The Patriot (15 page)

"I see." But it was at Patrick Home that Andrew glanced, flushing.

That honest man looked unhappy. "I
...
I did not know. I was not aware. Of this . . ." He turned. "My lords, I brought Mr. Fletcher here . . ."

But the lordly ones had moved on, and they were confronted instead by a red-faced, blunt-featured, stocky individual, in rich clothing but lacking something of the manner which should accompany it.

"I am Heywood Dare, Alderman of Taunton," this man announced. "I act purse-bearer and close councillor to His Royal Highness of Monmouth. You may have heard of me. Can I put you down, sir, for some suitable sum? For the invasion fund."

"I think not," That was terse.

"Sir - you are not refusing to contribute? To this most necessary cause. It should be considered a privilege."

"No doubt. But I have other privileges to consider at the moment."

"What could be more urgent, sir? I understand that you are a man of property. In Scotland. If you have not sufficient moneys to hand at this time, I would accept a written warrant
..."

"Mr. Dare," Home intervened, aware of his companion's famed temper, "I think that you should leave the matter meantime. Mr. Fletcher is otherwise concerned at this moment. Another time, perhaps . . ."

"Sirs, another time may be too late. This most essential invasion must be mounted without delay. It is already almost a month since the Papist usurper grasped England's throne. He must be unseated before he can further secure himself. Every week will count against us. Here is no time for faintheartedness and penny-pinching. Moreover," Dare leaned closer, dropping his rather strident West Country voice. "Due and heartfelt aid
now
will most certainly merit the most tangible royal appreciation. Office preferment, a knighthood perhaps. Even a baronetcy might be considered - although that would be more expensive . . ."

"My God!" Andrew's clenched fist rose quivering before the other's florid face. "You . . . you . . . !" That temper all but choked him. "How dare you! How dare you, sir! Think to
buy
me, like some huckster! I could horsewhip you for that, do you hear? Horsewhip . . . !"

Home grasped his arm. "Andrew - come. Not now, not here — of a mercy! Let us leave . . ."

"Aye, leave indeed! This place, these people, are beyond all bearing. If I had known that this was not to be a meeting, a council, but a market, a saleroom . . . !"

"Yes, yes -
I
am sorry. I had no notion of it, Andrew. Let us be off . . ."

But escape just then was contra-indicated. There was a commotion at the principal doorway, a trumpet blew, and with all the flourish of a royal entry the Duke of Monmouth was ushered into the hall. Everywhere men turned to bow.

"Lord - we can scarcely leave now," Home said. "It would be considered an insult."

"He is not King yet!" But Andrew accepted that they must wait, meantime. However hot-tempered, he was not a discourteous man.

Argyll, Grey and the others formed themselves into a tight group round the Duke, to escort him through the assembly. He moved with dignity, slowly, with a suitably regal carriage, acknowledging the salutes and genuflections of the company. As he came level with Andrew and Home, Lord Grey touched the ducal arm and nodded. Monmouth raised his brows, inclined his head and passed on.

"At least
he
is not begging for money!" Andrew observed. "Nor, it seems, eager to consult us!"

"No. But now that he knows that we are here, we can scarcely
leave. Without due permission. I
cannot, anyway. . ."

"This is not Holyroodhouse and he the Lord High Commissioner, man! He is but another exile - and the King's bastard!"

"Perhaps. But all here are united in accepting him as the man who should be King. And treating him accordingly. Besides, since I am in Argyll's confidence as regards his plans, I feel that I must stay now that the Duke has come
..."

"You are? Argyll
has
plans, then? Not just vague hopes?"

"Oh, yes. Plans well advanced. The hopes are that he may convince Monmouth and his people to strike at the same time. Argyll has been planning a return to Scotland long before Monmouth came to Holland, a return in strength and arms. He has Clan Campbell all prepared to rise. He says that when he lands in his own Argyll, nine or ten thousand of his own name will draw sword for him. If a second stroke is aimed at the Lowlands, with Loudoun, Cochrane and such as myself leading, then Scotland, it is hoped, will rise, all Protestant Scotland, North and South."

"Patrick - these are not plans! They are still only vague hopes. Has it escaped your memory that though the Campbells are a Protestant clan, in name, most of the Highland clans are not? And they are united in one respect - they all hate the Campbells! A Campbell-led rising in the Highlands will ensure that the rest of the North will not join in!"

"But . . ."

"And the Campbells are scarcely
loved
in the Lowlands, as you know well.
Have
you forgot the Highland Host of a few years back? Eight thousand Campbells let loose in Renfrew, Cunninghame and Carrick, to do their worst, on Lauderdale's business! That will be remembered for long. I say that you could scarcely have a worse name to lead a Scottish rising than MacCailean Mor!"

"Yet he has the
men . . ."

The Duke and his party had disappeared into an ante-room at the head of the hall;
and
from this the
man
Dare emerged, to
push his way purposefully through the throng. It was to themselves that he headed, disapprovingly.

"Sir Patrick and Mr. Fletcher," he jerked. "His Royal Highness grants you audience. Come."

The pair exchanged glances.

"I do not seek such audience . . ." Andrew began, but the Alderman had already turned back, to lead them. Home touched his friend's arm and followed.

They were ushered into the ante-room where about a dozen, mainly Englishmen, drank with Monmouth. An argument seemed to be in progress between two of the company, evidently on the subject of cavalry tactics, the rest listening with varying degrees of interest, the Duke most obviously so. Andrew knew the younger man to be Sir John Cochrane of Ochiltree, son of the Earl of Dundonald and quite a noted soldier. The other was a stocky, grizzled elderly man, plainly-dressed and assertive of manner.

They waited.

At length Monmouth acknowledged their presence and waved the disputants to silence. "Ah, Sir Patrick. And Mr. Fletcher," he said pleasantly, "you find us exercised with matters military. About which, more and more, we must concern ourselves, I fear. I greet you kindly, gentlemen. When last we met, Mr. Fletcher, it was under very different circumstances."

"Indeed, my lord Duke - since when many good men have died."

"Sadly, yes. I grieve for them. In especial, to be sure, my royal father."

As all murmured suitably, Andrew merely inclined his head slightly.

The Duke went on more briskly. "We are here, however, concerned with practical and very essential affairs. And would welcome the counsel of you gentlemen. You, Mr. Fletcher, are prominent in the Scottish parliament - or were. In the event of my lord of Argyll's landing and rising being successful - for which we pray God - how would the Scots parliament greet a proclamation of myself as King, think you? Protestant King of Scots?"

Andrew hesitated, as well he might. "That, sir, would depend on many factors," he said, at length. "On who proclaimed it. When. Where. And whether the rising was successful in the
Lowlands.
In our parliament not one commissioner in ten comes from the Highlands."

"M'mm. We would hope, to be sure, that the Lowlands would indeed rise strongly to our Protestant banner. But my lord's intention is, of course, to land first in his own Argyll, raise the clans and then march south. Would proclamation of myself as King not greatly aid his reception in the Lowlands? In especial, if I landed meantime in England, to raise that kingdom also?"

Andrew drew a deep breath. "With all respect, sir - and to my lord of Argyll - I much doubt it. The Highlands and Lowlands seldom see eye to eye. And my lord is very much of the Highlands - at least in most Lowlanders' eyes. And even in the Highlands there are . . . clan animosities! Since you ask me, my lord Duke, I must answer in truth that such proclamation by the Earl of Argyll would be unlikely to serve your cause."

There was a murmur, fairly consistently hostile, from the company. Argyll looked outraged.

Monmouth did not, however. "Are you against any such proclamation, Mr. Fletcher? Or only if made by my lord of Argyll? Or other from the North?"

Again Andrew hesitated. "It is difficult to say, sir. You are but little known in Scotland. You have a Scottish name and wife and title. But . . ." He could hardly say that he left his Scottish wife, the Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, whilst he lived elsewhere with the Countess of Wentworth.

"Does His Highness's royal descent and ancient Stewart blood m
ean nothing to Scotchmen?" Grey
demanded, frowning. "Or
Lowland
Scotchmen!"

"Indeed it does. But then, the Duke's royal uncle is equally . . . blest!"

"But he is a Catholic, man!"

"I have not forgotten, my lord. But this of a proclamation could work both ways. Parliament - the Scots Estates - might well prefer to make anything such, themselves. In more constitutional fashion. If at all."

"So you are against it, Mr. Fletcher?" the Duke put to him, flatly.

"As a means of aiding an invasion and rising, I think that I am, sir. Unless you were present in person."

"That I fear would not be possible. In Scotland. I shall be sufficiently occupied in England! It is not my endeavour, Mr. Fletcher, to
separate
my father's crowns. I hold the United Kingdom indivisible. It was only that if, by having me proclaimed King in Scotland first, it might aid in my English campaign, that I might contemplate it. Clearly you consider it inadvisable. Do you agree with him, Sir Patrick?"

"In this of a proclamation, yes, my lord Duke, I do. In the matter of Highland and Lowland differences and lack of cooperation, I am less sure."

"Ah. One other matter, then, gentlemen - and it arises from your last point, sir. How much Lowland armed support is likely? When my lord of Argyll lands and raises my standard? Sir John Cochrane, here, fears no great deal. But my lord of Loudoun is more hopeful."

"I also am hopeful," Home declared. "I believe that Scotland is just waiting and longing to throw off its shackles!"

"Excellent! And you, Mr. Fletcher?"

"I have no wish to disappoint, my lords - but I am less sanguine. Remember that the nation is in some degree cowed. The military are in complete control. There has been twenty years of repression and persecution. It
may
have bred a spirit of rebellion and resentment - but that may not work wholly in favour of the royal house!" That was as gently as he could put it. "Again, the people's natural leaders have been driven out, imprisoned or executed, as a matter of policy - so that those on whom effective rising would depend, in the first place, are not there. The Kirk, the Church, would be strong for a Protestant revolt — but the Kirk has been stamped upon and decimated deliberately, by order from London, throughout all King Charles's reign! I say that . . ." Belatedly he recognised that he had probably said enough, by the expressions of his hearers.

"Thank you, Mr. Fletcher," Monmouth said stiffly - and then, surprisingly, was actually interrupted.

"This young man speaks sense." It was the stocky, elderly man who had been arguing with Cochrane.

"Indeed? You think, so, Colonel Rumbold?"

Andrew was more surprised than ever. Rumbold was the name of the Rye House Plot ringleader, at whose establishment the alleged assassinations were to have taken place; and he had been one of Cromwell's Ironsides colonels. So this was presumably the same man escaped from the Tower - which was sufficiently significant. Although most of the others growled their offence, the Duke eyed the older man thoughtfully.

"I had not thought that any Scot, any
Protestant
Scot, would so disapprove of what I seek to do!" Argyll declared. "To cry down our attempts."

"My lord, I do not disapprove. Of all efforts to right Scotland's wrongs. My concern is that your attempts, and mine, should be successful. For a failed attempt would be worse than none. And we should not shut our eyes to facts. Your clan is one of the most powerful in the land - but one of the best-hated! Perhaps wrongly. But that is not the point. I say that any invasion and rising in Scotland should, in the first place, be led and headed up by other than Campbells. Let them join in, by all means - but not seek to take the lead."