Royal betrothals were, of course, affairs of state, and ordinary people knew little or nothing about them. We of the Abbey fraternity learned a little more as the proceedings developed, since the treaties were drafted by our religious and clerical brethren in various locations, and the word, privileged and close held as it was, spread quickly through our communities. In those early days everyone was happy with what was happening because it served multiple purposes, not the least of which was a settlement of the increasingly rancorous rivalry between the two noble Houses of Bruce and Balliol—including by extension the House of Comyn, inextricably linked with Balliol through blood and marriage—over their competing claims to the succession. Fostered by those feelings of goodwill, and unbelievable though it seems now from more than fifty years’ distance, no one in Scotland objected strongly to Edward Plantagenet’s claim to acknowledgment as feudal overlord of Scotland in return for his services as arbiter. That was perceived to be a matter of semantics rather than literal interpretation, for the feudal laws of the time attested to the spirit of that convention of overlordship—most of the Scots magnates had held lands in England for generations under feudal grants from English monarchs—and the Treaty of Birgham clearly stated that the realm of Scotland would remain “separate and divided from England according to its rightful boundaries, free in itself and without subjection.” No man in Scotland could even have imagined that Edward of England might soon insist upon the letter of that unwritten accord and claim the throne of Scotland for himself.
In the eyes of the Scots populace, the single noticeable thing to grow out of those preliminary agreements was an increasing presence of English soldiery and men-at-arms within the realm. It began quietly and with all the appearances of legitimacy; England’s King had declared his goodwill in the matter of the Scots succession and was involved with the magnates of the noble houses in ensuring their commitment to the Birgham agreement. To that end, and on his regal behalf, detachments of English soldiery soon began to move freely throughout the land, tending to King Edward’s affairs and safeguarding his interests, and in the beginning no one, including our little circle of family and friends, paid much attention to their comings and goings.
But within a half year of the Birgham agreement, disquieting stories of English misbehaviour began to circulate, and although many of those were discounted at the outset, the reports became more frequent. All of them described English abuses and transgressions against the common law and the Scots folk, quickly forming a pattern that could not be denied.
Will showed no interest as these reports came to us. I tried more than once to coax out his opinions on the matter, but only once did he respond, on a night after dinner, when Peter and Duncan had been in Elderslie with me. He had refused to be drawn into their debate around the table. Afterwards, though, when only he and I were left in front of the fire, he spoke eloquently, and the quiet fury underlying his words shook me to my core.
“What d’you want me to tell you, Jamie?” He spoke in Scots, not in Latin, and that alone told me something of the depth of his emotions. “That these stories are no’ true? That folk are just makin’ them up to cause trouble? That the English wouldna do such things? For the love o’ Christ, these are the people who cut off wee Jenny’s head and used two wee boys as women. And now they’re doing things folk dinna like … What did anybody expect, can ye tell me that? The only thing that surprises me about it is that it’s ta’en so long for folk to see it. The English treat the common folk like slaves, here for their pleasure, and they’ve done it frae the outset. They don’t think we’re human. What was it Peter said? They lord it over us because they believe, deep down in their bones, that we’re … what in the hell was it? A subservient people. Aye, that’s what he said. They see us as a secondary race inferior to anything that’s English. Shite. Don’t get me started on it, Jamie.”
“I thought you were already started.”
He flexed his shoulders. “Well, what did you expect? Are you surprised? You’ve been asking me for weeks what I think of all this, and I’ve been trying not to get involved because I know there’s nothing I can do about it.” He had switched back to Latin.
“So why are you talking about it now?”
“Because I can’t believe how blind people are.”
“Explain.”
“I don’t know if I can, but I shouldn’t need to. Like this nonsense about the Englishry only doing what they do because their local commanders are too lenient. Everybody’s tripping over themselves to make excuses for the poor soldiers, blaming it all on the attitudes of the officers. In God’s name, Jamie, are they all mad? They sound like it, whenever I listen to them. There’s not a single knight, not one petty commander among all the English forces in Scotland, who would dare attempt any of this rubbish unless he knew beyond a doubt that his masters, the barons and earls of England, up to and including their King, would approve of it. And there’s the nub of it. Whatever is happening here, from general disregard for the common law to the organized arrogance with which they swagger through our land, has the support of the English lords and barons. Nobody seems to believe it yet, but you mark my words, Jamie, they will, and by then it could be too late to change it.”