Latest / The Story of Scotland: Clans, Crowns, and the Fight for Identity — Fexingo History / The Declaration of Arbroath Revisited: Its True Authors and Aftermath
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked about the Declaration of Arbroath a few times now — the letter the Scottish nobles sent to the pope in 1320. But every time we've touched it, we've kind of skimmed the surface. I thought today we'd actually dig into who wrote it, and what happened to it after it left Scotland. Luna: Because the famous part is the line about freedom, right? Lucas: Exactly. 'For as long as but a hundred of us remain alive, never will we on any conditions be brought under English rule.' That's the bit that gets quoted. But the document itself is a lot more complicated — and the story around it is full of legal maneuvering, papal politics, and even a bit of a mystery about who actually put pen to parchment. Lucas: Most scholars now agree the main author was Bernard of Lamey, who was the Abbot of Arbroath and the Chancellor of Scotland under Robert the Bruce. He was a trained lawyer and a cleric, and he had a direct line to the Bruce. But there's debate about how much of the rhetoric was his own and how much was orchestrated by the king and his council. Luna: So the abbot was the ghostwriter, but the message was Bruce's? Lucas: Probably more collaborative than that. The declaration is signed by eight earls and about forty barons, but they didn't all sit in a room and draft it. It reads like a carefully constructed legal argument, drawing on earlier Scottish documents and papal letters. Some historians point to similarities with the 1309 Declaration of the Clergy, and even with the language of previous popes writing to Scottish kings. So Bernard may have borrowed from a tradition of papal correspondence. Lucas: And the situation in 1320 was delicate. Bruce had won at Bannockburn in 1314, but the pope hadn't recognized him as king. In fact, the papacy was still officially supporting the English claim, and there were efforts to broker a truce that would have forced Bruce to swear fealty to Edward II. The declaration was a direct pushback against that. Luna: And it worked? Lucas: Not immediately. Pope John XXII was not impressed at first. He had already excommunicated Bruce and his bishops. But the declaration, along with other diplomatic moves and military pressure, eventually led to the Treaty of Edinburgh-Northampton in 1328, where England recognized Scotland's independence. And then, a year later, the pope finally lifted the excommunication and acknowledged Bruce as king. Lucas: But here's a detail a lot of people miss: the declaration wasn't just a letter to the pope. It also included a separate, shorter letter from Bruce himself, and another from the clergy. And the main document had six seals attached, representing the nobility. The phrase 'we' in the declaration is not the king — it's the barons speaking to the pope, saying they support Bruce because he defends their freedom. Luna: So the 'we' is the nobles, not the king? That's a key distinction. Lucas: Yes. And it's a bit of a double-edged sword. On one hand, it shows a united front. But it also implies that if the king ever failed to defend their freedom, they might not support him. Some historians have called it a contract between the king and the people, almost a proto-constitutional document. Lucas: Now, about the authorship. Bernard of Lamey was definitely involved, but there's a theory that he may have been aided by a notary or a scribe with a classical education. The rhetoric is very Ciceronian in places, which suggests someone who had studied Roman rhetoric. And we know Bernard had studied law, probably in Bologna or Paris. Luna: So he was a well-educated fixer, basically. Lucas: He was. And he had a personal stake — he was abbot of Arbroath, which was a wealthy and important abbey. But he was also a loyal servant to Bruce. He had been with him through the difficult years after the murder of John Comyn in 1306, and he helped finance the war effort. So he was both an idealist and a pragmatist. Lucas: The declaration's survival is also a bit of a miracle. It was sent to the papal court in Avignon, and it sat in the papal archives for centuries. In the 17th century, a Scottish historian named Robert Sibbald found a copy and brought it back to Scotland. The original, or what we think is the original, is now in the National Archives of Scotland in Edinburgh. But it's missing the seals — they were cut off at some point, probably because they were made of precious metal. Luna: Oh, so the actual document we have today is not exactly what the pope received? Lucas: It's a contemporary copy, likely made at Arbroath before it was sent. The version we have has the seals' cords but not the seals themselves. And there's still debate about whether it's the original or a copy. Some argue that the original was too valuable to send, so they sent a copy, but that doesn't make sense because you'd want the original to have the seals for authenticity. Lucas: There's also a fascinating bit about the language. It's in Latin, of course, and it's written in a formal, legalistic style. But the famous 'freedom' passage is actually a translation — the Latin phrase is 'libertas' and it's used in a very specific sense. It's not about individual liberty; it's about the freedom of the kingdom from external domination. That's a subtle but important distinction. Luna: And that's why it's often compared to the American Declaration of Independence, but they're not really the same thing. Lucas: Right. The American one was about the rights of individuals and a new government. The Scottish one was about the legitimacy of an existing dynasty and the nation's right to self-rule. But the influence is there — Jefferson and others were aware of the Scottish document, and some historians see echoes of it in the phrasing about 'a decent respect to the opinions of mankind'. Lucas: In modern times, the declaration has been used in political debates, especially around the 2014 independence referendum. Both sides quoted it. And in 2018, the UK Supreme Court cited it in a ruling about whether the Scottish Parliament could legislate on matters related to the Brexit withdrawal agreement. So it's not just a historical artifact; it's a living document. Luna: It's amazing how a piece of parchment from seven hundred years ago can still carry so much weight. Lucas: And that's part of why we do this show — to understand the roots of things that still shape the present. And speaking of support, we've been able to keep this podcast free of ads because of listeners like you. If you want to help us keep doing deep dives like this, you can support us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a simple way to say thanks and keep the conversations going. Luna: Yeah, and it really does help us cover more ground — there's always another story to tell. Lucas: So, to wrap up, the Declaration of Arbroath is not just a piece of rhetoric. It's a carefully crafted legal and diplomatic document, written by a man who straddled the worlds of church and state, and it has had a long and surprising afterlife. Next time we might look at the actual seal matrix that was used — there's a story there too. Luna: I'd love to hear that. But for now, I think I finally get why that one line matters so much. Lucas: It's the line that gives voice to a nation's resolve. And it's a reminder that sometimes, words can be as powerful as swords.