The Patriot (42 page)

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Authors: Nigel Tranter

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BOOK: The Patriot
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"Not our freedom, man - nor yet our independence. I do not say that we should all become Englishmen - God forbid! But a federal union. Each kingdom keeping its own rights, laws and parliaments; but united in one polity. As are the Germanic states and the Empire. It will come, I swear- and better sooner than later. Scotland is too small to stand alone, these days. And your company need fear no interference."

"Save that it would quickly become an
English
company, my lord! And
Darien an English colony. That I
swear!" Andrew realised that he was speaking hotly now, and strove to control himself; also to steer them back to the vital subject, much afraid that he had lost ground. "Parliament has made this a purely Scottish company and venture, my friends. Surely we can show that we are capable of enterprise as well as any
Englishmen, Frenchmen or Spaniards. Does Clan Campbell, famed for its enterprise and acumen, say otherwise?"

That challenge at least produced some reaction. "How much?" Campbell of Lochnell, a rich Lorn laird, demanded. "How much have you raised? And how much still to go?"

"The total required, sir, is put at £600,000, by Mr. Paterson. Much of it for the new ships. We had raised half that, in Scotland, the other half through Scots in England. Now that half has had to be returned. But Mr. Paterson has promised to raise £200,000 from his banking associates in Hamburg and the Low Countries. So we must raise a further £100,000 in Scotland."

There was a pause, men eyeing each other. Aberuchill spoke

"There was a limit of £1,000 when I subscribed. Does that still hold, in these changed circumstances, Mr. Fletcher?"

"No, my lord. The limit has been raised to £3,000. And the minimum £100."

"Then I raise my £1,000 to £2,000," their host declared.

Andrew cast him a grateful glance.

"I go to but £1,000," Lochnell said.

"I have but a few stony acres. £500 will do for me," Sir Duncan Campbell of Auchinbreck declared. There were chuckles, he being one of the richest men in the room.

"I always said that you were a faint-heart!" his younger brother exclaimed. "Put
me
down for £1,000!"

There was another pause. All eyes were apt to turn on Breadalbane. The Earl smiled tightly.

"I shall sleep on it, Mr. Fletcher," he announced.

"Excellent, my lord - how wise!" Andrew said quickly. "No doubt others will wish to do the same. Perhaps Auchinbreck may then decide to up his offer by, say, £50?"

Amidst laughter they left it there and the talk reverted to argument about possible union with England, those against much outnumbering those for, despite Breadalbane's advocacy.

Later,
in the upper bedchamber they had to share - for the modest-sized castle was full indeed - Johnnie congratulated his friend.

"You managed that passing well, Andrew," he said. "I could never have dealt with them as you did. Nor anyone else that I know. Breadalbane in especial. He is a slippery fish, that one! Think you that you have hooked him? And can land him?"

"Who knows? But I am hopeful. He is shrewd enough and will not fail to perceive the possibilities of Paterson's Tollgate of the Oceans. He will not turn down the possibility of riches lightly. Forby, he was annoyed I think, that so many failed to follow his line on this of union. He sees himself as leader. He may not wish to be superseded, in this of the company, by Aberuchill or Lochnell. Others will also subscribe, I believe. Breadalbane may well be jealous for his leadership."

"I hope so. And if
these
Campbells subscribe strongly, others may well follow. For there are scores more. We would then have cause to rejoice over this night."

"Rejoice? I wonder? Over the subscriptions, perhaps. But tonight leaves a bad taste in my mouth, nevertheless. This talk of union. I do not like it, Johnnie. It much perturbs me. If men of Breadalbane's stature can contemplate it, even advocate it, who knows what may be in store? He even said that it was bound to come. I tell you, here is a threat to our nation to make all others of little account."

"Aye, and I have heard others singing the same song who should know better . . ."

A knock at the door heralded their host. "Ah, you are not yet bedded - that is good," Aberuchill said. "Our, er, friend, is here. He chooses a strange hour to come. But then, he is a strange man! I had not thought to see him until tomorrow's eve - when most of my guests will be gone. Will you come down? I do not wish to bring him through the house . . ."

In the half-dark, they followed the Lord Justice Clerk down the twisting turnpike-stair and out across the courtyard to an outbuilding against the curtain-walling, actually a cow-byre. Therein two men waited - although the newcomers hardly noticed one of them, so extraordinary was the other. This was a massive individual, in Highland costume of great kilt, long calfskin waistcoat or sleeveless jerkin, silken shirt and bonnet sporting a single eagle's feather, broad-sword hanging from a
jewelled shoulder-belt, silver buckles and cairngorm-stones gleaming redly in the light of the stable-lantern. The redness was not all the effect of the light, however, for he appeared to be all red, red-haired, red-bearded, clad in red and green tartans. Yet, although striking enough, it was not this which held the attention so much as the man's unusual build and
p
resence. At first sight he did not seem particularly tall; but
b
ecause of his enormous width of shoulder and great barrel-chest, his height did not greatly impress. What could not fail to register was the quite phenomenal length of the silk-clad arms, which reached down actually to the knees. Yet the total effect was not grotesque nor off-putting but indeed impressive, dramatic almost, eloquent of mighty physical strength and vigour - this last emphasised by intensely blue and alert eyes, vivid even in that light.

"This is MacGregor, of whom I spoke," Aberuchill introduced. "Although he must needs sign himself Campbell! Captain of Glengyle Highland Watch . . . and other things! Rob - here is my Lord Belhaven and Stenton and Mr. Fletcher of Saltoun, seeking a word with you."

"Delighted I am to meet the gentlemen," the enormous young man said courteously - for he could not be more than in his early twenties - his soft, lilting Highland intonation matching but strangely his formidable appearance. "This is Mac-an-Leister, my friend, gentlemen." There was more than a hint of reproof in that, for the Lord Justice Clerk, who had failed to introduce the other man, a tall, thin, dark individual, much less striking of aspect and costume and a few years older.

Surprised not only at this rebuke but at the cultural manner and gentle voice of the speaker, the Lowlanders bowed, distinctly at a loss as to how to deal with these characters, even how to address them.

"Good evening," Johnnie said briefly. "It is good of you to come to meet us, sir," Andrew said. "And you, sir."
He
looked at the thin man with some interest now. "Did I hear you named Leister? I have not the Erse tongue, I fear - but I have heard that Leister means fletcher, my own name? Am I right?"

"Indeed you are, sir," the other nodded. "My name, in your
tongue, means Son of the Arrow-maker, or Fletcher. I come of the line of Achallader-now alas, Campbell!" And he glanced at Aberuchill, with a half-bow, half-grimace.

"That is extraordinary!" Andrew said. "For there is a tradition in my family that we also come of the Fletchers, or Leisters, of Achallader, some way back. My grandfather was Lord Innerpeffer, of Session. Innerpeffer is not far from here, in Strathearn, I think?"

"To be sure, sir. So we may be kin. Our house is in sad decline!" There was a sardonic twist to the thin man's lips as he said that.

"Shame on you, Mac-an-Leister!" the big man cried, but grinning. "What way is that at all to be speaking to Sassenach gentlemen?"

Aberuchill nodded, a little stiffly. "I will be leaving you to your, h'mm, discussion." And he turned to go.

"Och, he is a Campbell, just!" That came by way of explanation, with a hoot of laughter, and before the
Lord
Justice Clerk of Scotland was through the open doorway.

Andrew coughed. "How are we to address
you,
sir? Mr. MacGregor? Or Mr. Campbell? Or . . . other?"

"Neither, at all. I am not Mister anything, friend. I am a Highland gentleman, sir, and we do not go in for mistering. I am third son to the former Colonel Donald Ghlas MacGregor of Glengyle, who died for supporting his rightful monarch!
Magni nominis umbra!
You may call me Captain, if you wish. Or, if that sticks in your gullet, I have a few poor acres on the shore of Loch Katrine, so you could name me Portanellan and Inverlochlarig. But, och, most honest men just call me Rob Roy, whatever - and add MacGregor when you are after feeling courageous! Or
In lapsus memoriae!
"

Andrew shot a glance at Belhaven.
Th
is
was, in theory, his affair; but Johnnie was clearly quite content to leave the handling of this curious Latin-quoting Highlander to himself. He knew, of course — all Scotland knew - that the name of MacGregor had been prescribed by James the Sixth as unlawful to use, in wrath against that clan for their warlike activities against the Macfarlanes, the Colquhouns, the Murrays, the MacNabs and of course the Campbells; and this prescription
had been renewed by Parliament as recently as two years ago, 1693, largely at the behest of the Campbells again. So not only was it an offence to call oneself by that name but no such signature was valid in law. Therefore for all legal documents, charters and the like, the MacGregors had to use another name for signing, a source of much heart-burning for a proud folk whose favourite exclamation was 'As Royal's my Race!', referring to their descent, as Clan Alpin, from Kenneth MacAlpin, first King of the United Picts and Scots.

"Captain MacGregor will serve very well, I think," Andrew said. "Forby, it is as captain of a Highland Watch, in the main, that we wish speech with you. That, and the fact that you are, nevertheless, a Jacobite. Or so we understand sir? Or were."

"I fought for King James at Killiecrankie, yes. As did Mac-an-Leister."

"Yet you now lead a militia company of a sort, in the name of King William!"

"Why not, at all, Mr. Fletcher? The King's peace must be kept, whoever is King, must it not?"

Andrew strove to keep his face straight. From all accounts Rob Roy MacGregor's methods of keeping the King's peace were unusual, to say the least, with cattle acquisition reputedly a major part of it and penalties in kind for those who failed to co-operate.

"H'mm. An excellent sentiment, Captain MacGregor. Which confirms Lord Aberuchill's good judgment in suggesting that we should speak with you."

"Och, Colin Campbell has his glimmerings of sense, see you - for a judge!" The big man laughed again, heartily. Evidently he found much amusement in life. "And in what, at all, does he judge I am to serve you, sir?"

"It is in the matter you have already mentioned — the keeping of the King's peace. Here, in the Highlands. The King's government is concerned. It hears rumours. Of couriers from St. Germain, of French gold, of attempts to stir an uprising. How much of this is true is not known . . ."

"I am hoping, Mr. Fletcher, that you are not after coming here for to try to be making a spy out of me?" That
intervention was none the less telling, but all menacing, for being so softly, carefully spoken.

"No, no, sir - nothing like that. Our purpose is concerned with
giving
information, more than seeking it. The government naturally wishes to maintain the King's peace north of the Highland Line. Hence the Highland Watches. But it feels that more could and should be done. Not only to counter
p
ossible Jacobite movements which is, shall we say, negative, ut more positively to show the King's and his ministers' goodwill, to bring the Highlands into closer harmony with the rest of Scotland, to spread the benefits of what has been achieved in better governance, freedom from tyranny, religious bigotry and the like . . ."

"Spread King William's goodwill!" Again the quietly sibilant but tense intervention. "After Glencoe, you talk of that?"

"Glencoe was evil, a disaster, a shame on the government. Also a grievous mistake and error of judgment. But that lesson has been learned. The men responsible brought down . . ."

"But not tried and hanged, by God! Dalrymple is still a free man, I am told. As is my uncle."

"Your uncle . . . ?"

"Glenlyon was my mother's brother - to my sorrow!"

"Save us - I did not know that!" Andrew's thoughts raced. This explained, much. Why this young man of such peculiar reputation and of an almost outlawed clan, should have been raised to the position of captaining a Highland Watch; for Campbell of Glenlyon, the man who carried out the Glencoe massacre, was first cousin to Breadalbane himself - so that this Rob Roy was also the Earl's close kin, and Breadalbane it was who had been responsible for setting up the Highland Watches. It explained also why the MacGregor signed himself Campbell. But it likewise meant that he could be the more influential in their present project - something that Aberuchill had not enlarged upon. Moreover, if he felt some guilt by association . . .?

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