The man, the myth, the murderer: how Robert the Bruce slaughtered his way to the throne

As Scotland celebrates the 750th birthday of Robert the Bruce, the national hero lauded for his military exploits against the ‘auld enemy’, Fiona Watson reveals the shadowy side of a ruthless noble who schemed and slaughtered his way to the throne

King Robert I of Scotland statue at Stirling Castle.

Published: July 11, 2024 at 12:50 PM

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He’s the beleaguered king on the run, finding courage and inspiration in the perseverance of a spider. The noble hero on his great horse, gazing across the field of his most famous victory. The inspiration for stirring rhetoric on freedom.

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He’s Robert the Bruce, celebrated in poetry and story, in song and on the silver screen. As Scotland celebrates the 750th anniversary of his birth, the great king shows no sign of losing his appeal as a national hero – a medieval David confronting the Goliath of England.

He was certainly remarkable. Indeed, I would argue that the myth cloaking the Bruce has denied him full recognition as a military leader of extraordinary vision and talent. But there’s another side to this coin: cold, calculating ambition and utter ruthlessness, reflected in his flexible loyalty, his efforts to rewrite history – and his role in the murder of his greatest rival to the throne.

Read more | Robert the Bruce: champion of Scotland or murderous usurper?

Competitive spirit

Robert Bruce was born on 11 July 1274, probably on one of his family’s manors in Essex. Like many noble families in the British Isles, the Bruces were of Norman origin.

The first Robert de Brus crossed the Channel around 1100, earning lands and offices in the service of Henry I of England and David I of Scotland. (Almost all Bruce heirs were named Robert, so it’s helpful to give them numbers: the most famous, King Robert I ‘the Bruce’, was Robert 7.) Bruces became wealthy and prominent in both countries. However, it was the Scottish branch of the family, centred on the western border lordship of Annandale, that proved the most upwardly mobile.

Robert 5, known as ‘the Competitor’ – and grandfather of ‘the’ Bruce – was the first to pursue the Scottish crown. He had inherited a considerable property portfolio on both sides of the border, but nurtured higher ambitions bolstered by his royal lineage. He was the eldest son of Isabel of Huntingdon, great-granddaughter of David I of Scotland, and set his sights on the Scottish throne following the deaths of Alexander III in 1286 and that king’s only direct heir, Margaret of Norway, in 1290.

In the ensuing succession crisis – including a brief civil war – the Bruces ultimately lost out to John Balliol, grandson of Isabel of Huntingdon’s elder sister; no doubt they believed they’d been robbed. Certainly, John Balliol’s reign (1292–96) was difficult for the Bruces. By the time war broke out between Scotland and England in 1296, the year after Robert 5 died, they’d lost all Scottish possessions. So Roberts 6 and 7 turned to England.

In spring 1296, both Roberts rode with the army brought north by Edward I to punish Balliol for daring to question English overlordship. King John was also – correctly – accused of seeking a closer relationship with England’s enemy, France. But once John had been stripped of his crown, Robert 6 – who had believed his loyalty to England would be rewarded with the Scottish throne – was gobsmacked to be told by Edward: “Have we nothing else to do than win kingdoms for you?”

Robert 6 remained loyal to Edward, but his son proved to be a chip off his grandfather’s block. By then in his early twenties, Robert 7 decided to take advantage of the political vacuum in Scotland created by the absence – in prison or in exile – of the politically powerful Comyn family. Robert gave a pretty speech to his father’s knights at Lochmaben, near Dumfries, claiming that his oath of allegiance to England had been coerced. “But since no one has ever hated his own flesh... I must go to my people and join my nation from which I was born... And I beseech you... to come with me.”

Though his father’s men refused to back him on this occasion, Robert 7 led an army on behalf of the Scottish political community, supposedly against unprecedented English financial demands. Despite the fact that he soon capitulated, he was still viewed with suspicion by the English government.

Timeline: The rise, fall and rise of Robert Bruce

11 July 1274: Robert the Bruce, the seventh of that name, is born – – probably on his family’s property in Essex, or possibly at Turnberry Castle in Ayrshire. 1286–92: Following the death of King Alexander III, competition for the Scottish throne flares between Robert Bruce (grandfather of the later king) and John Balliol eventually being resolved in the latter’s favour. Spring 1296: The seventh Robert Bruce takes part in the conquest of Scotland launched by Edward I of England. Two years later, he is named guardian of Scotland but is forced out by his co-guardian, John Comyn of Badenoch. 10 February 1306: Robert kills John Comyn at the Greyfriars monastery in Dumfries, and seizes the throne of Scotland. He is inaugurated in Scone six weeks later. 23–24 June 1314: Robert wins a spectacular victory at the site now known as Bannockburn, just south of Stirling, using the terrain and expert tactics to defeat the much larger English army of Edward II. 1319: Irked by Robert’s continued conflict with England, the pope excommunicates Scotland. The next year, Scottish nobles respond with the letter known as the Declaration of Arbroath, asking for recognition of Scotland’s independence. 1323: After years of fighting, Scotland and England conclude a 13-year truce. 5 March 1324: The king’s second wife, Elizabeth de Burgh, gives birth to his only legitimate surviving son, David. In the same year, the pope finally recognises Robert (whose statue is pictured, right) as the king of independent Scotland. 17 March 1328: Robert signs the treaty ending the war with England, which is countersigned by Edward III on 1 May, acknowledging the independence of Scotland. 7 June 1329: Robert Bruce dies in his house in Cardross, near Dumbarton Castle, and is succeeded by his son, David II.

The young Robert was the least of Edward’s worries, though. Revolt was spreading, culminating in Scottish victory at Stirling Bridge in September 1297. A new government was set up, led by the victor, William Wallace, as guardian for the imprisoned King John. But in July 1298, Edward defeated Wallace in person, though Scotland as a whole did not capitulate.

Now Robert, recognising that Wallace’s political career was over, made his move; by the end of the year, he had become guardian – a remarkable political achievement.

He did not rule alone, however. The Comyns had been sent back to Scotland in 1297 to help stabilise Edward’s rule but, after Stirling Bridge, they rejoined the fight for Scottish independence, and John Comyn of Badenoch took power alongside Robert 7.

Comyn was a similar age to Bruce, and just as ambitious; naturally, they hated each other. But Robert’s political clout was no match for his fellow guardian’s, and he was soon forced out. By 1302, he had made his peace with Edward; Comyn, meanwhile, continued as guardian, leading the fight against English forces until 1304 when exhaustion and diplomatic isolation forced the Scots to make peace.

Eye on the throne

As the last castle fell to the English, Robert 7 received news of his father’s death. Immediately, his thoughts seem to have turned to the throne. Edward was clearly ill, and the Scots would not have to wait long for their oaths of loyalty to die with him.

But Robert now faced a problem. John Comyn had not only led the Scots for most of the war; he was also Balliol’s closest relative in Scotland and, once Edward was dead, the man most likely to become king. He was Bruce’s bitter rival.

So Robert couldn’t afford to wait. The events of 10 February 1306 are so obscured by deliberate lies that we’ll never know exactly what happened. It seems that, thanks to their history of animosity, John Comyn would meet Bruce only on sacred ground – the Greyfriars monastery in Dumfries. Did they agree to meet in order to talk about the throne? If so, their conversation was short, because Comyn and his uncle seem to have been stabbed almost immediately. The later story – that Bruce didn’t know if he’d killed his rival – is propaganda designed to exculpate him from having landed the fatal blow.

This murder was not, as Hollywood would have it, something that had to be done for the greater good, and to a man whose grovelling acquiescence to English rule meant he pretty much deserved it. Rather, it was the cold-blooded removal of a rival with better credentials to lead Scotland than Bruce, in terms of blood, political support and experience. John Comyn’s killing came to cast a long shadow over Robert’s reign when he did eventually take the throne.

As the man behind the murder, Bruce knew that only the ailing Edward could save him from the Comyns’ vengeance. Seemingly, he offered to accept the English king’s overlordship in return for the throne. The response was a stunned silence, prompting Robert to declare to the English government that he would “defend himself with the longest stick he had”.

He was enthroned at Scone on 25 March 1306. As Robert Bruce, he was a dead man; as King Robert I of Scotland, he might gather support from those Scots who were not close to the Comyns.

Once king, though, Robert made such basic tactical errors that he soon ended up on the run. Many close supporters, including three of his brothers, were executed by an incandescent Edward I, and his wife and daughter were imprisoned. As the year ebbed, he fled to far north-west Scotland with only a few companions, lucky to be alive. As a result he was dubbed ‘King Hobbe’ – an outlaw who rode not a noble warhorse but a little ‘hobby.’

It was at this point he truly proved his mettle. Spider or not, these undocumented months proved miraculous. While his men languished in the depths of despair, Bruce cheered them by recounting the tale of “worthy Fierabras”, a ‘Saracen’ who faced similar challenges but survived to become one of Charlemagne’s knights. The new king was clearly loved: reunions with friends who thought him dead brought forth “tears of joy”.

Student of warfare

Most importantly, Robert knuckled down to study warfare – notably the victory of the spear-wielding Flemings over the French cavalry in the so-called battle of the Golden Spurs at Courtrai (Kortrijk) in 1302. He surely discussed guerrilla tactics with his Hebridean hosts, too.

Bruce returned to the fray as a warrior king – albeit one who preferred the heather to a castle hearth. His tactics were flexibility and surprise. He might burn fortresses, ambush English forces in tree-covered valleys (at Glen Trool in April 1307), or even fight on an open field, so long as proper precautions were taken to neutralise a cavalry charge, as at Loudoun Hill in May 1307. Even before Edward I’s death in July 1307, Robert’s successes prompted many Scots to take a chance on him.

The new English king, Edward II, had to contend with an empty treasury as well as a nature vulnerable to domineering men who caused political problems. No English army crossed the northern border for another three years, leaving Robert free to deal with the civil war he had unleashed.

While his brother, Edward, took on Balliol’s lordship of Galloway in the south-west, King Robert headed into Comyn territory in the north-east. Winter did not deter them, nor mountains, nor long marches. John Comyn had used similar tactics, but Robert made them into an art form. When severe illness sparked rumours of his demise, Bruce’s presence on the battlefield – propped up on a litter – was enough to prompt his enemies to flee.

By the end of 1308, the Comyns and their supporters had been forced out of Scotland and the earldom of Buchan had been set ablaze, its inhabitants brutally slaughtered in their homes.

Edward II’s presence in Scotland in 1310–11 helped rally anti-Bruce forces – but he could not stay forever. For the moment, Robert preferred to avoid English armies. He launched raids into northern England as a prelude to extracting money in exchange for guarantees not to do it again. He wanted peace, but only if Edward acknowledged Scottish independence and Bruce’s right to rule – which the English king would never do.

More castles fell to Bruce and his audacious commanders by siege, surprise or ruse, and were destroyed. By October 1313, Robert felt strong enough to declare that all Scottish landowners who had not yet accepted him as king had one year to do so or risk forfeiture.

Pivotal showdown

The gauntlet had been thrown down. Edward II duly picked it up, finally putting together a financial package to pay for another army. But Robert laid his plans for a decisive face-off – including determining the location of the clash to his own advantage.

Stirling Castle – the last English stronghold – was besieged by Scottish forces, and its commander agreed to yield if not relieved by Edward II’s army by midsummer 1314. When the English forces arrived to battle Robert’s less numerous troops, the Bruce used the discipline he’d instilled in his men, along with his tactical nous, to win a stunning victory at Bannockburn.

This triumph came in large part through his drilling, over previous weeks, of moveable schiltroms (Scottish spear formations), and his command over an army ordered to take no prisoners or booty until the battle was won. But he did not neglect to inspire his men, either. “You could have lived in serfdom,” he told them the night before his victory. “But because you yearned to have freedom, you are gathered here with me.”

In contrast with Robert, Edward was cocksure but clueless. Yet Bannockburn did not win Robert peace. True, his womenfolk were returned (following their capture by the English in 1306), and many former enemies accepted Bruce as their lord. But even though the raids on northern England continued, and Edward Bruce opened another front in Ireland in 1315, still the English king wouldn’t budge.

Pressure was applied on Robert from abroad, too. Pope John XXII wanted another crusade, which would require the warriors of western Europe to make peace with each other. Bruce, though, defiantly continued his military action, prompting the irate pope to excommunicate the entire nation.

A letter written in Latin and sent by Scottish barons to the papal court in Avignon in 1320 was Scotland’s impassioned response. Known now as the Declaration of Arbroath, it contained lines immortalised in translation on a thousand T-shirts: “As long as a hundred of us remain alive, we will never in any degree be subject to the dominion of the English. It is not for glory, honours or riches that we fight, but for liberty alone, which no good man loses but with his life.”

When Edward Bruce died in Ireland in 1318, his brother was finally persuaded that force wasn’t working, and that he needed friends abroad. By 1323, the warring kings agreed a 13-year truce, binding should either of them die. Since Bruce was older, this was surely meant to buy time for his heir – initially his grandson, Robert Stewart (born in 1316 to his daughter, Marjorie) – to come of age. But in January 1327, Edward II was forced to abdicate; he died eight months later. Breaching the truce, King Robert launched an attack on England. Edward III’s regency government decided they needed to make peace. Despite the fury of the young English king, a treaty was concluded in spring 1328.

Arduous life

Robert the Bruce was by then more than 50 years old. His life had been arduous, and it’s a miracle he had survived so long. Retiring to his new manor at Cardross, he lingered until June 1329; he was succeeded by his son, born in 1324, who ruled as David II.

But even death didn’t end Robert’s endeavours. His great commander and friend James Douglas had promised to take his king’s heart on one final journey, to fulfil Robert’s crusading vow (see the box, right). Though it never reached the Holy Land, the Bruce’s heart did travel farther in death than he did in life.

What should we make of this remarkable life? It’s a pity that Hollywood seems unwilling to recount the real story of a man more ambitious than Shakespeare’s Macbeth – a king who achieved the seemingly impossible, dying in his bed at what was, considering the times and his many travails, the ripe old age of 54.

Robert the Bruce’s single-mindedness and devastating military acumen paved the way for survival and success

Robert Bruce was a cold-blooded murderer. The savage example he made of Buchan, slaying its inhabitants, was remembered for generations. It could be argued that brutal times demand brutal men, and that Scotland’s predicament left little room for compassion and compromise – though Bruce, like Edward I, could be statesmanlike when necessary. Yet a much harsher judgment has been passed on Bruce’s enemies. The Comyns had every reason to fight against him, but their reputations – not least as leaders of Scottish resistance to Edward I – have been trashed by Robert’s propagandists and subsequent historians.

History was also rewritten in official documents to the French king and the pope to exaggerate the legitimacy of Robert’s claim to the throne, and to denigrate the rights and character of his predecessor, John Balliol. This process reached its apogee with Archdeacon John Barbour’s romance poem The Bruce, written in the 1370s during the reign of that first King Robert’s grandson, Robert II. This partisan version of events became a cornerstone of Scotland’s story, incorporated into subsequent chronicles and accepted without much question until relatively recently – yet another example of the victor writing history.

Yet Robert Bruce turned out to be exactly what Scotland needed in 1306. He was extraordinary, his single-mindedness and devastating military acumen paving the way for incredible survival and success. And he was loved, his charisma echoing down the centuries in stories of his ability to inspire, even in the most difficult of circumstances. Seen from a safe distance of 700 years, I would not wish him any other way.

The final journey of the Bruce's heart

How part of the Bruce was carried to Spain and back

Robert the Bruce’s grandfather had gone on crusade with Prince Edward of England in 1270, and the king’s desire to go himself seems entirely genuine. But by the time he signed a treaty ending the war with the English in 1328, he was too sick. He had a plan, though. After Robert’s burial, “The good lord [Sir James] Douglas then had a case of fine silver made, cunningly enamelled; he [put] the king’s heart in it [despite papal edicts against evisceration] and wore it always round his neck.” Douglas, long Robert’s trusted commander, travelled by boat – in great style, with an entourage of nearly 30 – to Seville to help Alfonso XI of Castile in his war against the Muslim ruler of Granada, seeing it as a staging post en route to the Holy Land. At the end of August 1330, Alfonso’s army moved to Teba, 85 miles west of Granada, where they prepared for battle. However, the day before the clash, Douglas was killed – along with several other Scots – either because he attacked the Muslims precipitately (which is entirely believable) or while trying to save one of his men. Realising he’d been surrounded and wouldn’t survive, Sir James reputedly took off the casket containing Robert’s heart and hurled it ahead of him, shout- ing “A Douglas! A Douglas!” Whatever the truth of the matter, the Scots blamed Alfonso for the death of their great general. He was brought home to Scotland, along with Bruce’s heart, which was reputedly laid to rest in its casket in Melrose Abbey. Sir James was buried in his family’s mau- soleum in St Bride’s Church, Douglas.

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Fiona Watson is a historian and author whose books include Robert the Bruce (The History Press, 2014)

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