The Patriot

by Nigel Tranter

  "Andrew, lad," he greeted his grandson's-in-law friend. "You get liker your good father each time I set these old eyes on you! A sore loss he was to this land. But his son, now, will make up for his untimely passing, I swear! Eh?" The voice was strong, vibrant, however feeble the body.

  "That is my hope and prayer, my lord - however lacking I feel in the abilities. Do I find your lordship well?"

  "As well as I shall ever be, I think. My time wears to its end. But I too, I hope, have heir to follow on and do the things I ought to be doing! That is, if I can wean him away from breaking horses before he breaks his own fool neck!"

  Johnnie grinned. "I have a thick and stiff neck, my lord - as you have frequently told me! And you risked yours sufficiently often - even almost on the block! But-Andrew, here, has in a manner of speaking risked his today. When he handed in his nomination-paper at Haddington. Lauderdale was there. And - displeasured!"

  "He was? That overblown toad! Save us - he comes early. Why, I wonder? It is three weeks before the opening of the new parliament. He usually spares us his company until the day before - thank God! Why? He could not possibly have got to hear? Of our plans. In London. To unseat his Stanfield?"

  "I think not, my lord," Fletcher said. "At least, he seemed much surprised at my candidature. Angry when he heard of it, yes - but surprised."

  "Yet he was there, at Haddington? On the day for the depositing of papers. Not by chance, I swear! He is ever well-informed, is John Maitland - even down in London. He has spies everywhere. He could have learned of talk that Stanfield was to be opposed. But not hear that it was yourself, Andrew. And came to put a stop to it."

  "It could be. He is well-informed, yes. In more ways than one. He surprised me by naming me Hielant scum! Not many would have said that."

  "Ah, but he would know your grandsire, old Innerpeffer, know that he came from the North, to Saltoun." Andrew, a Lowland laird with a Lowland name, and with his mother a Bruce, was not in fact so far removed from the heather. His grandfather and namesake, Sir Andrew, a shrewd lawyer, had come south from Perthshire, anglicising his name from Mac-an-Leister, the Son of the Arrow-maker, to the equivalent Fletcher. But when he had in due course mounted to the Bench as a lord of session, he had taken his title not from his new estate of Saltoun in East Lothian - the man he bought it from was already Lord Saltoun - but from his ancestral home at Innerpeffray in Strathearn, where they were a sept of Mac-Gregor. Perhaps that is where his grandson heired his quick temper and high spirit.

  "I hope that you answered him suitably?" Johnnie said. "I could think of a few things to call John Maitland!"

  "No doubt. But I . . ."

  "Easy said, here in Beil House, boy," the old lord reproved. "But to his face you might be less bold. Lauderdale may look like a horse-couper and worse, but he has all the unlimited power, more's the pity. He has the King's ear, is one of the Cabal, Lord of the Bedchamber, Lord President of the Council as well as First Commissioner of the English Treasury as well as Secretary of State for Scotland. A man dangerous to meddle with."

  "That is almost exactly what he himself said to me," Andrew told them. "He said that I would learn that it did not pay to tangle with him. And to tell you that, my lord - when he saw your signature as my sponsor. He said that we would pay for it."

  "As we may, yes," Belhaven agreed gravely. "Yet we must do what has to be done. Someone must give a lead, make a start. If our land and nation is to be saved. Lauderdale's rule has to be opposed. Scotland must be stirred to action, to be true to itself, to reject the evil policies and corruption which are rending and destroying her. Before it is too late. I am an old done man, by with it. I will do what I can - but that is little now. But you -you are both young, all before you. All depends on you and such as you. Win this election, and you will have your chance, soon. John, here, will take my place. Then . . ."

  "But, my lord - what chance have I of winning the seat?" Fletcher demanded. "Young as I am, untried, against all Lauderdale's power and influence?"

  "A fair chance, lad - a fair chance. Or I would not be bringing down Maitland's wrath on my grey head by sponsoring you! He has many enemies, that man. Even amongst his own kind he is scarcely loved. And though few will defy him to his face, many will be glad to vote secretly against his candidate. And Stanfield, although an able man, is not popular. He is English, one of Cromwell's former colonels. He has

  made a fair member and has done much for Haddington and the shire. But few there love him either. He is arrogant. Forby, there are still some honest men left in the land, who will vote for the nation's sake, not because they are bribed."

  "All my friends are for you, Andrew," Johnnie assured. "They do not all have votes, to be sure. But . . ."

  "There's the rub. There are eighty-three voters in all. How many are in Lauderdale's pocket . . .?"

  Margaret Hamilton came, with the refreshment carried by a servant, and for a little they observed the courtesies. But quickly they got down to calculations, by no means for the first time. Each of the voters, who qualified only by their land-holdings in the shire, had two votes, it being a double-seat; and nobody had been found to oppose Wedderburn, Lauderdale's other nominee in the seaward section of the county. Indeed, in opposing Stanfield, Fletcher was taking a very great risk, not only to his pocket and reputation but to his very freedom, and all knew it. Try as they would, the three men could not count on more than thirty probable votes - and some of those were doubtful. On the other hand, nor could they identify with any certainty more than a similar number of votes sure for Stanfield, who had been unopposed for the last elections. Wedderburn was in a different category, not a strong man but not unpopular, and a local laird. Not a few would vote for him who would shy at Stanfield; however, he was unopposed, so that did not signify. Which left over a score who might vote either way, depending on their religious scruples, whether they had ambitions for themselves or their adherents in the way of preferment, whether their pockets were empty, and so on. There was one advantage for Fletcher, in that Stanfield, who had done much for Haddington town itself, in establishing industry, mills, dye-houses and the like, could not look to that town for votes; for the burghs of Scotland appointed their own members to the Estates of Parliament, from amongst the burgesses. Nevertheless, shareholders of these enterprises amongst the East Lothian lairds might well vote for Stanfield as, thanks to Lauderdale's patronage, these mills and works were all exempted from taxation.

  Long they debated and assessed, considering any and all means by which the odd extra vote might be gained. Belhaven had considerable influence at this Dunbar end of the county and amongst the parish ministers who, by and large, were Covenant-minded and anti-prelacy, which would lead them to vote against the government; on the other hand, Dunbar and district had suffered so much under Cromwell, after his winning the battle there twenty-eight years earlier, that they were pretty staunchly monarchial now and might well choose to support the King's representative's nominee. Not that Fletcher and the Hamiltons were against King Charles -only against the policies of his London government, of imposing prelacy and its desire for an incorporating union of the two kingdoms. It was all complicated and difficult.

  Andrew took his leave, with a programme of visits and interviews arranged for the period before the election, for the Hamiltons and himself, to seek to persuade and cajole. Belhaven himself would make shift to go and see the Earl of Haddington, across the Tyne estuary at Tyninghame. His support could be crucial. He was a Hamilton too - but was married to the heiress of the Earl of Rothes, the Lord Chancellor, Lauderdale's colleague and crony. With him it would be a near thing.

  Riding home the fourteen miles south-westwards through the lovely East Lothian countryside, it did occur to Andrew Fletcher to ask himself why he was doing this, putting himself and his future in grave jeopardy, challenging the powers that had broken finer and wiser and more influential men than himself? Although a good Presbyterian, he was no bigoted Covenantor. He rather admired Char
les the Second - even whilst judging him to be sorely lacking in his understanding of the Scottish situation and temper, misguided by those around him. He was instinctively against Charles's brother, the Duke of York, converted to the Romish Church and fanatical about it; but so far these Popish pretensions posed no real threat to Scotland. Misgovernment and tyranny there was - but why did he feel compelled to oppose it with all his strength and fortune? His father, Sir Robert, had died young, leaving him laird, in his early teens, of a large and rich estate, an old castle and a tradition of sober well-doing. Neither father nor grandfather, Lord Innerpeffer, would have done what he was doing now, he very well knew; careful, steady men - at least in their public life - disinclined for adventures and dramatics. Not like the Hamiltons, or the Maitlands, for that matter. Yet here he was, seeking to set out on what was little less than a crusade, with the enemy all-powerful. Why? His Highland blood coming out perhaps, vehement, turbulent - like that of his far-distant kinsman, Rob Roy MacGregor? Or his mother's Bruce blood - although the Clackmannan Bruces had been a comparatively tame lot for generations. Bruce? He did not presume to speak of himself, even secretly, in the same breath as the hero-king of three centuries before. Besides, it was Wallace, not Bruce, whom he might wish to emulate — if he dared to let his mind stray that far. Bruce had fought for a throne, power, a dynasty; Wallace only for an idea, love of country, simple patriotism, with nothing to gain personally and everything to lose - as he did. Wallace, indeed yes - and God forgive him for daring to link his situation with that of the Patriot.

  When he came, with the sunset, to his house, the Abernethy castle extended with its fine 17th-century additions, set between his two villages of East and West Saltoun, such thoughts did not survive the first sight of the place in its secluded foothill valley of the Birns Water. For the wide forecourt area was full of men and horses, reminiscent of the Sidegate of Haddington. But these were uniformed men and their mounts cavalry-horses. Dragoons - and making entirely free with his premises.

  Hot temper rising, Andrew spurred in amongst them, demanding what this meant, what they wanted, how dared they off-saddle in front of his house, where was their officer?

  A youthful cornet was brought out from the house itself, to announce that his name was Dalrymple, cutting short Andrew's indignant representations with a military gesture, to declare that he and his troop were billeted on Mr. Fletcher of Saltoun until further notice, in the interests of national security. He drew a document from his open tunic to prove it. Although he did not actually read it, Andrew saw that it bore Lauderdale's peculiarly neat signature at the foot.

  John Maitland moved fast, it appeared.

  Fletcher went in search of his brother Henry.

  Andrew Fletcher gazed around the crowded Parliament Hall of Edinburgh, at something of a loss. There appeared to be no one to tell new members, or commissioners as they were called, where to go or what to do. The place seethed with people and the noise was deafening. There must be many hundreds thronging the long, narrow hall under the open-beamed roof so lofty. They could not all be commissioners. Supposedly there could only be two hundred and ninety of these -although the numbers varied from parliament to parliament owing to the different proportions of lords temporal and spiritual available. The Scots Parliament, unlike the English, sat together in one chamber, lords, commissioners of the shires and burgh representatives, the Three Estates.

  Andrew perceived, then, that quite a number of those present were dressed scarcely in a style to be expected of the occasion; indeed some seemed actually to be selling pamphlets, even snuff and tobacco. He could have brought his brother Henry, after all.

  He saw old Lord Belhaven seated alone in stalls near the right-front of the hall, and went to sit beside him.

  "I am glad that you were able to make the journey, my lord," he said. "I hope that it has not wearied you overmuch?"

  "I took it gently, lad - in two stages. Spent the night at Seton with Lord Winton. I would not have missed this parliament-it will be my last. At the next, Johnnie will sit here, in my place. But - I wanted to see you started on your road, Andrew. Your first, my last."

  Fletcher had won the Haddingtonshire seat by forty-seven votes to thirty-six, to the great excitement of the county and beyond.

  "It need not be so, my lord. You could have many more years yet. When do proceedings commence? The opening was called for noon - now long past."

  "We cannot start until the Lord High Commissioner chooses, lad. It is his prerogative - and Lauderdale likes to show who is in command! Although I have known him to start early - and then none could enter because His Grace was seated! But usually he keeps us waiting - and today he will be in particularly ill mood. For which you may have some responsibility! Ah - here is Hamilton."

  A dark handsome man of middle years, fashionably dressed in London style, came stalking up, waving a scented handkerchief before his prominent nose - admittedly the crowded hall in the summer heat smelled strongly. Men in his path tended to bow as he passed and were loftily ignored; even Belhaven rose shakily to his feet as the newcomer reached him, for this was the head of that great house which cut so wide a swathe in Scotland; although it was odd that Belhaven, himself directly descended from the first Lord Hamilton, should so pay his respects to a man who was in fact no Hamilton at all but a Douglas. William Douglas, Earl of Selkirk, had married Anne, Duchess of Hamilton in her own right, daughter of the second Duke, and had been created Duke of Hamilton for life. Such as he was, he represented the focus of opposition to Lauderdale, whom he hated, the only other duke in Scotland.

  "Ha, Belhaven - you are here," Hamilton said. "As well. I shall need every vote this day, I vow!"

  "Yes, my lord Duke. The word is that the elections have been managed, pauchled. More than usual. I fear the worst. You are well. After your long journey?" All Edinburgh rang with the story that Duke Hamilton had arrived from London only the day before, after a rushed journey, with twelve coaches and two hundred and fifty men as bodyguard.

  "It was devilish hot and tiresome." The Duke's haughty glance, ignoring Andrew Fletcher, was sweeping the crowded hall. "I see damned few friends and over-many unfriends!" he commented grimly. "Maitland is up to no good. He never is -but today he is oily. Ever a bad sign. He tried to oil me!"

  "You have seen him, then?"

  "Aye. I spent the night at Holyroodhouse - of which I am Keeper, you'll mind. He is in residence. So I made my keepership suitably evident to him. Yet he sought to have me come here in his own coach, damn him! Oily, as I say. I told him I preferred my own. But... he cooks something. I ken the smell of him."

  "He is here, then? But keeps all waiting."

  "He is ben there, drinking with Rothes - who is drunk as an owl. Argyll too. A bonny trio!" The Duke turned. "You, young man - what do you stare at? Who are you?"

  "This is my young friend, Andrew Fletcher, my lord Duke. Of Saltoun. You will mind his father, Sir Robert? Newly elected for Haddingtonshire. On my recommendation."

  "Then I trust that he will vote aright! Nevertheless his place is. . .elsewhere!" And he jerked his head for Andrew to be off.

  His quick frown very evident, that young man bowed stiffly, to withdraw, when Belhaven moved round to take his arm.

  "Heed it not, lad," he murmured. "It is but his way. Go over yonder." He pointed. "These are the lords' seats."

  Pushing his way through the throng to the other side of the hall, Andrew hotly told himself that if this was the man Scotland had to look to for leadership against Lauderdale, then God help Scotland!

  Most of the commissioners had not yet taken their seats, but amongst those who had he saw his uncle, his mother's younger brother, Sir Alexander Bruce of Broomhall, commissioner for Sanquhar and a privy councillor.

  "May I sit here, sir?" he asked, it is to be feared less than cordially. "There appears to be little direction in this place."

  "To be sure, lad. Sit by me. Good to see you. My congratulations on winning your East Lot
hian seat - although I do not know if you have been wise!" Bruce was a large, amiable man, of almost cherubic countenance.

  "I am beginning to wonder whether it is a cause for congratulation, sir," his nephew said. "To be elected to . . . this!"

  "With our King in London, boy, it is all we have left of government. We must needs make the best of it."

  "And make the best of Duke Hamilton too, I take it?" That was tart.

  The older man looked at him curiously. "Why, yes. He is none so bad, is Duke William. He has Douglas manners – but what can you expect? He is not afraid to stand up to Lauderdale, as are most. And he has King Charles's left ear, even if Lauderdale had his right! And they do say that the King's right ear is becoming just a little deaf!"

  "Indeed? Hamilton scarce chooses the best way to recruit members to his party . . . !"

  "Party, Andrew? Hamilton has no party. Hamilton is . . . Hamilton! You will learn. The sorrow that there is no party to oppose — only hatred."

  He got no further. Two drummer-boys came into the hall beating a continuous rataplan on their side-drums, the signal for members to take their seats and for the unauthorised to leave. Even when these were gone the place was crowded, with no seats for all. Bruce explained that, with all the manipulation behind this election, there was a much greater attendance than usual. Lauderdale had seen that the maximum two hundred and ninety made it - one hundred and forty six lords, fourteen bishops, sixty-five shire commissioners and sixty-five burgh representatives. Most parliaments were fortunate to have half that.