I’m not sure about my brothers, but I’ve been eager with anticipation for some public acknowledgment of our vast ancestral lands which are rightfully ours, but now lived on by others in Scotland.

Alas, so far there has been silence.

Even with world leaders and climate elites gathering in Glasgow for another climate summit. One would have at least expected Justin, whom has been making a speciality of land acknowledgments, to have given a grave voiced mere mention to the Cumming clan’s ancestral lands.

It might even prompt the Scots to get with the new morality of our time. It’s certainly long overdue.

Back here in enlightened Canada, institutions are following Justin’s examples these days of land acknowledgements. Every Canadian primary and high school, college and university and anyone else being important and polite on Canadian soil, whenever two or more are gathered in the government’s name.

It has replaced, “let’s bow our heads in prayer.”

Things started to fall apart for the Cumming’s – spelled Comyn in those days – on February 10, 1306. Sir John Comyn, at 32 years of age, was stabbed to death by Robert the Bruce at the altar in Greyfriars Chapel in Dumfries.

That’s a fact. My grandparents had mentioned it. Dad, in his callous disregard for the painful past when farming in the present could have cared less, but today it’s all there on the internet, complete with a portrait of Sir John.

At that point in the early 1300s the Comyn’s were the largest landowners in Scotland, having vast holdings throughout the country. Sir John had royalty on both sides of his pedigree.

Now the reason for the stabbing isn’t definitive. Batches of people do seem to get upset at the Cumming’s through the years. According to the internet, when Robert the Bruce ran from the church, Sir Robert Fleming went back in “to finish the job.”

Both Sir John and Robert the Bruce were ‘Joint Guardians’ of Scotland, after the recent demise of Sir William Wallace, of recent movie fame, who held that post for a wee while.

Wallace was a landless soul, but had an ability to motivate folks. He probably would be paid to give Ted Talks, or be an evangelist on TV, or another Randy Hillier, if he was circulating today.

But being Wallace had no land, he deserves no mention whatsoever at world events of importance, like this climate conference.

Several years before being stabbed to death in church Sir John had fought in the first war for Scottish Independence. Today they have referendums on the topic. He was sent as a prisoner to the Tower of London, but was released on the condition that he fight the French in Flanders on behalf of the English. Which was where he was when Wallace gathered an army and fought his Scotland battles, before being publicly executed in a horrible way.

At the time of the stabbing, Sir John’s son of the same name fled down to England. He returned as a young soldier in 1314 to fight for Scotland and was killed in the Battle of Bannockburn.

If you want to know how a clan can go from royalty, living on estates that would put Downton Abbey to shame, to living down a long lane in a farmhouse on the eighth concession in a cold land, with not a servant or footman in sight, there you have it.

It’s been a damn hard thing to live with, that shame and rage at the cruelty, over the past 800 years. People say you should get over it, but having property taken after your clan chief was murdered in cold blood, for no apparent reason other than being a Cumming, leaves permanent scars.

One is at a loss on how to get Justin to notice.

Perhaps my brothers and I could set up a sod hut on Parliament Hill, with a grazing Ayrshire cow tethered to a stake, a sucking calf at her side. At least I have a kilt, complete with that wee dagger that fits into the sock.

A piper could be summoned, to play every evening and morn.

The Buchans’ are part of our clan, but it’s best if they stayed away. They tend to be hot-tempered towards Justin, when we’re vying for his sympathy.

Ian Cumming, Reprinted with permission, originally published Nov 2 in Ontario Farmer.