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!
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.
(Tree showing the Randolph, Bruce and
Kilconquhar Lines)
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.
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—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, 5th 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.
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 15th of July 1299.
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.
the Daughters of Bruce...
first up will be Marjorie Bruce Stewart,
the daughter of a king and the mother of a king
and Contemporary Paranormal Romance series the Sister of Colford Hall.
Another fabulous post. Every Scottish child is taught the pivotal tragedy of Margaret of Norway, and the impact on history. As far as the sharing of names is concerned, you may want to research sloinneadh - the Gaelic naming tradition. That named children after their ancestors, to a fixed pattern, but still allowed them to be individuals. The first son was named for his father's father. The second son was named for his mother's father - and so on. For girls, The first daughter was named for her mother's mother, and so on. The second daughter was named for her father's mother, etc. Shared names are still common in some parts, and double names are commonly used to differentiate individuals. This carried over to the USA as names like Ellie May and Mary Sue. My friend's father is John Donald in English, and the full name is used each time unless a byname was given. Bynames were less formal and could relate to occupation, a feature, or colouring. A good example is the famous spy, Alan Breck Stewart. Breck comes from the Gaelic Breac , meaning speckled or spotted, and was due to the fact he had pitted skin after suffering from smallpox. Bynames often became first names we now use, like Keira(n) - meaning black-haired, Rory - red-haired, or Cameron - meaning crooked nose. Each of those Isabelles would have had a byname, or double name which made them unique.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading the article! I appreciate it.
ReplyDeleteI don’t need to research since I am very familiar with it. Often using sloinneadh you are able to track ancestry when common names fail. The Irish especially, where they had 3-4 names, saw a pattern of naming after each relative in means of importance. Father's father, mother's father, father's brother, mother's brother etc. So while all four names may have been common, the combination of the pattern enlightens you how the person fits in the family tree.
As I pointed out Isabelle Kilconquhar Bruce had the name of the second Martha attached to her either has Martha Isabelle or Isabelle Martha. It didn’t save her from the confusion. But even second names can cause confusion. Thomas Randolph 1st earl of Moray had a daughter names Isabelle Geilis (or Geilis Isabelle -- hard to tell, because he had another daughter he named Isabella). It’s not the same woman—ages and deaths are different—and you can clearly see they married different men and had different children. Isabelle Geilis married John de Dunbar of Derchester & Birkynside, earl of Fife. Isabelle married Patrick Dunbar of Cockburn, Srathnith and Bele. To further confuse the issue their sister Agnes married Patrick Dunbar, earl of Dunbar and March. That Patrick was uncle to the other Patrick and John was his brother…lol. Yet because both were Isabelles they lump them into being the same woman when it becomes clear they were not.
Yes, a huge net to untangle! Especially hard when all the same families are interconnected, and repeat names. Your eye for detail is superb. You obviously haven't fallen into the same pitfalls as others. Sorry, I should have known you'd be ahead on sloinneadh.
DeleteNo worries, it’s not a practice many are familiar with, so it super you brought it up. I am toying with a blog concerning the different problems you encounter in trying to track the past. So many interesting things—to me at least. Another problem with names—at least to Scotland, is females kept their maiden name, not taking husband’s surname until the English began forcing them to do it. And on more than a few occasions, men or sons took their mother’s surname to be able to claim clan lands of titles, thus you might spot a son with the mother’s name instead of the father, yet still the birth be legit. At various points, men took wives names to protect them from retribution from England, such after the Jacobite. Many times when they migrated to the US, they came with the assumed name, which can really confused Americans trying trace their lines.
ReplyDeleteAgain, I really appreciate you taking the time to read my humble offerings. I tend to “bore” people to tears with my love for the past. So thank you.
You are spot on. Even to this day a woman's married name is legally termed an alias, and money was a great impetus in taking the maternal line. Another quirk of law is that all children, even illegitimate ones must inherit.So that's a really handy way to trace ancestry if you can access wills.
DeleteYes, the wills can be every interesting, because you not only find the names of the heirs, but the property they leave behind. One darling military man was loading hundreds of copies of wills onto ancestry today for one branch. I think I am going to have a lot of reading to do. Bless him for sharing!
DeleteI loved the one will from my Stewart 4th GGF - He had a huge land grant from England to settle in Kentucky. He divided it evenly between his two sons and three daughters, but then left the bulk of the money between the three women. He said he knew the sons would do well on their own, but he wanted to know his daughters were properly maintained throughout their lives. The land and money was theirs only, not to go to their husbands, and when the daughters died the lands and money went back to a trust to be divided equally amongst his granddaughters.
I think many countries have naming rituals. Such as those of Viking - Norse, Friesian and Swedish. You have a different means of tracking them, and it's by first names of their fathers. Karen Nilsdotter -- was Karen daughter of Nils. Dotter - being daughter. If you had a son he was Jon Nilsson. So he was son of Nils, meaning daughters and sons didn't have the same last name. Even more complicating, Nils Olafsson would be their father, and again the last name was different because it read Nils was son of Olaf. Olaf would be Olaf Thorsson…Olaf son of Thorsson.
The only country I have come across where they changed the names never reused them were the amazing Zulu nation. I spent a summer in South Africa studying the African rose growers there. The Zulu just were such a great people and so kind. They had a different take on names. They believe if you spoke the name of the dead, you called them to come back. Thus, they would never name a son or daughter after the parents. They often even changed words because the word might be too similar sounding to the dearly department. The Zulu word for water is amanzi. But if Hamanzi was the mother's name and she died, they feared she would hear amazni and think she was being called back to the living. So they would change amanzi to Kamanzi. Of course this was only for the local village, so you can find water called Jamanzi in another village, or Damazi in yet another.
What an interesting life you have led! That sounds fascinating. Yes, that spitting up the inheritance equally is very Scottish and cultural. Scottish women were able to inherit and own property when most other women couldn't. Even though movable property became the property of their husbands, there are numerous very old court cases where they sued to get it back - and won. Also a Scot's woman's free consent to marriage was her own from the age of twelve - unlike almost all other European women. No wonder they had a spirit of independence other nationalities remarked on.
DeleteFascinating as always, Deborah!
ReplyDeletethank you
DeleteI was looking forward to this next blog post and it's really fabulous!!! SO well written, interesting and informative!!! Very clearly explained!!! I'll be anxiously waiting for your next post. Can't wait to continue reading the stories of these great women!!! :) :) :)
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ReplyDeleteWell, I end in with Bruce's sisters in September. Then in October I will start with his daughters, and we get another of two women sharing the same name. Bruce actually had two daughters with the name Margaret --one legitimate, a princess, and one his royal bastard. Another will be a Bruce daughter that historians have long tried to deny completely, and are just only now beginning to admit for hundreds of years have denied his legit daughter her heritage. And of course, poor Marjorie who spent years a captive of the English. Barely out of captivity, she died giving birth to Robert II, another king, and founded the Stewart dynasty.