Wyntoun's War or the "Rough Wooing" of my 19th Great Grandmother

I’m taking a small break this month from the Bruce sisters.  I promise to finish up next month with Maud, Margaret and Mary de Brus.  Due to two new roofs and other demanding needs, I just wasn't able to devote the time I need for the remaining trio.  Instead, I will speak of some Bruce relations, for they are of the blood, cousins.  But, more importantly, this tale is about love, romance, and a lovers dash to Edinburgh Castle—that may or may not have been a kidnapping—and the man and woman who were my 19th great-grandparents.

Wyntoun's War 
or the Rough Wooing of my 19th Great-Grandmother.

At the start of 1343, Lady Margaret de Seton was suddenly thrust into the role of heiress to her father, Lord Alexander de Seton, governor of Berwick Castle.  The Setons were longtime supporters of Clan Bruce, and even married into it.  Alexander was the brother of Sir Christopher Seton, who wed Christian de Brus (sister to Robert the Bruce).  You might recall from my previous article about this Bruce sister that Christopher was Christian’s second husband, and he gave his life defending the Bruce women when they were trying to flee the English in 1306.  Over the decades, the Setons were recognized for their loyalty and rewarded by Bruce, and they continued to support his son David II at the cost of their lives.

Margaret de Seton, born around 1330, was Alexander’s last child and only daughter.  She became heiress to her father’s vast wealth at a young age, and not a position she had anticipated inheriting.  She had four valiant warriors for older brothers—Alexander, John, William and Thomas.  If one fell, another would assume the titles and lands rightfully his.  Some historians dismissively list her as Alexander Seton’s granddaughter, and instead, put her as the daughter of her brother, Alexander.  A couple try to fix her as daughter of John, another brother, (likely because she became heiress after John’s death).  These careless mix-ups really cause snarls, which few show interest in fixing.  Both Alexanders—father and son—were at Berwick Castle at the time of the siege of 1332-3, so for starters, they tend to blur the two Alexanders into one person, which they are not.  The father outlived the son by over a decade.  Margaret clearly was the daughter of Alexander the elder and Christian le Chenyne (granddaughter of Isabella Macduff, countess of Buchan—the woman who crowned Bruce king).  However, the confusion doesn’t end there.  Her mother’s name was Christian, and her uncle Christopher married Christian de Brus, thus many are now listing Christopher and Bruce’s sister as her parents, which they are not.  Christopher died in 1306, long before Margaret came along.

In the late summer of 1332, Alexander—the father—was governor of Berwick Castle, when a siege was laid.  His defense of the fortress cost him three of his sons. Margaret’s brothers died valiantly in the continued struggle against Edward Balliol and Edward III.  Alexander, was killed in the Battle of Kinghorn, where the son of John Balliol was trying to land in Scotland so he might claim the Scottish crown for himself.  William also died in the same fight, drowned in repulsing the landing.  A third brother, Thomas, was captured.  Seton called for a truce, which was granted, but only on condition that he surrender if not relieved by the Scots before the 11th of July.  They were relieved by riders, men under Sir William Keith, Sir Alexander Gray and Sir William Prenderguest. Only Edward III of England said the riders came from the English side of the border, not Scottish, so the castle was not “relieved from Scotland” and thus he proceeded to execute Thomas and ten other men held prisoner.  Alexander and his wife were forced to watch as Thomas was hanged, drawn and quartered before the gates of the town.  Keith took command of the town from Alexander (small wonder), and negotiated a second truce which held—an unconditional surrender to the English, but it allowed all the Scots to leave unharmed.

Around the mid-1340s tragedy again strikes the Setons.  Twice.  First, Sir Alexander dies around 1343, and the title goes to the remaining son, Sir John.  Only, three years later, John dies at the Battle of Neville’s Cross in Durham, England.  And dies without issue.  Some list him as marrying a Margaret Ruthven and having a son, Alexander, but that is likely an echo of the mess they have created with Seaton and his son, who died at the Battle of Kinghorn.  I believe this to be false, because had there been a son, that child would’ve inherited the estate of his grandfather, not his aunt, Margaret.  For Margaret to become heiress it clearly means John didn’t have a child for the estate to go to, and as John’s younger sister, Margaret was next in line.

So, there in a space of less than three years, she loses her father, and his final son, John, dies in battle.  A lot of heartache facing a young woman.  With the passing of her father and brother, she is suddenly a very rich heiress—and target of greedy young men everywhere.

As you might assume, Sir Alexander was popular in the hearts of the people of East Lothian, in his never failing support around the Bruce family.  He had sacrificed a brother and three sons in protecting Bruce’s rule and his legacy, and finally the fourth son had died in the same service.  The prominence of the Seton family had risen, along with that of the Stewarts and Bruces.  Thus, the people of East Lothian felt a protectiveness toward young Margaret.  Only, others hoped to latch onto her wealth and the power of her name, so the young woman was nearly crushed in the stampede of suitors for her hand.

Into the middle of this story rides one dashing and handsome Baron Alan de Wyntoun, son of Alan de Wynton and Margaret Murray (de Moray).   This new Margaret really complicates matters in trying to keep things reasonably straight, because she is the granddaughter of Christian de Brus.  Yeah, Excedrin headache 113, and it only gets worse!  She was also the granddaughter of Thomas Randolph, 1st earl of Moray—Bruce’s nephew.  I know you are really hating all these tangled lines, but I needed to demonstrate why a small knight, a vassal of Sir Alexander Seton, would take it upon himself to swoop in and abduct Margaret.  I am assuming, though the Wyntouns, who took vows of homage and fealty to the mighty Setons, they felt they had as much right to status and position through their close lineage to the Bruces and the Randolphs.

Emboldened by the blood in his veins, Alan carried off Margaret in what the Scots called a “rough wooing”.  Well, hadn’t Marjorie Carrick snatched Robert Bruce, lord Annandale in this fashion?  And let’s not forget about William le Hardi Douglas, who executed a raid to abscond with his second wife, Eleanor Bagot de Lovayne.  Alan and Margaret grew up hearing these stories around fireside.  Alan was akin to the royal family, and was in fact cousin to the Setons.  I am guessing Alan saw the chance to raise the Wyntouns up to the level they had been heretofore denied by forcing the then seventeen-year-old woman into marriage.  At least, some said forced.

Alan wasn’t the first, nor the last Scotsman, to take this quick route to winning the hand of an heiress.  Only, it was another thing to pull this stunt so closely following Sir John’s death at Neville's Cross, and as they say, poor Alexander barely cold in his grave. 

Since the Wyntouns were close cousins to the Setons, and a cadet branch of her own family, there arose cries of consanguinity—mostly from the disappointed rivals, who still hoped to get their chance of being husband to the valuable heiress if they broke the marriage.  There is scant enough material to make a good judgment call on whether this was a kidnapping or an elopement.  I come down on the side that Margaret was a party to the plan, and was determined to marry whom she wanted before a king stepped in and forced her to wed someone she didn’t care for.  Maybe it’s the romantic in me, but how the event unfolded only reinforced that belief they were in love and wanting to control their own fate.

Inadvertently, the two lovers seemed to set half of East Lothians out for blood, while the others were ready to hold a wedding feast.  A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, but it was said her abduction caused a war—the Wyntoun’s War.  Still, whether or not this was an actual abduction to force a marriage, or something Margaret actively participated in so she could marry Alan, was hotly debated at the time.  The one telling fact that sticks out in my mind—his uncle, William de Moray, brother to Alan’s mother, took the young couple into Edinburgh Castle.  He was governor there, and granted the lovers protection within the castle walls, barring the angry mob that was following in their wake.

One chronicler. Fordun, proclaimed that 'a hundred ploughs were laid aside in Lothian while the matter was discussed.’  Half favored “the ravisher” and applauded Wyntoun for taking the situation in hand.  Others were armed and ready to bring him in for punishment for daring to steal the daughter of his overlord.  And the jilted suitors likely screamed the loudest!  Citizens of Lothian grew into an angry mob and fell upon the castle, demanding Wyntoun be handed over.  When Wyntoun’s uncle refused, an objection quickly made it all the way to the ear of King David II,  and a call was sent out for Alan to be arrested—cousin or not!

Keep in mind, Alan and Margaret are my 19th great-grandparents, so I am possibly a bit prejudiced.  Be still my heart—for after much arguing and various threats, Margaret was required to perform The Ring or The Sword ceremony.  I wrote about the rite and ritual in A Restless Knight— when Tamlyn marries Julian Challon in the old ways.  Family lore says the couple I based them upon went through this ceremony when they wed, but they haven't been fully documented yet.  So, imagine my thrill at finding proof of yet another set of great-grandparents going through this very same ceremony! One tale says Margaret was blindfolded and made to choose between a sword and a ring, each resting upon a pillow.  She did not get to feel these objects, by the way, but had to touch the pillow upon which they rested to determine Alan's fate.  This was seen as a Trial by Ordeal—God’s hand would decide Alan’s fate through her selection.  Other tales say she made her own choice—knowingly, and had from the start.  Whichever you wish to believe, Margaret picked the ring, and she and Alan were officially wed.  They lived together as man and wife, and had two children*** —a son William and a daughter, Christian.

*** I put the stars here to make note there is extreme conflict on the number of children.  William and Christian are fully recognized and well-documented as Alan and Margaret’s children—their only children.  However, some genealogy sites list the couple as having two other sons—Alexander and Henry. Some list the men as Margaret’s sons, half-brothers to William and Christian, implying they were fathered by another man after Alan left.  However, this doesn’t hold water for me since both of these sons inherited Wyntoun lands and titles, and chose to use the Wyntoun name, not the Seton name and honours.  The conflicts arise because both are shown as born years after Alan’s death.  I sincerely believe the date of Alan’s death is off by a decade, and these two are his legitimate sons, which jives with proof to them inheriting his holdings and electing to use his surname.  Even sites that run by the Seton family recognize both of them as Alan’s.  If you take the stance, as I believe, Alan died ten years later than they record, then these are his legitimate sons.

Alexander de Wyntoun of Seton married Jean Halyburton, daughter of Sir Thomas Halyburton of Dirleton.  The youngest son, Henry de Wyntoun, retained his father's surname and inherited Wrychthouses in Edinburgh.  Henry married Amy Brouna of Coalston, and he went on to be one of the heroes of the Battle of Otterburn, August 19, 1388. 

Margaret’s daughter Christian (though they start up with muddling things again by often calling her Margaret, too), went on to do well, marrying George Dunbar, the 9th earl of Dunbar and March—son of Gelis Isabelle Randolph and John Dunbar, of Derchester & Birkynside, earl of Fife—and grandson of Thomas Randolph, earl of Moray.  They went on to have nine daughters and sons.

After the marriage, Alan changed his name to Seton, and used the title of Lord Seton, jure uxoris (by right of wife).  Even so, rumors held that Margaret’s family tended to make life such a continuing hell for Alan that by his early fifties he took to the cross, joining the Knights Hospitallers and went off on a crusade.  Since the last crusade had ended long before this time, it’s assumed he went to the Holy Lands as a pilgrim.  He is recorded as leaving 400 ducats of gold for safe keeping with a Venetian merchant, Nicholas Zucull, in London as he departed England, but that is the last anyone hears of Alan de Wyntoun de Seton.

In 1363 his son, Lord William Seton authorized Adam Wymondham, a citizen, and Nicholas Nogrebon, a Venetian, to recover the money.  The document states that Alan had died on his way to Mount Sinai, when about to visit the tomb of St. Katherine there.  The date of Lord William seeking to recover the money in 1363 seems to support Alan “vanishing” around 1357.  There is no reason they would wait sixteen years to recover the gold.

Little is mentioned of the remainder of Margaret’s life.  She died around 1360, about four years after the disappearance of her husband.

I am sorry such a pale hangs over the end to their story, both vaguely fading into the mists of history without a definitive end to their lives, or what happened to turn Alan against his family and to leave.  But the romance writer in me loves having a real life set of grandparents who went through The Ring and the Sword ceremony, just like my beloved Tamlyn and Julian.

Women of Bruce – Part 5 — Sisters of Robert Bruce: A Tale of Two Isabels.

Women of Bruce – Part 5 —

Sisters of Robert Bruce: A Tale of Two Isabels.

When you really get deep into genealogy you run into a stumbling block of reused names.  I have 37 Robert Bruces in my family tree.  Nearly as many Patrick Dunbars and Hugh, William and James Montgomeries.  I understand that men want sons to carry on their names for immortality.  Only, sometimes it isn’t just the men’s names, which provoke the need to be careful in charting your ancestors—it can be the women, too!  Take the name Margaret—I have over 1000 of those.  Elizabeth?  Oh, yeah!  1333 in my tree (and counting!).  And Isabel/Isabella/Isabelle/Isobel?—406 and many belonging to the Bruce family.  Both of Robert Bruce’s grandmothers were named Isabel—Isabel de Clare and Margaret Isabel FitzAlan Stewart.  His paternal great-grandmothers were Isabelle of Huntington and Isabel Marshall, countess of Glouster, Hertford, Cornwall and Poitou.  Robert married his first wife—Isabel of Mar.  He was crowned by Isabella Macduff, a cousin.  But to really confuse matters he had two sisters by the same first name!

 Yes, this tales of two ladies named Isabel is a study in frustration and chaos.  Once more, we are forced to wade through incorrect information, details—or lack thereof— about two different women historians so casually dismissed, or merged into one.  They are not the same female!  Genealogists have confused, mixed up, or blended the two Isabels until they are a blur, and we are left scratching our heads as to why they simply don’t recognize these ladies are two entirely different sisters of Robert Bruce.

Isabella Kilconquhar Randolph

Through his parent’s marriage, Robert Bruce had seven sisters, with only five living to adulthood—Isabel, Maud, Christian, Mary, and Margaret.  However, often overlooked—he also had an older half-sister from his mother’s first marriage.  While she wasn’t a Bruce by name, she was still his sister, and she gave birth to one of the fiercest warrior heroes Scotland has ever known—Thomas Randolph, 1st earl of Moray.

 

Both women shared the same mother—Marjorie, countess of Carrick, in her own right. (I have written about the dashing Marjorie in my previous articles).  They had different fathers.   Both men went off to join the 9th Crusade, raised by Lord Edward, duke of Gascony.  And both became close friends.  The first Isabel—Isabel Kilconquhar Randolph—was the daughter by Adam de Kilconquhar.  Occasionally, you see her referred to as Isabel Martha Kilconquhar, or Isabelle of Carrick, some mistakenly call her Isabel Bruce, and sadly, maddeningly, some do their best to ignore this daughter all together.  She has a wonderful heritage, so she should be recognized as existing and not bundled into a generic “Isabel Bruce” label.

 Marjorie Carrick married very young to Adam, son of Donnchaidh de Kilconquhar.  Evidence shows that Adam hailed from Fife and from the ancient Clan of MacDuff.  His grandfather was Adam, son of Duncan, earl of Fife.  Adam’s mother was an unnamed woman from Clan Comyn (I think through process of elimination that she was likely Johanna Comyn, daughter of Richard Comyn and Eve Amabilia Galloway).  He had a half-brother, William Comyn, who took his mother’s surname and was named in a papal appointment as the bishop of Brechin in January 1296 (2/156/3 Theiner, no. 350 and.  2/147/23 Theiner, no. 262).  Ancient and impeccable lineage, but then the man who received Marjorie in marriage would have to be worthy of a woman who came from blood royal.  Adam appears to have enjoyed the favor of the Scottish king,  Alexander III, so small wonder he won her hand.  In wedding Marjorie, Adam became the 3rd earl of Carrick, jure uxoris.  Documents of the period show him using the title of earl of Carrick.  Still, the title was little more than an honor, for while Marjorie was the heiress of Niall, 2nd earl of Carrick, her father had set the real power within the clan to follow his nephew, Lachlan.  We don’t know if Adam chafed at being earl in name only for he didn’t stay on the scene long.  Shortly after wedding Marjorie, he joined the Crusade, leaving his young bride at home at Turnberry Castle, either pregnant or with her newborn daughter, Isabella.   Within a year, Marjorie was a widow, due to Adam dying of a wound contracted in a battle in the Holy Lands.

 

(Tree showing the Randolph, Bruce and Kilconquhar Lines)

 Adam charged his close comrade—the handsome lord of Annandale, Robert Bruce—to carry the tides of his demise back to his lady wife.  It is legend how he did just that, and as he made to leave, Marjorie had her men-at-arms capture Annandale and keep him hostage until he agreed to become her second husband.  Obviously, the lady was tired of men deciding her fate.  King Alexander III was upset they had dared wed without his grace and permission.  In punishment, he seized Turnberry Castle.  Since Alexander did not fine Annandale or seize his property, it clearly demonstrated the king laid blame solely at Marjorie’s feet.  Most likely, Marjorie turned on her charm and soothed the king’s ruffled feathers, because he turned the castle back to the Bruces a short time later, and just fined Marjorie one hundred pounds for daring the umbrage.

The marriage was a happy one, and within the year, Marjorie gave birth to another daughter—which she promptly named Isabel!  So, she now had two small daughters by the same first name.  Why would Marjorie name both daughters Isabel?  Well, to honor her mother is one possibility—Margaret Isabel FitzAlan Stewart, countess of Carrick, daughter of Walter Stewart, 3rd  High Steward of Scotland and Bethóc nic Gille Chris of Angus.  Or since she named her first daughter after her mother, she was naming her second daughter after the mother of her husband—Isabel de Clare.  Whatever the motivation we now have two daughters with the same name.

Since Adam was gone, barely a ghost in people’s memory, and the two little girls were not that far apart in age, I wonder how muddled their lives became as they reached marriageable age.  Oh, you are Isabel Bruce? No, I am the other Isabel—not a Bruce.  I am unsure if not being a Bruce hurt Isabel Kilconquhar’s chances at making the best marriage possible.  Still, she didn’t do too badly.  She married Sir Thomas Randolph, Chamberlain of Scotland (whose father was Thomas of Strathnith, and who had also been a Chamberlain of Scotland).  Thomas’ mother was Juliana Kilconquhar of Moray.  Since her parentage is sketchy at best, it’s not hard to assume this she might be aunt or cousin of Isabel?

Her marriage to Sir Thomas saw her wed to a very powerful man.   As the Great Chamberlain, he had jurisdiction for judging of all crimes committed within the burgh, and of the crimes of forestalling (an antiquated term for a merchant buying his way into a market.  In effect, Thomas was Justice-General over the burghs, and held Chamberlain-ayrs every year for that purpose; the form whereof is set down in Iter Camerarii.   He was a supreme judge and his decrees could not be questioned by any inferior judicator. His sentences were to be put into execution by the Baillies of the burghs. He also settled the prices of provisions within burghs, and the fees of the workmen in the Mint.  Thomas Randolph was a man of extraordinary parts, and served both Alexander II and Alexander III.  He also aided Robert Bruce “The Competitor” in his legal bit to be made king of the Scots.  Thomas held great favor with Alexander III, who made him lord great chamberlain of Scotland in 1269, an office which of he enjoyed till the 18th Aug. 1277.  He also worked as the king’s personal attorney on many matters.  Also, the man loved to sue anyone and everyone.  The Scottish court documents show Thomas bringing lawsuits against dozens of lords and ladies over matters of estates, properties and inheritance not fulfilled.

Thomas and Isabel had three children—Nicholas, Thomas and Mabel Isabella.  (Another Isabel! LOL).  Mabel Isabella went on to wed Sir Gilbert de Hamilton, who was one of the seven Royal Knights or bodyguards for Robert the Bruce.  It was Hamilton who gave the funeral oration at the burial of King Robert the Bruce at Dunfermline Abbey.

Tower of London

Nicholas, the eldest Randolph son, was captured at the Battle of Dunbar 1296 and taken to be held prisoner in the Tower of London.  King Edward wrote to the sheriff of London concerning the payment of expenses of Scottish prisoners in the Tower, including “…William, earl of Ross, Andrew de Morpenne, John de Mowbray, Nicholas Randolph, the king’s enemies….” recorded by John of Droxford, keeper of wardrobe of King Edward I, 6th November 1297. (Docs., ii, no. 481).  Odd, in September of 1296, his father was sent to France by King John Balliol.  These two references are the last we hear of either man. It is reasonable to assume within months after Longhanks’ letter concerning the payment for his keep that Nicholas died. I haven’t found any written release, and the conditions of the release, so my guess is he died in prison.  Many of the hundreds of Scottish nobility had been returned to Scotland long before this, so it is unusual Nicholas, the son of such an important man, was still being held.

Isabel’s younger son, Thomas, was originally sworn to Edward Longshanks, and after fighting for the English, he was captured in 1306 and brought before her brother, Robert.  Arrogant, and unbowed, he taunted his uncle for engaging in guerrilla warfare instead of standing and fighting in pitched battle.  Failing to take umbrage, Robert persuaded his nephew to change sides again.  Thomas went on to become one of the king's most important and trusted captains, the 1st earl of Moray, regent for Robert’s son David II, and eventually becoming Guardian and Chamberlain of Scotland.  He was a distinguished diplomat, just as formidable an opponent at court as he had been a warrior on the battlefield.

To add to the growing list of Isabels—Isabella’s granddaughter was Agnes Randolph Dunbar, countess of Dunbar, who held the siege of Dunbar Castle.  I wrote about Agnes’ colorful exploits in A Tale of Two Women and One Castle - The Ladies of Dunbar—Part Two—Agnes Randolph.  However, son Thomas had another daughter, which he naturally named Isabelle.  And, oh, his wife’s name? —Isabel Stewart of Bonkyll.

Isabella Kilconquhar Randolph lived until her early eighties.  She outlived her husband and both sons, dying less than two years before her daughter.  She was laid to rest beside her beloved husband in Melrose Abbey, and next to his father Thomas fitzRanulf of Moray and mother, Juliana Kilconquhar.

Isabel de Brus Magnússon

Queen Isabel de Brus Magnússon’s Coat of Arms

Isabel de Brus Magnússon—the other Isabel was a full sister to Robert Bruce.  She was born less than three years after her older half-sister with which she shared a name.  She was the first child of Marjorie Carrick and Robert de Brus. And though her brother may have been destined to become a king, at the age of twenty-one this Isabel became a queen before him! 

 

Ever mindful of cementing the House of Bruce into the royalty of Scotland and her allies, Robert Bruce, lord of Annandale, arranged a marriage for his eldest daughter to the king of Norway.  In 1293, Isabel traveled with her father to Bergen where she wed to King Eric Magnússon II of Norway in true royal fashion.

 

The last surviving son of King Magnús the Lawmender, Erik was given the title of king at age five by his father.  Magnús had intended for his son to co-rule with him, but before this could be arranged King Magnús died. Erick was then crowned sole ruler in the summer of 1280.  A year later, at age thirteen he married twenty-year-old Princess Margaret of Scotland, daughter of King Alexander III.  Tragically, Margaret died two years later giving birth to a daughter also named Margaret, who would go down in history as the Maid of Norway.  After Alexander’s death—leaving no male to follow him— this small child, not even eight-years-old, soon grew to be the center of unparalleled political maneuvering, since she now was the true heir to the Scottish throne.

 

In 1286, she became the child Queen of the Scots, though she had never set foot in Scotland and was never inaugurated.  And just as quickly, she was betrothed to Edward I’s son.  Longshanks wanted her wed immediately to Edward of Caernarvon, for in his vision his son would then rule Scotland as king through her.  The Guardians of Scotland resisted this plan, and after much choreography and negotiating, the nobles set out to collect the wee lass to bring her home—and under their control before Edward decided to fetch her himself.  Edward wasn’t above executing such a power play, and they knew if that occurred the English monarch would never set her free.  Alas, a storm blew her ship off course, and they were forced to land at St. Margaret’s Hope, South Ronaldsay on Orkney.  Odd bit of fate.  The village was named after St. Margaret of Scotland, the wife of King Malcolm III.  We hope the saint took pity on the small child who bore her name, for she died shortly after making it to shore. 

 

The incident sparked one of the biggest legal battles in Scottish History —The Great Cause.  Seventeen claimants vied to be the next king of Scotland.  Isabel’s grandfather—Robert Bruce, 5^th lord of Annandale—was a leading contender.  Even the man who would soon be her husband within a year, as King Erik of Norway had tossed his name into the hat, so the speak, claiming he held the right to rule through his deceased daughter.

 

Monument to the rules of Norway, including a listing for King Erik, his wife, Princess Margaret of Scotland, and their daughter, Margaret, Maid of Norway- Bergenhus Fortress, Bergen, Norway.

Isabel had arrived in Norway, a well-propertied woman and bringing riches to her marriage, bespeaking she was a woman worthy to be a queen.  Her dowry and trousseau were recorded at the time by Weyland de Striklaw, an English nobleman employed by the king.  Striklaw noted the delivery of the goods for Isabel’s trousseau: precious clothes and furs, 2 golden boiler, 24 silver plate, 4 silver salt cellars and 12 two-handled scyphus (soup bowls) for her new household.  The marriage seemed to agree with her, and she developed a deep love for her new country and the church at Bergen.  Almost four years later her daughter Ingebjørg Eriksdottir was born.  However, the marriage ended abruptly when Eric died 15^th of July 1299.

 

Bergenhas Fortress, Bergen, Norway

Widowed at the age twenty-six, Isabel could have returned home to the Bruces, yet she stayed in Norway, and in spite of the insecurities that came with widowhood, Isabel was in no hurry to remarry.  There were some motions of a marriage in 1300. Not for Isabel, but her infant daughter.  Though Ingebjørg was only three- years-old, Isabel moved ahead with the plan to marry her child to Jón Magnússon, earl of Orkney and Caithness, the betrothal recorded in the Icelandic Annals.  Magnússon, by nature of each earldom, was a subject of both Scotland and Norway. Most believe this was a desperate attempt on Isabel’s part to find a protector for her daughter, and one aligned to the Bruce’s cause and able to affect influence in Norway as well.  Nevertheless, the wedding never took place as Magnússon died soon after the contract was recorded. Perhaps her fears soon proved unfounded for there were no further attempts to find a protector for either herself or her child.  Instead, Isabel settled into life as queen dowager.

 

As a queen consort scant information remains on Isabel’s life.  On the other hand, as queen dowager her days are better chronicled.  Queen Isabel participated in many official events and ceremonies, and clearly did not lack sway.   Her presence was recorded with the new king—King Haakon (Erik’s brother)—and his wife on many court occasions.  It was documented she was with the royal couple at the inauguration in 1305 of Bishop Arne Sigurdssön, the new bishop of Bergen.  Though her husband has been slanderously nicknamed “priest hater”, Isabel had a good relationship with the clerical powers in Bergen.  She made large donations in 1324 to the local church, and in return she received several houses from the bishop to provide an income for the rest of her life, leaving her independent in a time women rarely had this sort of freedom.

 

In 1301 a woman arrived at Bergen on a ship from Lübeck, Germany.  Quite bizarrely, she claimed to be the dead Margaret all grown up.  She accused several people of treason for trying to hide the real queen of the Scots.  Her story detailed that she hadn’t died on Orkney, but had been sold into slavery by Tore Haakonsson's wife (also named Ingebjørg), and then sent to Germany where she had married.  The people of Bergen and even some of the clergy vigorously took up her cause, in spite of the fact that the late King Erik had identified his dead daughter's body.  Even more damning—the woman appeared to be about forty-years-old, whereas the real Margaret would have been seventeen had she lived.  After a much followed trial, she was burned at the stake for treason at Nordnes in Bergen in 1301, and her husband was beheaded.   Whether Isabel attended any of the trial isn’t recorded, thought I’m sure she was aware of the proceedings.

Isabel’s quiet power likely helped the rise of Weyland de Striklaw—who we already met when the goods for Isabel’s trousseau were unloaded.  After Jón Magnússon’s death left the marriage for her daughter moot, Isabel’s patronage may have been the reason for his rising prominence—and possibly to her benefit.  Striklaw somehow managed to become guardian for the earl’s successor, and gained control of the administration of Orkney and later Caithness.  Little direct evidence can be found for Isabel being responsible with the man’s rise from exiled Englishman to one who controlled two earldoms.  Still, that command over Orkney and Caithness—earlships she had intended for her daughter—could be taken as an indication of Isabel’s discreet political activity after her husband’s death.

There is intimation that she was a mediator in the negotiations between Norway and Scotland, regarding the dispute of ownership of Orkney and Shetland when in 1312 the Treaty of Perth was reaffirmed.  Another is the occasion of her apply to King Haakon for a pardon of a prisoner 1339.

During her sister Christian’s imprisonment by Edward I, the two sisters exchanged letters.  Isabel even sent clothing and other needs to help ease the situation.  Helping her family didn’t stop there.  She sent a large number solders and knights from Caithness, Orkney and Norway to fight for her brother Robert.

Isabel, once again, took a strong hand in arranging a marriage for her daughter.  At this point the tales of two Isabels turns into a tale of two Ingebjørgs.  Isabel’s daughter named Ingebjørg, and her niece also named Ingebjørg, were married to the younger sons of Erik, Duke of Södermanland.  Isabel’s daughter married Valdemar, Duke of Finland, Uppland, and Öland.  Isabel was likely proud of the marriage, but that pride was dashed before too long, leaving her daughter a young window, just as she had been.  The two Swedish princes had long been mistrusted by their elder brother, King Birger, and eventually, in 1317 he had them both arrested at a banquet at Nyköping Castle.  They were held in a dungeon and no one was allowed to see them. Sometime after January 1318, tides of their demise spread throughout the country—rumors fearing they had been starved to death.  Their widows, the Duchesses Ingebjørg, were not meek in their acceptance of the deaths, instead became the leaders of their husbands’ supporters.  Eventually, later that year, they were able to force King Birger into exile, and crowned Magnús, the son of Ingebjørg Håkonsdatter, as king of Sweden.  Then, he succeeded his grandfather, Håkon V, as king of Norway in 1319.  The regency was held by Magnús’ mother and grandmother, and Ingebjørg Eiriksdatter also held a seat on the regency council.

In 1357, Ingebjørg died, naming her mother as one of her heirs, increasing Isabel’s wealth.  Isabel still did not return to Scotland.  There is not a single instance recorded of her returning to her family in the country where she was born.  Instead, she lived in Bergen the remainder of her life.  On 13 April 1358 and at the age of 86, she died in Bergen, Hordaland, Norway.  Isabel finally returned to the soil of her birth, being buried in Paisley, Renfrewshire, Scotland.

 

Above: the first folio from an Old French version of William of Tyre’s  “Historia rerum in partibus transmarinis gestarum”, which belonged to Isabel Bruce, and the ex libris announcing her ownership is in red ink across the top of the page.

In summarizing, these two daughters of Marjorie Carrick may have shared a name, one common to the family, but they and their lives couldn’t have been more different, each carving out a special niche in history. 

Next month, I will finish up with the remaining Bruce sisters—

Mary, Margaret and Maud.

Then in October I will turn my attention to
the Daughters of Bruce...
first up will be Marjorie Bruce Stewart,
 the daughter of a king and the mother of a king

Deborah writes a Scottish Medieval Historical series the Dragons of Challon
and Contemporary  Paranormal Romance series the Sister of Colford Hall.

Medieval Scotland -- One Big Family Fight

 Sort of weird. One big family fight.

ruins of Dunphail Castle

Alexander Comyn of Dunphail (my great uncle 22nd generations back) was killed in the siege of Dunphail Castle in 1330. All six of his sons died in the siege with him. Alexander was the son of John "The Red" Comyn, earl of Badenoch, Justiciar of Galloway--the grandfather of Red Comyn, the man Robert Bruce murdered in 1306, just before crowning himself king.

Alexander was killed by Sir Thomas Randolph, 1st earl of Moray (son of Isabel Kilconquhar, half-sister to Robert the Bruce). Randolph was Regent of Scotland at that period, and I proudly get to say he was my 21st Great grandfather.

Randolph beheaded five men and flung their heads over Dunphail castle's walls with a rather vicious taunt, which I shan't repeat since it's post supper time. Very well, you twisted my arm. Randolph called out: "There be beef for yer bannocks!" The men had been raiding on Darnaway Castle lands. Not surprising since Robert the Bruce, Sir James Douglas and the earl Moray had been giving Clan Comyn fire and hell for decades. The pressing started in 1308, which became known as the Harrying of Buchan, or the Herschip of Buchan. Vast lands under Comyn control was burned to the ground by the hand of Robert or his brother, Edward, and continued by for decades by Randolph and Douglas.

Darnaway Castle

Darnaway Castle was built by Randolph--on Comyn land (part of Bruce scorched earth policy to break the spine of Clan Comyn), which King Robert had given to Randolph. I am sure Randolph built the castle to keep an eye on the comings and goings of the Comyns--one of the most powerful clans in Scotland, and chief rival against the Bruces for the crown of scotland the Bruces. Keep in mind, Comyns and Bruces were also cousins!

Back in the 1880s, an excavation of Dunphail Castle (now ruins) uncovered five headless bodies buried in one grave. One was Alistair, Alexander's son (falsely identified as Alistair Cummings)--we know since he was leading the raid onto Darnaway land--so I just have to wonder if the four were his brothers (my first cousins 21 times removed). Only a vaulted basement and a partial wall remains of the castle. It is said to be haunted by the moans of five ghosts (not sure how they know it is five...lol) and the sounds of a battle.

vaulted basement of Dunphail castle

A Tale of Two Women and One Castle – The Ladies of Dunbar - Part Two

 

In Part 1 of my stories about the Two Ladies of Dunbar, I covered the valiant Marjorie Comyn, countess of Dunbar and March.  She married into the ancient Dunbar family, and yet she held her castle against the king of England in a time of war.  Instead of that deed striking a heroic chord in history, earning her immortality, her fate has been largely, frustratingly buried.  Her defiance is little noted today.  No poems about her, few people ever recall her life, or her heroic audacity.

Castle Dunbar

Forty decades later, another woman traveled that same path.  Agnes Randolph married into the Dunbar family—in fact, she married Marjorie’s son Cospatrick.  By the time they wed, he was using Patrick as his given name.  He was about eleven-years-old when his mother defended Dunbar Castle.  Since young men of the nobility became squires around that age, I might assume he was riding at his father’s side, with the English king Edward I, and watched as his mother took a stance for the Scottish side.  His young age is why his name isn’t on the Ragman Roll.  Some mistakenly assert he assumed the titles to the earldoms in 1297, the year after his mother vanished from history.  However, correspondence to and from king Edward during that time remark upon Patrick’s father’s and his loyalty to the crown, referencing the elder Dunbar as still in possession of the titles and keeping his oath to the English monarch.  Edward won a crushing battle at Falkirk that autumn—with both Dunbars riding with him—yet it failed to bring him the control of the country he long craved.  The castle of Dunbar—the name meaning fort of the point— was built on a huge promontory, which projected out into the sea.  The ancient stronghold of the earls of March was of key strategic importance, due to its location being near to the major commercial seaport of Berwick.  The fortress overlooked the coastal town of Dunbar, in East Lothian, and afforded defenders the view of most of southwest Scotland.  Thus, Castle Dunbar was vital to Edward’s plans to defeating the Scots, once and for all.

Caerlaverock Castle, Dumfries

The center of the Scottish resistance was Caerlaverock Castle, near Dumfries. The Comyns were still giving the English soldiery, garrisoned throughout the countryside, hell and fury.  And the supposed highly defensible Caerlaverock was their base for the struggle.  From there, they could launch surprise attacks, fighting in the Highland way of guerilla warfare—strike and then vanish into the mists.  Their familiarity of the countryside, and the English troops' lack of it, gave them a distinct advantage.  And the tactics proved to be a festering thorn in Edward’s side.  To that aim, he fixed on denying the Scots this base of operations.  Edward and his army advanced through Annandale—lands of the Bruces—stopping off at the royal Pele Tower of Lochmaben.  The full splendor of Longshanks' army bore down upon the beautiful moated castle, and with banners flying high, he laid siege. Once again, riding at his side was Cospatrick of Dunbar and his son Patrick.   You can read about the siege in the Song of Caerlaverock, an overly flowery poem that is mostly PR for the English view of what happened.  Even so, it is valuable to historians as it notes the names of the many knights and lords who were there.

 There were many rich caparisons embroidered on silks and satins; many a beautiful pennon fixed to a lance; and many a banner displayed. And afar off was the noise heard of the neighing of horses: mountains and valleys were everywhere covered with sumpter horses and wagons with provisions, and sacks of tents and pavilions. And the days were long and fine. 

Touches, chevalier of worship, carried gules with yellow martlets. Banner gules, a lion argent, there the Earl of Lennox flew, and upon a silver border roses of the field’s same hue; Patrick of Dunbar, his son, bore likewise with a label blue. 

The anonymous poet made the whole affair sound so gay, and what a valiant effort it was on the English’s part to invest the castle.  In truth, the fortress was hardly a match for the English forces, so soon both Patrick and his father were back to their own business.  By December, 1300, Patrick, now in his twenties, was named in an English Royal Administration paper, indicating he received regular payments for assisting King Edward in controlling the Scots in East Lothian.

Sometime after that point, he married his first wife, Ermengarde Soulis.  Little is known of Ermengarde, other than she was a few years younger than Patrick, and likely a cousin, the daughter of Sir William de Soulis (one of the claimants to the throne of Scotland in 1296) and Ermengarde de Duward.  She gave birth to a son Patrick—yes, yet another Patrick—sometime around 1304, for it was recorded that she received a shipment of a cask of wine from Edward Longshanks, and it was noted she was pregnant at the time. There was another son, John, born less than two years later.  After that, nothing else is heard about her.  No reference to her death.  No place of burial, though one would assume at Dunbar Castle, which is now in ruins.  One might infer she died in childbirth, or shortly thereafter, as the date would indicate that.

In 1305, Patrick petitioned King Edward for his father's lands at Polwarth, Berwickshire to be settled upon him, but this was declined.  Against the backdrop of February 1306, Robert Bruce called for a meeting with John “Red” Comyn.  Both had been Guardians of Scotland.  Both held no love loss for the other.  And both wanted to be king of the Scots.  Instead of coming to an agreement, Bruce killed Comyn, and a month later then declared himself king.  Early 1307, Edward was making plans, once more, to invade Scotland.  He commanded, Patrick, along with his aging father (now sixty-five), were to preserve the peace in Scotland and to obey the earl of Richmond in this aim.  The denial of his petition in 1305 had little consequences or impact to Patrick.  Edward I died in July of 1307.  Less than a year later saw Cospatrick die, so his heir Patrick assumed the earldoms of Dunbar and March. 

Bruce's killing of Red Comyn

In 1313, Patrick was sent to England with a petition for the new king—Edward II.  The communication was from people of Scotland, laying out their suffering at the hands of Edward Bruce.  Robert’s younger brother had a bone to pick with the Comyns and Dunbars and seemed to take great pleasure in the confiscating coin, crops and horses from his enemy.  Patrick’s own lands and those of his vassals were vulnerable to raids of both Bruces, as well as by attacks by the English garrisons at Berwick and Roxburgh.  I surmise, in order to protect his honours, Patrick did his best to keep both sides in reasonable humor with him.  When the Battle of Bannockburn in 1313 was a route for the Scots, Patrick provided shelter and assistance to the fleeing English king. 

Edward II

No sooner than Edward II was safely across the English border, Patrick switched sides, aligning himself with Robert the Bruce in spectacular fashion.  He took part in the Scottish siege at Berwick, as one of Bruce’s commanders.  He helped Bruce gain control of the town on the 28^th of Mar 1318, and the castle by the 20^th July of the same year.  Bruce must have been pleased with Patrick’s tireless efforts for he received a grant of lands from King Robert covering the ones Patrick had been forced to forfeit in England due to the war.

He also received a new wife.  And no miss to fade into the annals of history.  His second wife was Agnes, daughter of Bruce’s nephew, Thomas Randolph, 1st earl of Moray.  Their royal lineage goes back to Gospatrick of Dunbar, Somerland, King Duncan I and Pictish kings, and through his mother's side he was 8th great-grandson of Henry I, king of France.  Though doubt has been cast by some historians about her father being Robert the Bruce's nephew it is easily proven.  Bruce's older half-sister, Isabel du Kilconquhar was the mother of Thomas Randolph.  Documents from the reign of David II of Scotland (Bruce's son) makes hundreds of references to John Randolph being his cognatus/consanguineus (kinsman/male cousin)-- a cousin of the first or second degree.

If Dunbar had been vital to the English’s ability to strike into the heart of Scotland, it was doubly as important in the Bruce’s mind.  He was fighting to subdue Clan Comyn—which meant the largest part of Scotland—and preparing should Edward II invade yet again.  The marriage between Patrick and Agnes had all the markings of a political union.  Bruce got a strong ally against his old foes the Comyns—Patrick’s relatives—and Patrick checkmated Bruce’s generals Randolph and James Douglas from raiding his lands every time they needed supplies.  The advantageous marriage seemed to seal the pact.  They were married in England, due to Scotland being under interdict.  In 1317, Pope John XXII issued the interdict because Bruce and Douglas kept raiding in England.  The papal decree prevented Scotland’s churches from celebrating all sacred rites and ceremonies, save death—which meant no marriages could be performed there.

Agnes, who was Randolph’s first born, brought to the marriage her sizable inheritance—including the lordship of Annandale (the honour belonging to Bruce’s father, but after his death had been bestowed by Bruce on his nephew Randolph).  However there were a few bumps to the marriage.  Dispensation had to be sought, and was granted for them to wed on the 18^th August 1320, the need arising because they were related closer than the fourth degree of consanguinity.  Patrick and the Bruce shared the same great grandfather—Robert de Brus, 4th lord of Annandale, which meant Agnes and Patrick were second cousins.  Later, a second dispensation was needed from the Pope dated the 16th of January 1323, when it was found their family connections complicated things further.  Agnes’ sister Isabella had married Patrick Dunbar—yes, another one!—this time Patrick Dunbar of Cockburn, Stranith and Bele, the nephew to Patrick through his brother Alexander, knight of Wester Spott.  And her sister Geilis Isobel (history keeps merging with her older sister—by ten years—who was also named Isobel—hello! they are NOT the same person!!) married John de Dunbar of Derchester & Birkynside, Earl of Fife— another Dunbar male—Patrick’s younger brother.  It seems these Randolph sisters had a thing for the  men of Dunbar.  The second decree was needed to validate any children as legitimate.  Agnes and Patrick were already married by that time, so they were permitted to remain husband and wife.  While there might be a question if Patrick was in love with his lady wife, there is no doubt he truly wanted their marriage and was willing to go to extremes to see no man put their vows asunder.  In 1328, he is named as a surety on a promise to pay Edward III of England a sum of 20,000 pounds—an ungodly amount for the times—and to submit to the jurisdiction of the papal court on the matter.  He wanted it clear any issues of the marriage would be considered by the church and king as true heirs to their vast joint holdings.

Agnes’ amazing father died in 1332 at the Battle of Musselburg. He didn't die in battle, but fell ill and died a short time later.  Randolph was on his way to repeal yet another attack by the English.  This time, it was Edward III backing the exiled Edward Balliol in his attempt to claim the Scottish crown.   The latter was the son of John Balliol—the man Edward’s grandfather made king of the Scots in 1292.  Both of them were pressing the assertion that Robert the Bruce had no true claim to the crown, that John was the last king of Scotland, and thus Edward Balliol, his son, was the real monarch.

During these years, Agnes held the important castle of Dunbar.  She was the eldest child of Randolph’s children by his wife Isabel Stuart of Bonkyll.  Agnes was a strong, opinionated female, and clearly had learned a lot from her resourceful father.  She inherited her dark looks from her handsome sire.  Often called "Black Annis" (a Scottish witch) or  “Black Agnes”, historians immediately assume she was dark-complected, calling her “swarthy”.  However, in Scottish Clans you will often see “black branch” and “red branch”, meaning the black line is the elder son, while the red branch is the younger son, so I question if the Scots calling her Black Agnes had more to do with the fact she was the eldest of Randolph’s children.  

It must have chafed a strong-willed Agnes that upon the death of her father, the title of earl of Moray went to first her younger brother, instead of her.  Thomas held the title for barely a year before dying at the Battle of Daupin.  Then, it was handed to her second brother, John.   Later on, after his demise, the title reverted to the crown, but Agnes refused to accept that and added the Countess Moray to her status.  None dared challenge her on this.  Patrick began using the title as well.  Her brother had married well to Euphemia Ross; later, after his death she remarried to King Robert II of Scotland.  After Agnes’ death, Robert II conferred the title officially to her nephew, George Dunbar (Isabella’s son) since Agnes had no legitimate heirs. (This has been questioned and disputed by historians, even to some listing George as their son).

Patrick was a good match in ambition for Agnes.  Sometime after 1331, the Bishop of Durham  complained to the Regency in Scotland that the village of Upsettlington, on the Scottish side of the River Tweed west of Norham, belonged to the See of Durham and “not the earl of Dunbar, who had seized it”.  Patrick was not only a good fighter, but proved a savvy politician.  Patrick was named as the Guardian of Scotland, and upon his father-in-law’s death, replaced Randolph as regent for Bruce’s young son, King David II.

Accounts differ about whether Agnes and Patrick had and were survived by any children.  That they didn’t seem to be confirmed since their titles and inheritances passed to the children of the marriage between Patrick's nephew and Agnes' sister. There is a claim (which doesn't square with the way the earldom of Moray actually passed to the next generation), suggesting that she did have a daughter, also called Agnes of Dunbar.  In the years following, the other Agnes became the mistress of David II, and preparations undertaken showed she was his intended wife when he died in 1371.  Since Patrick was away so much, Agnes could have had a child by another man, or possibly she was fostering the daughter of her sister, in Scottish tradition.  (One assertion is that Agnes was Patrick’s daughter by his first wife—but even a small amount of research invalidates that claim as the birth of this Agnes was after Patrick married Randolph’s daughter).

Edward III of England

If Edward III had given up on his schemes to place Edward Balliol on the throne of Scotland, Agnes Randolph’s name would likely have faded from history, just as her mother-in-law’s did.  Only, Longshanks’ grandson had a bee in his bonnet and was unwilling to give up on the crackedbrain plan.  Patrick opposed Balliol in several battles and skirmishes, following the Battle of Dupplin Moor.  Thus, it appeared that his marriage to Agnes kept him firmly anchored to the Scots’ side.  In January of 1333, he was appointed governor of Berwick Castle.  His tenure in that position was short lived, as the English forces compelled his surrender of the castle following the Battle of Halidon Hill in July.

To escape prison, Patrick bent knee to the two Edwards, and was back on the English side.  His presence is noted at the Scottish parliament Edward Balliol held, in the role of the new king.  No mention of Agnes being with her husband was noted, so we may assume she was still at Dunbar and in charge of the fortress.  Balliol gave over the castles Berwick, Dunbar, Roxburgh, and Edinburgh to Edward III as payment for his help.  Likely a furious Agnes was forced to watch her husband destroy much of Dunbar Castle’s fortifications as part of the agreement, rendering it useless to the Scottish forces.  No sooner than the dismantling was accomplished, Edward III contrarily changed his mind and demand Patrick rebuild and refit Dunbar—and pay for all the refortifications out of his own pocket.  The castle wouldn’t be battle ready again until late 1337.  A change in decision, which would soon come to haunt Edward III.

Edward Balliol, King Edward of Scotland (for a time)

At this stage, I am losing track of the ping pong game of Patrick’s changing alliances.  I’m sure Agnes was, too.  He had given oath to the two Edwards, in spite, he was still working for the Scottish crown.  In 1335, when the King and Baliol made an attack upon the Scots, the Earl Patrick cut off a body of English archers on their return southward.  Afterwards, he assisted John Randolph, 3rd earl of Moray (his wife’s younger brother) and Sir Alexander Ramsay in defeating the Count Namur at the Battle of Boroughmuir.  After Namur’s surrender, John guaranteed the man’s safety and escorted him back to the English—after all, the count was the cousin of the Queen of England.   On the way, John fell into an ambush and was taken prisoner.   Patrick and Ramsay barely escaped with their lives.

On 13^th January 1338, when Patrick Dunbar was away, the English, under William Montague, 1st earl of Salisbury, laid siege to Dunbar Castle.  They made the mistake of assuming it would be an easy task since Lady Dunbar was in residence with only her servants and a few guards. However, Agnes was determined not to surrender the fortress, even though facing the English’s vastly superior force of 20,000 men.  Salisbury must have been flabbergasted as Agnes tossed down her firm No! from the rampart and answered the demand:

Coat of Arms for Earl Salisbury

"Of Scotland's King I haud my house, I pay him meat and fee, And I will keep my gude auld house, while my house will keep me."

Don’t you think Agnes was just a tad upset?  They had just finished rebuilding the castle on Edward III’s command, and he turned around and decided to lay siege to it?  Clearly, Agnes was not about to hand it over to Edward’s lackey, just to appease the king’s current whim.  Enough was enough!  It appears she was caught unawares by the attack.  The castle guard had been thinned, the Dunbar men off fighting with her husband, and since it was midwinter, supplies were running low.  Agnes was not prepared to withstand a long siege, but withstand she did. 

When she refused to surrender the castle, and the opening attacks were repelled, the Earl Salisbury called forth siege engines, mangonels.  He attempted to take the fortress by catapulting huge boulders and lead shot against the ramparts.  Agnes met their efforts with disdain.  When the English would finally break from hurling stones for the day, she’d parade her ladies-in-waiting along the ramparts and they would “dust” the castle wall with white kerchiefs. After a couple weeks of this nonsense, the earl built a movable siege tower, called a sow, meant to allow men to use a battering ram under a shelter, protecting them from archers raining arrows down on them, or the defenders pouring boiling pitch or oil on them.  Unflappable, Agnes called out that Salisbury better take care of his sow or she would soon be catching “little English pigs” in her bailey.

When the earl didn’t hesitate in launching the machine, Agnes had boulders—the very ones the English had been flinging into the castle—dropped over the ramparts from a crane and onto the sow, crushing it.  She, naturally, shouted thanks to Salisbury for the ammunition he had supplied Dunbar.  As the survivors scurried back to the English line, Agnes launched another taunt with her indelicate wit: 

“…behold the litter of English pigs scurrying!”  

a Sow

Her joyful defiance seemed to infect the meager number of guards.  One Dunbar archer drew down on Salisbury, but deliberately hit the man next to him, and then yelled:

 "There comes one of my lady's tire pins; Agnes' love shafts go straight to the heart."

Obviously, all the work Patrick had done over the past three years to refortify Dunbar was well worth the coin it cost.  It was impossible for the English to invest the castle.  Unable to make any progress with the attacks, Salisbury switched to guile.  He bribed a Scotsman, who guarded the portcullis at the front of the castle.  Salisbury extracted a promise to leave the gate unsecure, so his troops could descend upon the mighty gate and force their way inside the bailey before alarm could be raised.  The earl must have smirked when the man accepted the bribe, and a short time later the portcullis creaked open.  In true careless fashion, the English troops charged the gate, with Salisbury in the lead.  One of his eager soldiery dashed past him and through the entry first.  Shock filled them when the portcullis came crashing down, trapping the eager Englishman on the Scottish side.  Salisbury just missed being captured by Agnes!  The gatekeep had accepted the bribe, but had run straight to Agnes with the tale of what Salisbury wanted him to do.  She had turned the tables and laid a trap for the haughty earl.  Sadly, she missed taking him prisoner, but she couldn’t resist another of her stinging barbs:

 "Farewell, Montague, I intended that you should have supped with us, and assist us in defending the Castle against the English."

Weeks dragged by, then months, and with Agnes getting the best of him at every turn, Salisbury’s patience was wearing thin.  He had John Randolph, earl of Moray (Agnes’ youngest brother, and prisoner to the English since his capture) dragged before the castle walls, with a rope around his neck.   Anges and John corresponded regularly during his imprisonment in a series of places--Bamburgh Castle, thence by York and Nottingham to Windsor, and from there was removed to Winchester, and finally to the Tower in irons.  Thus Salisbury assumed she would give into a threat to his life.  The earl called out that unless she surrendered he would hang John before her very eyes.  If he thought to crush Agnes’ spirit, he little understood Randolph’s daughter.  She merely laughed and told him to go ahead and hang John, that he would be making her the new countess of Moray—a title that should have been hers in the first place.  (Evidentially, the threat to kill John was nothing more than a bribe to get her to surrender.  John wasn’t harmed, and later was released, only to die in six years at in the Battle of Neville Cross. (**In a side note, an odd quirk of fate saw John being exchanged for Salisbury in a prisoner trade.  In 1341 Salisbury had  been taken prisoner by the French, and they agreed to trade the earl for John Randolph. After the exchange the French released Moray, and he came straight back to Scotland to raise more hell.)

Winter passed, then spring, and summer was upon them.  Salisbury knew the castle had to be rationing food and water.  So, he turned his attention to the longer means of winning a siege—a blockade to starve the castle out.  He cut off all roads, paid Genoese galleys to block the defenders from receiving support from the sea, and stopping any communication with the outside world.  Only Sir Alexander of Dalhousie (my 26th great-grandfather)—who had earned a reputation for being a constant thorn in the English king's side—got wind of Agnes’ predicament.  He left Edinburgh, and with forty men, moved swiftly up the coast.  Ramsay and his small company approached the castle in the cover of night, and entered through the postern gate from the sea.  He brought fresh troops, ready and eager to fight, and food for the people of Dunbar.  Salisbury, expecting a weakened guard, launched another frontal assault on the castle.  However, Ramsay rushed out with his hardened troops, and pushed the startled Englishmen back all the way to their encampment.

Agnes had held Dunbar for nearly five months.  With Salisbury becoming a laughing stock and no closer to forcing her surrender, on the 10th of June 1338, he threw up his hands and lifted the siege.  The triumph of Agnes over the earl and 20,000 English men lives on in a poem by Sir Walter Scott, which put a rhyme in the earl’s mouth…

 

She kept a stir in tower and trench
That brawling, boisterous Scottish wench;
Came I early, came I late,
I found Agnes at the gate

 

The failed siege of Dunbar had cost the English crown nearly 6,000 British pounds and gained nothing from it but mockery.  It seemed Edward III was no more successful in subduing Scotland than his father and grandfather had been.  But Agnes, the heroine of the Scots, had earned immortality in history with her valiant defiance.

Agnes died in 1368 and was buried at Mordington, at a church established and patronized by the family.  Patrick died a few months later in Crete, on route to the Holy Land.  Perhaps he did love his Agnes and was making the pilgrimage after losing her.  Before leaving Scotland he had arranged the security of the vast Moray and Dunbar estates. As his sons by his first marriage preceded him in death, Agnes nephew (Patrick’s grandnephew), George Dunbar, received Dunbar & March, Man and Annandale.   John, the younger brother, was eventually confirmed earl of Moray.

Mordington Church

In a time of war, when Scotland was fighting for its life, Agnes gave the Scots hope.  She kept over 20,000 soldiers and siege engines tied up for over five months.  She saved her husband and her family from having to face that massive army.  No telling how many lives she saved, and quite possible saved the country from having to yield to English rule.

George Dunbar must have inherited the traits of the Randolph family, because he rose to become one of the most powerful men in Scotland.  But no one wrote sagas and poems about him.  They even wrote a song about her.

Black Agnes O'Dunbar 

The Tales of Two Women and One Castle - The Ladies of Dunbar PART ONE

Deborah writes in the period of Robert the Bruce in her Dragons of Challon series