The Patriot (45 page)

Inevitably the Darien business was foremost on the agenda and in men's minds, and it was of course, very much the concern of Parliament, the Company having been established by official Act; also a great many of the members were financially involved. The main debate was on the scale of English hostility, its manifestations hitherto and what might be looked for in the future. There was much indignation, needless to say, and justly so. The principal offence was the activity of the English Resident in Hamburg, one Sir Paul Rycaut, who had persuaded the authorities there that England looked upon it as an inimical act if Hamburgers supported the Scots enterprise, the Company of Beggars as he called it, and had prevailed upon the Senate to declare the investment unlawful and to order the £100,000 subscribed there to be withdrawn, as in England, on pain of trade sanctions. The Dutch investors whom Paterson had also enrolled, followed suit on the orders of the States-General at the behest of the King of England -who appeared to be serenely unconcerned that he was also King of Scots. So another £200,000 had had to be repaid, that amount extra to be raised in Scotland, over and above the rest, and quickly, or the expedition ships being completed in the Hamburg yards would have been confiscated. That these vast sums had been produced from a nation notoriously poor in
money-supply was further tribute to the enthusiasms engendered and the devotion and skill of the fund-raisers.

Discussion of all this, naturally, raised the assembly to a fine pitch of resentment and eloquence - which Marchmont had to try to control and seem to damp down, although it suited Andrew's own purposes very well. His personal interventions were more concerned with the future than the past. He declared that it was unlikely that having gone so far to try to stop the entire project, the English would now sit back and seek to interfere no more. He believed that they must look for further opposition and certainly non-co-operation at the colonial scene. What might be attempted was hard to gauge, but they must be prepared, both the new colonists and themselves at home.

There was much further outcry and demands that King William be left in no doubts as to the wrath of his Scots subjects and their undoubted rights and
his
duty. All this was somewhat basic and incoherent; but presently Marchmont caught the eye of the new Lord Advocate, Sir James Stewart, of ominous name but meticulously correct bearing, who asserted soothingly that their lordships and commissioners were right to be perturbed but that the remedy lay not in wild flourishes and declamations but in the quiet application of due processes of law. He pointed out that, however hostile the English Parliament and the powerful East India Company, they were neither of them above the rule of law, their own law. Therefore legal recourse should be taken by the Scots Parliament. He proposed that a Memorial should be submitted on Scotland's legal rights in the development, emphasising their irrefragable rights in both constitutional and public law to set up their own company and colony, within the provisions of the royal charter already granted. Such Memorial should be sent both to the King and to the English Lord Chancellor. The latter was bound in law to act in the matter and to advise the King accordingly.

Stewart was supported by no less than the new Lord President of Session, Sir Hew Dalrymple of North Berwick, old Stair's second son and brother of the Glencoe instigator. He said that this was the correct and probably most effective action to take. The English were, in theory, strong on the
upholding of the law, their legalists influential in the House of Lords. Such an approach would carry far more weight than protests, resolutions and counter-threats.

Andrew, for one, was far from convinced. But he saw no real harm in the proposal - and if it was rejected by the English it would only add to the ire in Scotland and so help to maintain the temper and Darien-enthusiasm of the nation during the difficult and unprofitable months whilst the new colony was being established. So he gave it his moderate blessing.

Then another lawyerly Dalrymple voice spoke up, that of Stair himself. He announced that while he had no quarrel with his respected brother over this matter, nevertheless he urged all to consider whether their cause was best served by all this attitude of confrontation and mutual hostility, which had been the curse of their two realms for so long. Might not an outstretched hand and a smile be more productive than the shaken fist and the angry frown?

This, from the instigator of the Glencoe atrocity, certainly made the assembly sit up.

Warming to his theme, Stair went on to extol the benefits of union, a union of the two parliaments and governments, as there was already a union of the thrones. Surely this was the answer to most of their problems? An end to bickering and enmity, to sanctions against their trade and navigation and enterprises. Co-operation rather than suspicion and hatred. The smaller and less powerful nation could never win against the larger and richer and mightier. Would it not be better, therefore, to recognise the fact and join forces rather than go on fighting as they had done for centuries? It was known that there were far-seeing and influential men in favour of such a development, in London.

This was too much for Andrew. He was on his feet almost before the other had sat down. "My lord Chancellor," he cried. "The noble lord advocates union. What would such union mean? When* the small unites with the great, what happens? The greater absorbs and engulfs the lesser. It is ever so, must be. There are near ten times as many English as Scots. Think you that when the ten becomes eleven, the eleventh will
partner
the ten? Or be swallowed up by the ten? Is this
what my lord of Stair wants? An end to Scotland, the most ancient nation in Christendom, a kingdom when England was but a medley of warring tribes, from whence Christianity spread to the English, a people with their own Kirk and laws, their freedoms and customs and pride, rightful pride. Is all that, for which our forefathers have fought for untold generations, to be thrown away, for the sake of trading benefits and navigation protection? As all here know, I have worked hard and long for this trading and colonial venture. But I, for one, would rather see all our endeavour sink to the bottom of the ocean than that we lost one least part of our cherished independence and ages-old identity."

He sat down to loud and prolonged cheering.

But Stair was not so easily put down. "Mr. Fletcher roars like a lion - but his roaring hides a timorous heart!" he asserted. "He fears a union. Why? Scotland would still be Scotland. We would not be incorporated in England, only work with her instead of against her. Is not harmony to be preferred to enmity? We should be confederate states. As are those of the Netherlands, the Germans and the Empire electorates. They fare well enough in unity. Why not Scotland and England?"

"I agree with Stair." That was the Earl of Breadalbane, making an unusual appearance at Parliament House, along with other Highlanders. "If the richer will unite with the poorer, is the poorer likely to become poorer still? Will he not rather gain? I say that we have little to lose by union and much to gain."

"I say the same, my lord Chancellor," Campbell of Lochnell said. "I have put £1,000 of my siller into Mr. Fletcher's venture.
He
may be prepared to see it sunk in the ocean - but I am not!"

"There speaks a man of some sense!" James Ogilvie Earl of Findlater, another Northerner commended.

Andrew bit his lip. Had he damaged Scotland's cause by his foray behind the Highland Line? Amidst growing uproar in the hall he caught Marchmont's eye and stood until the latter's gavel restored order.

"My lord Chancellor - I
sorrow to learn that I am timorous
of heart!" he declared. "Also to learn that these last speakers are so forgetful of the elementary facts of nature, and of mankind, that they believe that the lesser joins the greater it can remain itself and maintain its whole identity. When a bit of a burnie joins a river, which streams on? The burn or the river? When a pike swallows a minnow, in all unity, who chooses the direction to swim? When a man joins a crowd, can his voice be distinguished amongst the shouting? No, my lords and friends, you all know the answers to these questions. Could it be so different for us ? I urge you to consider this of union no further. Even if some of your souls appear to be in your pockets! Have you considered English taxation? The English, my friends, have ten taxes for every one of ours. To pay for all their armies and fleets and ambitious projects. Do you wish to pay these taxes also - as we must if we were united with them? Would this suit your pockets?"

He had them there. Into the sudden silence, Johnnie Belhaven spoke.

"I say Saltoun is right. This talk of union is folly."

"Aye, aye!"

"Have done with it!"

Clearly the great majority present were of this mind. The Chancellor beat for silence.

"My lords and commissioners," he said. "May I remind you that there is no motion before the house on this subject? Nor would I entertain anything such, at this stage. We waste our time in this talk. I must bring you back to the business of the day. We shall deal with the progress of the militia companies, including the Highland Watches. My lord of Annandale, will you speak to it .
..
?"

19

They sat in the small library at Saltoun Hall, at a table drawn up before a well-doing fire of aromatic birch-logs, papers spread,
young Andrew seeking to help, his small sisters Kate and Meg, on the deerskin hearthrug, playing with the three dogs - a cosy, domestic scene. Margaret, pen in hand, was reading carefully, brows furrowed, ink drying on the quill, immersed in the meaning rather than in the words; whilst her brother-in-law frowned, pursed his lips and scratched out here and added there, pen much more busy.

It was a new task, for both of them, the correcting of printer's proofs. Andrew had long been in the habit of setting down his ideas and theories on paper; but only recently had he decided on collating and rewriting some of his voluminous notes and diaries, to turn them into publishable form. Now here were the first-fruits of his literary endeavours, in the form of sheet-proofs from the printing press, smelling strongly of printing ink, two lengthy essays or treatises, one a
Discourse on the Affairs of Scotland,
the other a
Discourse on Government with Relation to Militias.
He, for one, found the checking and correcting of these pages a trying and distracting business. He had been looking forward to seeing his brain-child in print, and admittedly this was exciting and gratifying. But he had not realised that, in seeming so much more authoritative and convincing than in his own handwriting, it would also produce in him constant urges to change this and improve that, to cut here and amplify there. In fact, his first reaction on reading through the two sets of sheets, after the brief glow of superficial satisfaction, was to rewrite the whole thing. But that would, of course, greatly delay publication, and he had all the new author's essential conviction that this great matter should be put before the privileged public at the earliest. Moreover publication was an expensive business and the printers had warned him that every alteration and especially every addition, once the type was set up, would much add to the cost. So he had brought Henry and Margaret into the issue, to read and give guidance - although whether he would accept any advice was another matter. Henry had been only moderately interested, he not being greatly concerned with national affairs and governmental theories, confining himself almost wholly with factoring the Saltoun estates for his brother, which he did very well. He had seen little to amend or enlarge upon. But

Margaret was different. She was fascinated and flatteringly impressed, most anxious to help. And she had a good brain and could even suggest improvements, in a modest way - even though Andrew scarcely sought such. But there were slight repetitions and elaborations which a fresh eye could see as unnecessary; and one or two of these the author was constrained generously to accept.

So they worked side by side before the fire, that chilly day of early May, he on the Militia discourse, she on the Scottish Affairs one, each frequently interrupting the other, to read out this passage or that for comment; whilst young Andrew sought to put together the corrected and as yet unnumbered sheets in approximate order, with constant demands for guidance and unnecessary questions.

Margaret, impressed as she was by the clarity, penetration and scope of it all, was just a little concerned over the possibility, indeed probability, of giving offence in certain quarters. She agreed that it was almost impossible not to, in dealing with political and governmental matters; but felt that certain personal references might perhaps be toned down and actual names omitted. After all, anybody with any knowledge of the subject would know who was meant and who was pilloried, in almost every case, without having to risk angry repercussions by stating names in print - Lord Stair, for instance. And Lord Melville. Even Sir James Montgomery and the Reverend Carstairs. Andrew declared that this would enfeeble and emasculate all - not to be considered.

They were debating this, the woman tactfully, the man vigorously, when the door opened to reveal Henry, with Johnnie Belhaven and a squat, tough-looking individual with a weather-beaten face, vaguely familiar to Andrew. There was a to-do of greetings and dogs.