’, was the navigation of that river, which he saw as a commercial highway into the interior. Unfortunately, it turned out to be completely impassable to boats past the Cabora Bassa rapids. However, his expedition became the first to reach Lake Malawi and he went on to become the first European to see Lake Bangweulu and Lake Ngami. Gruesomely, his attempts to navigate the Ruvuma River failed, because of the continual fouling of the paddle wheels on his boat by bodies thrown in the river by slave traders. It was on that journey that he uttered his most famous quote, “I am prepared to go anywhere, provided it be forward.” After the failure of the Zambezi expedition, Livingstone returned to Africa in search of the source of the Nile. He found the Lualaba River and decided it was the ‘real’ Nile, but it wasn’t as it flows into the Upper Congo Lake. In addition to his discoveries and ‘firsts’, he provided details of Lake Tanganyika and Lake Mweru, and charted the course of many rivers, especially the upper Zambezi, and his observations enabled large, previously blank, regions to be mapped.

During his efforts to find the Nile, Livingstone completely lost contact with the outside world for six years and only one of his forty-four dispatches made it to Zanzibar, which is why he needed to be ‘found’. Livingstone suffered from pneumonia, came down with cholera, had tropical ulcers on his feet, had his supplies stolen and had to rely on slave traders for sustenance. Following all of those trials and tribulations and at the end of the wet season in 1871, he returned to Ujiji, where he arrived on the 23rd of October. And that was where he was found by Henry Morton Stanley (aka John Rowlands) just a couple of weeks later, on the 10th of November, 1871. Stanley greeted him with the now famous, but probably fabricated words, “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”

David Livingstone was born at Blantyre in Lanarkshire, in March 1813. At the age of ten, he was sent to the cotton factory of H. Monteith & Co as a ‘piecer’ and, with his first wages, be purchased Ruddiman's ‘Rudiments of Latin’. For some years, he studied at an evening school and at home until late at night, even though he had to be at the factory at six o'clock in the morning. By the time he was nineteen he had become a cotton spinner and his wages were enough to support him whilst he studied Medicine, Greek and Divinity at Glasgow. In September, 1838, he went to the London Missionary Society and passed its preliminary examination following which, he devoted himself to medical and scientific study. He was prevented from going to China by the opium war and instead determined to go to South Africa. He was admitted a licentiate of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons in Glasgow University at the beginning of November, 1840 and, later in the month, he was ordained a missionary in Albion Chapel, London. In December of that year, he embarked in the ‘George’ for Simon’s Bay, which was where, on the 15th March, 1841, David Livingstone first set foot upon the continent upon which he was to leave such a mark. And so began an adventure of discovery and achievement, the like of which had few parallels in the history of human endeavour.

David Livingstone appears to have died of malaria and internal bleeding caused by dysentery, in the village of Ilala in Zambia, on the 1st of May, 1873. However, his attendants noted the date as the 4th of May, which they carved on a tree. Livingstone's heart was buried under that Mvula tree, near the spot where he died, and his body was eventually returned to Britain, where his remains were interred at Westminster Abbey.

Dorothy, Lady Dunnett, OBE

Dorothy, Lady Dunnett, OBE, author, cult Scottish novelist, portrait painter and sculptress, died on the 9th of November, 2001.

Dorothy Dunnett’s only rival as 20th Century Scotland’s pre-eminent author of historical fiction, related to or anchored in and about Scotland, is Nigel Tranter. It is probably also fair to say that Dorothy’s writing is of a consistently higher quality than our man Nigel’s is. That should be ‘was’ in both cases as sadly, both authors are now deceased and are no longer writing. However, their novels are still available to be read, whether you buy them from Amazon, download them onto your Kindle or Nook, or borrow them from the library – now there’s a novelty. If you are interested in Scottish history and aren’t fond of history books, you should invest some time in searching out these authors. Lady Dunnett’s books are not ‘bodice-rippers’ so don’t be put off by some of the cover art.

Dorothy Dunnett is best known for two series of historical fiction, namely ‘The Lymond Chronicles’ and ‘The House of Niccolo’. These superb series are set in the 15th and 16th Centuries, and, whilst anchored in Scotland, the characters and plots range throughout the Europe of the Late Middle Ages. You can say that Dunnett had stamina as her tales of Francis Crawford of Lymond and Nicholas de Fleury are chronicled, respectively, through six and eight large volumes. Nigel Tranter only managed several trilogies, albeit his output is more exclusively Scottish and, in spanning the Centuries from the 6th to the 18th, it could be said he achieved a sort of continuum. Lady Dunnett is also famous for causing a stir with her story of Earl Thorfinn of Orkney, which is set in the 11th Century. She sparked a controversy with that novel, because she believed that Thorfinn and Macbeth were one and the same man. Whether or not that was true, her story knocks spots of the eponymous tragedy of Will Shakespeare.

Dunnett’s tale of ‘Thorfinn Macbeth’ came about when she rejected her publisher’s suggestion that she write about Bonnie Prince Charlie or Mary, Queen of Scots. Instead, she proposed to write of Macbeth and signed up to produce a single volume work, to be completed inside two years at the most. Things didn’t work out quite as planned, but having established a reputation for meticulous research already, that shouldn’t have been so surprising. The title ‘King Hereafter’ took ten years to research and when the saga was published in 1982, it “startled and impressed academic historians” and “set historians aquiver”. During her research, she studied every available book related to Macbeth; around seven hundred in total. And fascinatingly, during her life, she acquired a reference library of over ten thousand books, most of which were donated to Edinburgh University after her death, still festooned with annotations, bookmarks and sticky notes.

Of course, Macbeth is hardly known to the general public, apart from his appearance in Shakespeare's play. But Dunnett’s ideas about Macbeth began to take shape as she read, with the figure of Earl Thorfinn ‘the Mighty’, Jarl of Orkney, always featuring prominently. The theory that she developed was that Thorfinn and Macbeth were one and the same, despite the common belief amongst historians that they were foster brothers. Eventually, faced with proving the theory or publishing the book, she had to choose the latter. The outcome then, is that the truth remains a mystery, for Dunnett’s thesis generated at least sufficient doubt for her theory to be accepted as a plausible alternative to the accepted version of history. Lady Dunnett considered her saga of Thorfinn Macbeth as her masterpiece and it is indeed regarded by many as her finest work. She wove her tale around the coincidence of dates and common activities surrounding Thorfinn ‘Raven Feeder’ and Macbeth. The story also revolves around the consolidation and extension of the Kingdoms of the Northern Isles, Caithness, and Alba into the beginnings of a recognisable Scotland, but it is Thorfinn who becomes the King who became known as Macbeth.

Dorothy Halliday was born in Dunfermline on the 25th of August, 1923, but she grew up in the Corstorphine area of Edinburgh. She was educated at the James Gillespie High School for Girls; the school where Muriel Spark, also a pupil, based ‘The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie’. Dorothy studied at the Edinburgh College of Art and the Glasgow School of Art, and later became a talented portrait painter, and exhibited at the Royal Scottish Academy. During the Second World War, she worked for the Civil Service as a Press Officer in Edinburgh and it wasn’t until she was thirty-eight that she took up writing, and only because she complained of having nothing of interest to read. Her husband, bless him, told her to write something herself and the rest, as we can say for sure, was history.

Her first novel, the first of six books of the ‘Lymond Chronicles’, was snapped up by the legendary American editor Lois Dwight Cole, and published in 1961. After ‘Game of Kings’, Francis Crawford, a blond aristocrat “who quoted poetry in five languages and was nasty to everyone” was reintroduced to an increasingly enthusiastic readership in a further five volumes, spanning fifteen years of the 16th Century. Following her book about Macbeth, Dunnett produced the eight volumes of the ‘House of Niccolo’ featuring a dyer’s apprentice from Bruges, which became, in effect, a prequel to the ‘Lymond Chronicles’. She wrote a total of twenty-two books and, in 1992, she was awarded an OBE for her services to literature. Lady Dunnett was variously, a member of the Board of Trustees of the National Library of Scotland, a Trustee of the Scottish National War Memorial, a Director of the Edinburgh Book Festival, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts and a non-Executive Director of Scottish Television. Dorothy, Lady Dunnett, died in an Edinburgh hospice of cancer of the liver and pancreas on the 9th of November, 2001.

Dorothy Dunnett attracted a devoted following with her multi-volume sagas and her works have inspired conventions, which are attended by hundreds of people, fan magazines and several Internet forums. Anne Malcolm, in the the ‘New York Times Book Review’, said Dunnett’s books are “almost certainly destined to be counted among the classics of popular fiction”. Simon Hedges, an admirer, in ‘A-Eye-for-Books’ described Lady Dunnett as an “extraordinary writer” and went on to say that her books are “not easy reads” and they “require attention and thought” adding, “They are filled with false trails and really need to be read more than once”, which is a fair summary. They are not for the casual reader; but certainly the discerning reader.

John Duns Scotus

John Duns Scotus, scholar, theologian, philosopher, author and logician, died on the 8th of November, 1308.

Blessed John Duns Scotus was a highly influential man who rose to singular glory amongst the great medieval scholastics. To some extent, at least in Catholic circles, he remains glorified today as he was beatified by Pope John Paul II on the 20th of March, 1993. That’s the next best thing to sainthood for a Catholic, but they’re probably struggling to find a spare Mir’cle to pin on him. Scotus was successful as an intellectual in an age in which the sword ruled supreme and undoubtedly, for what it’s worth, he was one of the most important theologians and philosophers of the High Middle Ages. Gerolamo Cardano, the 16th Century Italian Renaissance mathematician and astrologer,  included John Duns Scotus on his famous list of ‘The Twelve Greatest Minds’ alongside Archimedes, Euclid, Apollonius, al-Khowârizmi, Archytas, Aristotle, al-Kindi, Richard Swineshead (‘the Calculator’), Galen of Pergamum, Jabir ibn Aflah (aka Heber of Spain) and Marcus Vitruvius Pollio.

Along with Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, and Ockham (of ‘Razor’ fame), John Duns Scotus was one of the four great philosophers of ‘High Scholasticism’. His work was encyclopedic in scope, yet he was known as ‘Doctor Subtilis’ (‘the Subtle Doctor’) by his contemporaries, because of the detailed, subtle distinctions and brilliantly complex nuances of his theological arguments. Rodulphus (aka Ralph Strode), the 14th Century philosopher, wrote of Scotus that; “There was nothing so recondite, nothing so abstruse that his keen mind could not fathom and clarify; nothing so knotty, that he like another Oedupus, could not unravel, nothing so fraught with difficulty or enveloped in darkness that his genius could not expound”.

It is said that Scotus was the founder and leader of the famous ‘Scotist School’ of Scholasticism in Philosophy and Theology, which, until the time of the French Revolution, dominated the Roman Catholic Faculties of Theology in nearly all the major Universities of Europe. However, that is presumptuous, mainly because that label only came into use at the end of the 15th or the beginning of the 16th Century, long after his death. The ‘Scotist School’ can only be said to have existed after his works were collected and published, and mandated as the teaching of the Franciscan order. However, that is to take nothing away from Scotus’ achievements, not least his influence. It was Scotus’ original views on the major philosophical problems, refuting certain Augustinian traditions and reinterpreting those of Aristotle, which led to the later notion of ‘Scotism’.

Catholics and Protestants alike have charged Scotus with sundry errors and heresies, but collectively, not one single proposition of his has been condemned by the Church. On the contrary, his doctrine of the ‘Immaculate Conception’ led to Catholics calling him ‘The Minstrel of the Word Incarnate’. Scotus’ ‘Opus Oxoniense’, one of his principle works and one of the most important documents in Roman Catholic theology, is the source of what Pope Pius IX, in his constitution ‘Ineffabilis Deus’ of the 8th of December, 1854, declared as the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception. Scotus is also known for his theology on the ‘Absolute Kingship’ of Jesus Christ and, apparently, his philosophic refutation of evolution, long before Robert Chambers and Darwin were born. Scotus also developed a complex argument for the existence of God, which, despite its flaws, is a philosophical tour de force and perhaps the most complicated of any ever written. Somebody once wrote of Scotus that “He described the Divine Nature as if he had seen God” and “the Celestial Spirits as if he had been an Angel”.

Interestingly, the word ‘dunce’ and the ‘dunce’s cap’ given to schoolchildren to wear as public humiliation for stupidity, are derived from the name of John Duns Scotus, but not in any derogatory sense directed at Scotus’ abilities. The usage arose, because the followers of Scotus, called ‘Duns’ or ‘Dunsmen’, obstinately refused to give up Scotus’ Scholastic theories in favour of the then emerging Humanist theories. The word ‘dunce’ began to be used to ridicule the Scholastics and it gradually acquired its modern usage to denote either someone who stubbornly refuses to learn anything new or fools in general.

John Duns Scotus was born John Duns (Ioannes Douns), sometime between the 23rd of December, 1265, and the 17th of March, 1266, near the North Lodge of Duns Castle in Berwickshire. The claim that he was born at Littledean, near Maxton in Roxburghshire, rather than the eponymous town of Duns, has since been shown to have been based on forged documents and the site of his birth is now marked by a cairn, erected by the Franciscans. The addition of ‘Scotus’ was essentially a nickname, used on the Continent to denote the fact that he was a Scot, whatever the Irish might say. John was named after St. John the Evangelist and, prior to leaving for Oxford in 1288, entered the Franciscan Order at Dumfries, as a Friar Minor, and studied briefly at Trinity Church on North Uist. As the history written by John Major (John Mair) in 1521 states, “When [Scotus] was no more than a boy, but had been already grounded in grammar, he was taken by two Scottish Minorite [i.e., Franciscan] Friars to Oxford, for at that time there existed no University in Scotland”.

Scotus continued to study at Merton College, Oxford until June, 1301, during which period, on the 17th of March, 1291, he was ordained to the Priesthood in the Franciscan Order at Saint Andrew’s Priory in Northampton. By 1300, Scotus was lecturing at Oxford, which he continued to do until he moved to teach at the University of Paris, in late 1302. In June 1303, he was expelled from France for taking sides with Pope Boniface VIII in a dispute with King Philip ‘the Fair’ of France. He returned to France in April, 1304, and later that year, on the 18th of November, he was appointed as the Franciscan Regent Master of Theology at Paris, by Gonsalvus of Spain. In early 1305, he was incepted as Master and later, in October, 1307, Scotus transferred to the Franciscan University at Cologne, where he was appointed Lector at the Franciscan Studium.

John Duns Scotus died in Cologne a little over a year later, on the 8th of November, 1308, having written his own epitaph; “Scotia me genuit. Anglia me suscepit. Gallia me docuit. Colonia me tenet” (Scotia brought me forth. England sustained me. France taught me. Cologne holds me), ending any doubt about his birthplace. He is buried in the ‘Minoritenkirche’, the Church of the Franciscans, close to Cologne Cathedral.

The Hexham Documents

The names of William Wallace and Andrew Moray appear in the 'Hexham documents', which were signed by the ‘Commanders of the army of the Kingdom of Scotland’ on the 7th of November, 1297.

Enough has been written about William Wallace to fill up an entire library, never mind the odd book. However, what is odd is that not over much has been written about his partner in resistance Andrew Moray. Whilst Wallace was wreaking havoc in southern Scotland, resisting the deprecations of the invading English, Moray was doing very much the same in the north. By the time of the Battle of Stirling Bridge, in which both men jointly commanded the victorious Scottish army, Moray had reclaimed all Scotland north of the Forth and recaptured most all of its strongholds, with the exception of Stirling Castle. Stirling Bridge was a great victory for the Scots, but it was to prove a personal tragedy for Moray, for he was wounded in the fighting.

According to Fordun in ‘The Scotichronicon’, Andrew de Moray was found after the Battle of Stirling Bridge “lying amongst the slain, grievously wounded”. He was most probably taken from the battlefield to the nearby Cambuskenneth Abbey for immediate treatment. It is also widely believed and quite probable that Moray recovered sufficiently in order to be present at Haddington on the 11th of October, 1297, for that was when and where he and Wallace ‘signed’ those famous letters, which were dispatched to the Merchants of Lübeck and Hamburg – represented today by the surviving exemplar; the so-called ‘Lübeck Letter’. Signed, in that context, is a slightly misleading word, for what passed as a signature in those days was an individual’s seal, made of wax and showing his heraldic symbol or arms. The seals of both Wallace and Moray were attached to the letters sent to Hamburg and Lübeck.

Exactly a week after sealing and sending the letters to those two Hanseatic League towns, the Scots invaded England. A month later and once again, Wallace and Moray were writing letters. There names and seals were affixed to a protection issued to the Monks of the Monastery of Hexham in Northumberland. According to the ‘Chronicle’ of Walter of Guisborough, their first letter begins with a familiar greeting; “Andreas de Moravia and Willelmus Wallensis, Commanders of the Army of the Kingdom of Scotland, in the name of the Lord John, by God’s grace illustrious King of Scotland, by consent of the Community of that Realm, giving greeting to all of that Realm to whom the present letter shall come.” And it continues with a declaration of protection for the Monks; “we have duly received into the firm peace and protection of the King and of ourselves the Prior and Monastery of Hexham” and a warning to leave the poor Friars be; “Therefore we strictly forbid anyone to presume to inflict on them, in their persons, lands, or belongings, any ill, interference, injury, or hurt, on pain of incurring full forfeiture to the King himself; or to cause the death of them, or of any one of them, on pain of loss of life and limb”. That letter was sealed on the 7th of November, 1297.

The Commanders of the Army of the Kingdom of Scotland wrote a further letter on that same day. The evidence of the seals of both men having been attached to the ‘Hexham Documents’ of the 7th of November is taken to indicate that Moray, as well as Wallace, was present in the English town on that day. It is generally believed that he had to have been physically present at the time in order for his seal to have been applied to the documents. To skeptics or truth seekers, or scoundrels seeking to denigrate the achievements of Wallace and Moray, the evidence is presented as being merely circumstantial. The doubters suggest or even claim that Moray was never present at Hexham, let alone Haddington. They make their assertions, based on contradictory evidence about the death of Moray.

Some of that evidence stems from a formal inquisition into the affairs of Andrew Moray’s uncle, Sir William Moray of Bothwell. Sir William had held extensive lands in Lanarkshire and at Lilleford in Lincolnshire, and he was known as ‘le riche’ due to his extensive personal wealth. However, he had died in poverty in England and the inquest was held in Berwick in November of 1300. In those proceedings, it was determined that Andrew Moray had been “slain at Stirling against the King”. Further evidence in support of that view is claimed from the fact that no recognised chronicle source places Moray at Hexham. Indeed, Walter of Guisborough's chronicle, which contains a detailed account of the Scottish invasion of northern England in late 1297, makes it clear that it was led by Wallace. The final piece of evidence is, in actual fact, simply a lack of evidence, namely that after Hexham (whether or not Moray was present), there is no further extant historical record of any signing and sealing activity by Moray.

Assuming that Moray was wounded, rather than killed, at Stirling Bridge; if it makes sense for him to have accompanied Wallace into England, it stands to reason that his injuries would have prevented him taking part in any fighting. That being the case, it is not surprising that Walter has nothing to say of Moray’s activities and instead exclusively focuses on Wallace, who was causing the damage and destruction. The big debate should be whether or not Moray accompanied Wallace, not whether he was still alive at that time. Moray was undoubtedly in a weakened state from his wounds and it is certain that, by mid-November, he was dead. Facts are scarce, but it is known that his body was taken north to the Cathedral in Fortrose. Let’s say that he was not killed at Stirling Bridge, but was mortally wounded and survived until around the 10th of November, 1297. Does it not make sense for Wallace to have felt entitled to include his co-Commander’s name on all official documents, whether or not he was physically present, but only as long as Moray remained alive?

It has also been suggested that Wallace was compelled to continue to issue documents jointly, because of the Scottish feudal elite, whose political intrigues may otherwise have been directed at regaining their power, which Wallace had ‘usurped’. The reasoning is that, once Wallace was knighted and appointed as Guardian of Scotland, some time prior to in March, 1298, he had no further need of the ‘protection’ of Moray’s name. Make up your own mind.

The Treaty of Salisbury

The Treaty of Salisbury was signed on the 6th of November, 1289.

When Alexander III, King of Scots, died in a fall from his horse at Kinghorn in March, 1286, he left no children and, therefore, no heir. However, he did have a three years old granddaughter, whose name was Margaret and who became known as the ‘Maid of Norway’. Margaret was a Norwegian Princess; the daughter of Eric II, King of Norway, and Margaret, daughter of Alexander III, King of Scots. Wee Maggie was born in 1283, most likely in early April, and it is also likely that her poor mother died at her birth, but the date of that death is uncertain. Maggie had been acknowledged as Alexander's heir in 1284 and on his death, became Margaret, Queen of Scots. By May of 1289, Maggie was still at home in Norway and there remained uncertainty and concern, at least in Norway, about her future and safety. Consequently, in May, 1289, Eric II sent a couple of his ambassadors to Edward I of England to ask him to provide a level of protection for his daughter, described as Edward’s neice.

In the meantime in Scotland, due to Queen Margaret’s continued absence, six Guardians had been appointed, in April, 1286, to rule in her name. Had she been in Scotland, a Regent would have been appointed to rule in her name until she reached her majority. In October, 1289, Edward I, in accordance with the request of Eric II, asked those Guardians to send representatives to join discussions over Margaret’s future at a “place of parley”. The text of the treaty indicates that “[the Guardians] at the request of the said King of England, sent, in the manner that they were requested, the honourable fathers the Bishop of St Andrews and the Bishop of Glasgow, and the noble men Sir Robert de Bruce, Lord of Annandale, and Sir John Comyn”. Those men arrived in Salisbury at Michaelmas on the 29th of September “…at the month of St Michael last passed” and they met with Edward I and his representatives, “…the honourable fathers” John of Pontoise, Bishop of Winchester, and Anthony Bek, Bishop of Durham, “…and the noble men” William de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, and John de Warenne, Earl of Warenne. The messengers of the King of Norway, Sir Terri de Champs de Jeu, Piers Algod and Guthorn de Aseleye, were also in attendance.

The treaty, which was given at Salisbury on the 6th of November, 1289, the “Sunday in the feast of St Leonard” began thus: “Know us to have affirmed and established the thing treated and accorded not long ago at Salisbury concerning the arrangement of the standing of our dear Lady Madam Margaret Queen and Heiress of Scotland, and of her Kingdom, in the presence of the Noble Prince my Lord Edward, by the Grace of God King of England”.

The provisions of the Treaty of Salisbury ensured several things. It provided security for Margaret if she were to go to England until the ‘trouble’ within Scotland, which had given Eric II concern, had died down and it was safe for Margaret to move to Scotland and take up her position as Queen. It stated that “the aforesaid Lady, Queen and Heiress, come to the Kingdom of England or Scotland” before the 1st of November, 1290, being the “next All Saints’ Day” and “quit and free of all contract of marriage and espousal”. The treaty also stated, with additional references to Margaret being “free of all contract of marriage” that the King of England had “promised in good faith” that he would deliver her to Scotland “also quit and delivered of all contract of marriage” when it was safe so to do, namely when Scotland was “in good and secure peace”. Of course, the Scottish representatives were required to promise “in good faith for themselves and for the other people of Scotland” that they would “secure the land” and “make surety there” that Margaret “can come safely into her kingdom, and safely remain there, as the true Lady, Queen and Heiress”. It also included the proviso that the “good people of Scotland” would not marry Margaret without Edward’s “ordinance, desire and counsel, and by the assent of the King of Norway, her father”.

Despite all those references to Margaret being “quit and free of all contract of marriage and espousal” and unknown to the Scots, the sneaky Edward I had already applied to the Pope for dispensation for the marriage of his son Edward to marry Margaret. That dispensation was granted ten days after the signing of the treaty of Salisbury and before the treaty, without modification, was reaffirmed by the Scots at Birgham. That affirmation took place “on the first Tuesday after the feast of St Gregory, AD 1289” (the 14th of March, 1290) and was for “the greater surety and firmness of the things written above”, namely the terms of the Treaty of Salisbury as written.

An additional treaty was then drawn up at Birgham in Berwickshire, on the 18th of July, and ratified at Northampton, on the 28th of August, 1290. With that treaty, which provided for the marriage of Margaret to Edward of Caernarfon, the son of Edward I of England, ‘Longshanks’ plans for Scotland became clearer. The treaty guaranteed the “rights, laws and liberties of the Kingdom of Scotland” and, under the condition that Margaret would marry Edward’s son, Scotland was to remain “separate and divided from England according to its rightful boundaries, free in itself and without subjection”. Additionally, it seems the English negotiators had included enough reservations to render the ‘independence’ clauses useless. However, in any event, all talk of the six years old Queen Margaret marrying the four years old Prince Edward proved redundant as the poor wee lassie died in or en route to the Orkney Islands, in September or October, 1290.

Margaret’s death sparked off the disputed succession, which led to the first War of Scottish Independence. The question of who was then the rightful claimant to the Throne was a problem for Scotland as back in 1284, no one had looked beyond Margaret. Exce[t for the Bruces, that is. A couple of months after the death of Alexander III in 1286, they entered into the ‘Turnberry Bond’, which asserted their claim to the Throne. Robert Bruce, Lord of Annandale, and grandfather of Robert I, asserted that Alexander II had recognised him as next in line to the Throne of Scotland even before the birth of Alexander III. Later, in 1291, Edward I ominously summoned the Scottish nobles to meet him at Norham-on-Tweed. There, he styled himself ‘Lord Paramount of Scotland’ and challenged the claimants to the Scottish Throne to recognise him as their feudal superior.