MacCailean Mor, Chief of Clan Campbell and 9th Earl of Argyll, was a somewhat nondescript individual, little more prepossessing than had been his executed father, the great Montrose's deadly foe, but lacking his snake-like and dangerous character. Not eloquent, he rose reluctantly, muttered briefly that his people were in the South-West for training in aid of the civil power and were entirely well-behaved. He sat down.
That was scarcely well-received by the West Country members. As clamour rose and Hamilton got to his feet again, Lauderdale waved to catch the Chancellor's eye, and nodded briefly.
"We have a motion, seconded and supported - however ill-advised. We shall vote of Lord Belhaven's motion and waste no more time." Rothes paused. "But I warn all to consider well
how
they vote! The motion is to advise the King's Grace to repeal the Act Against Conventicles. Those in favour, show."
So they came to the test. Andrew, hand raised, looked round the crowded chamber - and his heart sank. Some few were eager, as was he; more were hesitant to declare themselves in favour, but the vast majority were obviously going to sit tight, do nothing, even many of the Westland lairds and burgesses.
"Aye," Bruce sighed at his side. "There's the way of it! Lauderdale has sown his seed - and here's the harvest! Bribes, promises, threats and falsified elections, and we see the result!"
There was no need to count. Less than one-third of the gathering voted for the repeal of one of the worst Acts ever to have stained the fame of this most ancient parliament, an Act of such intolerance, of Lauderdale's devising eight years before, that even King Charles had thought it extravagantly severe, with up to the death penalty for attending the outdoor religious services of the dismissed parish ministers who would not accept episcopacy and the rules of bishops.
"The motion falls," Rothes declared. "We return to the business before this convention - the authorisation of supply for the King's forces."
"No use opposing further," Bruce murmured. "We will be outvoted by the same majority."
Andrew bit his lip in impotence.
"I move that the sum required be authorised," the Archbishop of Glasgow said quickly.
"I second," the Earl of Linlithgow added, as promptly.
"I move against," a new voice spoke up, that of a grizzled, burly man of weather-beaten good looks, Sir William Scott of Harden. "I have call to, I say - for I have been fined £1,500 for my wife attending at a conventicle. £1,500, my lords and friends - which much moneys, I am assured, have been gifted to Sir George Mackenzie of Rosehaugh, yonder, the King's Advocate
..."
Once more there was uproar.
From a special side-bench a handsome, fine-featured man rose, one of the cleverest individuals in the kingdom. "As one of the Crown's officers, I request the protection of the Crown against such slander, Your Grace."
"And you shall have it, by God!" Lauderdale cried. "Any further such-like attacks - aye, and any further ill meddling in matters no' before this convention - and I shall instruct the King's Advocate to proceed against such as attempt it, whosoever they be! I warn all. I will adjourn the session if this continues."
Into the silence the Duke of Hamilton laughed, and waved his handkerchief. He was one whom even Sir George Mackenzie would not dare arrest.
Rothes spoke. "We have a motion, seconded and supported. That the supply be granted. It has been moved against. So must be voted upon. I call . . ."
Hamilton rose again. "I move a third and relevant motion."
The Chancellor swallowed, looked at Lauderdale and shrugged. The Duke had every right so to move. Curtly he nodded. "So long as it
is
relevant."
"It is. Before this great sum is authorised, this convention is entitled to hear more. How the sum was arrived at? By whom? And why? Might it be for other than the raising of troops? Before I left London I heard talk at Court that the Duke of Lauderdale was going to bring back from Scotland a notable gift for the King's Grace. Which would perhaps restore the King's favour towards him - for the said Duke has been losing place of late, you should know! This great sum of money, I suggest . . ."
"Silence! Silence, I say!" This was a bellow from the throne. Lauderdale was on his feet, features more congested than ever, both fists raised and shaking, a dire sight. "This I will not hear, from any man! I . . . I . . ." He pointed a quivering finger at Rothes. "Enough! I adjourn this session. Adjourn, do you hear?" And leaving his seat he lurched unsteadily over to the nearby doorway, flung wide the closed door, and out, leaving the Chancellor, the officers of state with the Honours Three, the royal guard and the clerks to straggle off after him, as best they could.
Pandemonium reigned in Scotland's Parliament Hall.
That evening Andrew and Henry Fletcher made their way down Edinburgh's crowded High Street, from their lodgings in the Lawnmarket, past the High Kirk of St. Giles - now being called a cathedral and seat of a bishop - and the Parliament House behind, as far as the Canongate, to the town-house of the Earl of Southesk. The city was packed, of course, and the streets athrong with folk, especially all the hangers-on of the lords and lairds, a noisy, quarrelsome, drunken element.
Henry was a little uncomfortable. He was a sensitive young man, very good-looking in an almost girlish way, two years younger than his brother and very different from him in almost every way. They were very good friends, however, with Andrew distinctly protective; they had been twelve and ten respectively when their father had died. Although Henry had not been invited to Southesk's house, his brother would not hear of him being left alone for the evening in their lodging. It was Sir David Carnegie of Pitarrow, Southesk's brother, who
had come up to Andrew as he was leaving the Parliament Hall, and suggested that he might care to dine with them that evening, mentioning that B
elhaven would be there. The Car
negies were reputedly an open-handed lot - and presumably anti-Lauderdale.
At the tall tenement within Little's Close, off the Canongate, they were welcomed casually but uncritically, with no one seeming to realise that there was an uninvited guest amongst the many already present. Henry relaxed.
Belhaven, after congratulating Andrew on his intervention earlier, introduced them to Lord Southesk, a big, genial man, son of a difficult father, and brother of the equally difficult wife of the late and famous Marquis of Montrose. Nowadays the Carnegies found it an honour to have been connected with the Great Marquis; it was not always so.
Southesk and his brother made much of Andrew, for whose courage and initiative of the afternoon they expressed admiration. But they warned him as to the consequences of Lauderdale's enmity - as indeed did all.
When they sat down to dinner the brothers were placed in the care of a young woman, who sat between them - which pleased them both, for she was good-looking and friendly and they had had their eyes on her from the start as the only other person present approximately of their own age. She proved to be Margaret Carnegie, daughter of Sir David. They found her easy to get on with, suitably impressed with Andrew but careful to be equally attentive to Henry.
As the meal progressed, his elders from farther up the table sought to bring Andrew more into their conversation. He was flattered, but in the circumstances would rather have talked to the young woman. They were, of course, concerned almost entirely with the political situation, and gloomily so. The general opinion was that Lauderdale would have everything his own way, as usual, and that there was little that anyone could do - not in Scotland, anyway. Only in London might the man's fall be encompassed.
Although much the oldest there, Belhaven was the most optimistic. "I say that Maitland gives too many hostages to fortune. He makes mistakes, for he is not all clever. He has his
stupidities and weaknesses. And that woman he has married could much endanger as well as enrich him. One day he will make a large mistake - which we may latch on to. How say you, Andrew?
"He may well make the mistakes, my lord. But how do we latch on? From what I have seen today, we will not latch on to anything! We many of us may hate Lauderdale and all that he stands for. But that is all. We are not united, have no common policy. Each goes his own way. That will never bring Lauderdale down."
"And you see a way, lad? To unite men who have nothing in common save hatred of the man?"
"I say that we need a party. I am no lover of England and
their
parliament. But they can teach us something here. They have parties. Large groupings, who agree on a policy, or various policies. And vote with that party, even though not always agreeing with
all
the policies. So they wield power. We have only individuals - and wield none. Lauderdale and his cronies can pick us off one by one."
Not a few of his seniors began to speak at once. As host, Southesk prevailed.
"We have never gone in for parties, Mr. Fletcher. The Scots Estates are not like that, not made up so. We are free men all — save perhaps some of the burgesses, of whom I know little. We must remain our own men, not ruled by any party."
"You are ruled by the Duke of Lauderdale, my lord! Is that to be preferred to making cause with others who think as you do? When nothing is more sure than that, if his London masters have their way, there will be no Scots Estates at all, only the English Parliament incorporating the Scots."
There was silence at that, and Andrew himself felt a pang of apprehension over having spoken so to an earl, his host, old enough to be his father. But at his side, Margaret Carnegie nodded to him approvingly, murmuring 'Good! Good!' and he was encouraged. Interested also that this young woman should be concerned in such matters.
Her father it was who spoke. "I fear that there is much in what Mr. Fletcher says. Especially this talk of a union, an incorporating union. It is said that the King is strongly for it.
And his English advisers. Myself, I doubt whether Lauderdale would wish to go so far, since it would reduce his own power. But it is something that we will have to beware of, ever more keenly. Or England will have achieved by words what she has failed to achieve over six hundred years of warfare!"
There were cries of 'Never! Never!' from around the table.
Belhaven nodded agreement. "This is the greatest danger facing us - the loss of our birthright, freedom. Beside that, all else pales. The King, no doubt, sees it only as an administrative reform, to facilitate his rule from London. He no doubt means well. But his grandsire, King James, would never have countenanced it, for all his failings. It could be the end of Scotland as an independent nation."
"It has not come to that, yet," Southesk said.
"No. But this of the new standing army could facilitate it. Give added power to London - for nothing is more sure than that such army will be London-controlled. As well as draining Scotland of these vast moneys."
"Could there be any truth in what Duke Hamilton suggested, my lord?" Andrew wondered. "That the raising of the troops might be only an excuse? That the money, or most of it, might really be only for a gift to the King - who is ever short, they say, with his extravagances?"
"God knows, lad! It is certainly a strange and unheard of demand."
"This Highland Host, as they call it, of Argyll's, in the West - it could all be part of a deep-laid ploy to foment trouble, which could be called rebellion, and so for requiring more soldiers, so providing excuse for the levying of the money. Especially if, as Duke Hamilton hinted, Lauderdale's repute with the King is sinking. Could there be truth in this also? My uncle, Sir Alexander Bruce, also said as much."
"Hamilton is straight from London and the Court. He should know."
"No doubt. But this is but speculation," Sir David Carnegie put in. "Interesting but not immediate. Our problem is tomorrow. How to prevent that supply being granted? This enormous sum. Lauderdale can win any vote in this convention, as he has scurvily contrived. How can we thwart him?"
No one was in haste to answer that. Daring again, Andrew spoke up.
"Delay," he suggested. "We cannot win a vote. But we might delay. Few are prepared to stand up to Lauderdale. But many must doubt and fear. Even amongst those whom he has bribed and bought. Such vast moneys must give all pause. So delay might be accepted. Propose commissioners to enquire. Into details. At least prevent a rushed vote. Two matters would allow reason for this. First the great rigging of the elections, making false all voting. A committee to enquire into this. Second, the amount of the moneys demanded. How such great sum was reached should be enquired into. Another committee of the convention. Delay, give time to rouse the land."
"By God - that is a notion!" Scott of Harden, he who had suffered the £1,500 fine, exclaimed. "It might work."
"At least it would give us something to fight for - not to be swept away on a snap vote," somebody else said.