BOOK XII.

A.D. 1678-1679.

Privy council forbids emigration—Mitchell’s trial and execution—Highland host—Committee of the council arrive at Glasgow—Deputation from Ayr sent to the Commissioner—Bond refused—Committee proceed to Ayr—Earl of Cassilis—Law-burrows—Case of Lord Cochrane—Ravages of “the Highland Host”—Their return home—Earl of Cassilis goes to court—Duke of Hamilton follows—Complaints dismissed—State of the country—Murder of Sharpe.

Capricious as cruel in their tyranny, the council would neither allow the Presbyterians to live peaceably at home, nor permit them to seek liberty abroad, especially if they were persons of rank, whom they wished to make participators of their tyranny as they could not induce them to be willing associates in their crimes. Having learned that several noblemen and others of high station, disgusted with their proceedings, were preparing to leave the country, they issued a proclamation, January 3, forbidding any person, lord or commoner, to remove forth thereof upon any pretext whatsoever, without a special license from them, under the highest penalties; and to make assurance doubly sure, they ordered the principal among them, whom they considered as their political rivals, or who were more moderate in their principles, to attend “a committee of the privy council,” appointed to accompany the forces in the west country, to receive their orders and obey their commands.[[91]]

[91]. Numbers of the persecuted in England had left that country for America, and were founding the states of New England, New Jersey, Massachusetts, &c., which formed asylums for their brethren during these perilous times. Many of the Scots who to Holland, also sought refuge in the New World. But it would appear the Scottish prelatists being, as all turncoats are, more violent than the English persecutors, wished to retain their more conscientious countrymen at home, that they might have the pleasure of tormenting them, and enjoying the yet higher gratification of revelling on their fines. The prohibition in Scotland was intended, besides, to answer another purpose, to prevent any of the nobility proceeding to court without leave; for Lauderdale knew well the advantage of engrossing the royal ear.

Before proceeding to detail the transactions of this savage horde and their directors, I shall advert to a transaction still more disgraceful to the council, as setting at defiance all moral decency, and bursting asunder every tie that gives security to society, which can only exist well where the obligations both of the rulers and the ruled are held sacred. I mean the trial and execution of James Mitchell.

Cowards are proverbially cruel, and the renegade primate was not remarkable for courage. He seems to have been constantly haunted with the terrors of assassination. Fearing his own treacherous “law-skreened murders” might provoke some other resolute arm to retaliate, he could not be at rest while Mitchell lived, and appears to have imagined that the destruction of that poor man was necessary to secure his own safety. He therefore resolved, by making an example of him, to show that the sacred person of a priest was not to be threatened with impunity. Accordingly, Mitchell was brought from the Bass to Edinburgh in the end of last year, and received an indictment to stand trial for his attempt. On January 7, 1678, he was brought to the bar of the Justiciary, where Primrose, justice-general, sat as one of his judges, and Sir George Mackenzie acted as accuser, both of whom were perfectly acquainted with the promise of pardon which had been made. Primrose had been summoned as a witness, but was dispensed with; and, had he possessed the smallest particle of common feeling, or of common honesty, he would never have consented to sit as a judge—much less would Mackenzie, who had acted as his advocate on the former trial, have now come forward as his prosecutor; yet so it was. Primrose, however, transmitted privately to Mitchell’s advocates, a copy of the act of council in which the assurance was contained. Lauderdale had been previously warned of its existence by Kincardine. The pleadings, before entering upon the evidence, were long and ingenious. His advocates, Sir George Lockhart and Mr John Ellis, contended that the libel was not relevant,—as a mere attempt, when unsuccessful, could never constitute the crime of murder; that by the laws of this kingdom, by the civil law, and the common opinion of civilians, it was not a capital offence, except in cases of parricide or treason; and, besides, the act charged was assassination or murder committed for hire—a term and a crime unknown in Scottish law; nor is it charged against the prisoner that he was hired by any person to commit the deed. As to the confession, if such a thing existed, which the panel refused to acknowledge, it was extrajudicial, not being made in presence of the assize, who are judges of the whole proof, and therefore could not be admitted, unless taken together with the promise of pardon by which it was elicited. But they especially insisted upon the promise of pardon, as rendering any charge founded upon such confession totally irrevelant.

The Lord Advocate replied, that, by act 16, parl. James VI. nudus conatus, attempting and invading, though nothing followed, is found relevant to infer the pain of death; and by the common law, an attempt is capital, where the panel has been guilty of the proximate act, and done all that it was in his power to do:—adding, most unfairly and untruly, that Mitchell belonged to a sect that hated and execrated the hierarchy, who deemed it lawful to kill persons of a prelatical character; and he could prove that Mr James himself held such opinions, which he endeavoured to defend by wrested places of Scripture, and acknowledged that the reason why he shot at the archbishop was, because he thought him a persecutor of the nefarious and execrable rebels who appeared on the Pentland Hills. As to assassination not being known in Scots law, the term might not be there, but the nation would be worse than the Tartars, if lying in wait with a design to kill clandestinely, where a person, after mature deliberation, ripens his villany and watches his opportunity, if this should not be held in greater detestation, and punished more severely than ordinary murder. As to being hired, if taking money constitute the criminality of assassination, how much greater is it when committed to earn a higher reward. He that takes money to kill, will stab only in the dark, and where he may escape; but the sun, and the cross, and the confluence of all the world, cannot secure against the stroke of the murderer who expects heaven as his reward, and thinks that the deed deserves it. Respecting the promise of pardon, the promise of life from a judge, who has not the power to grant it, is of no avail unless the panel can prove that he expressly pactioned that his confession should not operate against him; and a confession emitted without any such regular bargain, is of no avail, even though the judge should promise life; for this would be to make a judge a king.[[92]] As to the confession being extrajudicial, so far from this being the case, it was taken by the authority of the privy council, the highest judicatory of the nation, uniting in itself the powers both of the Court of Session and the Court of Justiciary; and if confessions emitted before the lords of session are a sole, final, and plenary probation before the Court of Justiciary, it were absurd to suppose that a confession emitted before the Privy Council should not be deemed valid.

[92]. The advocate, as a proof that civilians were on his side, quoted Ægidius Bossius, who, Titulo de Examine Reorum 15 and 16, says—“Judex qui induxit reum ad confitendum sub promissione veniæ non tenetur servare promissum in foro contensioso.” The judge who induces a panel to confess, by a promise of pardon, is not bound to keep his promise in a contested trial, which seems, says Lord Fountainhall in his notes, “to be ane disingenous opinion.”

The court decided that the crime, as libelled, was relevant, i. e. sufficient, to infer the pains of law; but, at the same time, found that the defence if proven was relevant to secure the panel of his life and limb. There were no witnesses to establish the fact; his confession was the only evidence adduced; to substantiate which, Rothes was first examined, who deponed that he saw the panel sign the confession. Being asked, whether or not his lordship did offer to the panel, upon his confession, to secure his life, in these words, upon his lordship’s life, honour, and reputation? he swore that he did not at all give any assurance to the panel for his life, and that the panel never sought any such assurance from him, nor did he remember receiving any warrant from the council for that purpose. Upon this, Mitchell entreated the Chancellor to remember the honour of the family of Rothes, and mind that he took him by the hand, and said—“Jacobe, man, confess; and, as I am Chancellor of Scotland, ye shall be safe in liffe and limb;” to which all the answer returned by the Chancellor was, “that he hoped his reputation was not yet so low as that what the panel said, either there or elsewhere, would be credited, since he had sworn.” The panel, however, still averred the contrary.

Lord Hatton, Lauderdale, and Sharpe swore to the same effect. When Sharpe had done, Nicol Somerville, agent, brother-in-law to the panel, boldly contradicted him, and bid him remember certain times and expressions. The archbishop, who did not much relish getting his memory so refreshed, “fell in a mighty chaff and passion, exceedingly unbecoming his station and the circumstances he was then stated in, and fell a scolding before thousands of onlookers. Nicol yielded in nothing; and after the bishop had sworne, he cryed out that upon his salvation what he had affirmed was true.” “And the misfortune was, that few there but they believed Nicol better than the archbishop.”[[93]] Sir John Nisbet, who was Lord Advocate at the time, and one of the committee who examined Mitchell, summoned as a witness for the crown—probably to prevent him from being adduced for Mitchell—was not called, Sir George Mackenzie, it is likely, being afraid to trust him.

[93]. Fountainhall’s notes.

After the public prosecutor had declared his proof closed, the panel’s advocates produced the copy of the act of council, and craved that the books of council, which were lying in the next room, might be produced, or the clerks ordered to give extracts, which they had formerly refused. At this Lauderdale, who had no right to speak, “stormed mightily,” and told the court “the books of council contained the king’s secrets, and he would not permit them to be examined; he came there to depone as a witness, not to be staged for perjury”—an unguarded remark, which must have been understood by the judges as a plain confession that he knew he had sworn falsely; yet, with a mean servility, they would not assert their own dignity, nor do justice to the panel. They refused to grant warrant for producing the registers, because not applied for before, which Fountainhall observes “choaked both criminal law and equity, for it is never too late to urge any thing in favour of a panel until the assize be closed.” Sir George Lockhart defended him with admirable strength of reasoning; and the trial, which is characterized as the most solemn which had taken place in Scotland for a hundred years, lasted four days. The jury returned a verdict, finding him guilty upon his own confession; but the promise of pardon they found not proven. He was condemned to be hanged on Friday the 18th of January.

On leaving court, the four “noble” witnesses proceeded to the Council-chamber and inspected the books, where they saw the indelible record of their own guilt and infamy, which still remains, and, like convicted rogues, began each to vindicate himself. After a vain attempt to fix it upon the late Lord Advocate, Nisbet, had failed, Lauderdale, who seems to have had some compunctious visitations, proposed to grant a reprieve, and refer the matter to the king. But the primate insisted that if favour were shown to this assassin, it would be exposing his person to the next murderer who should attempt it. “Then,” said Lauderdale, “let Mitchell glorify God in the Grassmarket.”[[94]] He was accordingly executed, pursuant to his sentence. Sharpe, whose vanity and ambition were unbounded, aping an equality with royalty, had obtained an order from court, that Mitchell’s head should be affixed on some public place of the city, as if his crime had been high treason! But it was told him what was pronounced for doom could not be altered; so he missed this gratification. Nor did the fate of Mitchell tend to avert his own. Mitchell’s misguided act was forgotten in the deeper and more deliberate revenge of the archbishop, and in the atrocious breach of public faith by the council. His dying declaration, widely circulated through the country, exhibited such a view of the treachery and almost unexampled perjury of the first ministers in the church and in the state, as excited universal horror and execration.[[95]]

[94]. The usual place of execution at that time.

[95]. The question then much agitated—“The extraordinary execution of judgement by private men”—was supported by an apophthegm borrowed from Tertullian—“Every man is a soldier enrolled to bear arms against all traitors and public enemies;” and by the authority of Dr Ames, who, in his treatise on Conscience, published 1674, says—“Sometimes it is lawful to kill, no public precognition proceeding, when the cause evidently requires it should be done, and public authority cannot be got: For in that case a private man is publickly constitute the minister of justice, as well by the permission of God as the consent of all men.” Mitchell, when questioned by the Chancellor, thus defended his attack upon Sharpe—and it is easy to conceive that such reasoning would appear irrefragable to a mind excited as his was—“I looked upon him to be the main instigator of all the oppression and bloodshed thereupon, and the continual pursuing after my own; and, my lord, it was creditably reported to us (the truth of which your lordship knows better than we) that he kept up his majesty’s letter inhibiting any more blood upon that account, until the last six were executed; and I being a soldier, not having laid down my arms, but being upon my own defence; and in prosecution of the ends of the same covenant [which he also had sworn] which was the overthrow of prelates and prelacy; and I being a declared enemy to him on that account, and he to me in like manner: as he was always to take his advantage of me, as it appeareth, so I of him, to take any opportunity offered. Moreover, we being in no terms of capitulation, but on the contrary, I, by his instigation being excluded from all grace and favour, thought it my duty to pursue him at all events.”

Upon the 24th of January, the threatened army, better known by the name of “the Highland Host,”[[96]] assembled at Stirling. The Earls were their colonels, who received a handsome pay; but the active officers were a set of thievish lairds; and their retainers, wild savages, unacquainted with any other law than the will of their chiefs, whose mandates they obeyed without inquiry upon every occasion—only in the division of the spoil, they sometimes helped themselves without waiting the directions of their superiors. They amounted in all, including about two thousand regulars and two thousand militia, to about ten thousand men, with four field-pieces, and with a great quantity of spades, shovels, and mattocks, as if they were marching to besiege fortified cities; their daggers were formed to fasten on the muzzles of the muskets, as a kind of rude bayonets, to attack cavalry; yet were they accompanied with other instruments that betokened any thing but going to meet a regular force—iron shackles and thumb-screws!

[96]. Because Highlanders formed the majority; the regulars or king’s guards were the worst; the militia, although not good, seem to have been the best, if any could be called best among them, unless it were that in the act of plundering, they were not quite so fierce as the others. “The debauched clargie thought it no shame to call thes dragoons the ruling elders of the church.” Wodrow, MS. Advocates’ Lib. xl. art. 47, quoted by Dr M’Crie. Mem. of Geo. Brysson, p. 275.

The approach of such an array amazed the peaceable inhabitants of the west, nor were the military gentlemen themselves less astonished when they passed through a country represented as in a state of rebellion, but where they saw every thing perfectly loyal and tranquil. Nevertheless, the mountaineers in their march, and during the time they remained in the west, gratified the expectations of their employers to the full. Behaving with the unbridled insolence of victorious mercenaries in a conquered country, they made free with whatever they wanted without ceremony, seizing every serviceable horse for the transport of their baggage, even those at the ploughs in the midst of the tillage, extorting money and beating and wounding whoever resisted, without distinction. Nor were the few heritors who took the bond exempted. They found, when too late, that they had violated their consciences, or at least their consistency, in vain; and some of them afterwards deeply lamented their compliance, regretting that they had not rather, like the majority of their neighbours, taken quietly the spoiling of their goods.

Their head-quarters were first at Glasgow, but the tumultuous bands soon spread through Clydesdale, Renfrew, Cunninghame, Kyle, and Carrick. Previously to their arrival, the ministers had held a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer. This the prelates represented as preparatory to a communion, after which there was to be a general insurrection. The report was soon discovered to be false, but it had quickened the advance of the host, and was either believed, or pretended to be believed, by Lauderdale; for, when a deputation from the nobility and gentry of Ayrshire came to Edinburgh to represent to the council the tranquillity and unimpeachable loyalty of the whole district, he would not so much as give them audience; and when some of them offered to engage for the peace of the shire, the proposal was peremptorily refused, and they were informed that no compromise could be entered into, nothing less would be accepted than that the whole of them present should instantly put their signatures to the bond, and pledge themselves for all the other heritors doing the same. The deputation could not promise for others, and they returned to witness the authorized enormous disorders they had employed every legal method in their power to prevent.

On the 28th of the month, the committee of council, armed with Justiciary power, met at Glasgow to consider their instructions and proceed to action.[[97]] They were directed to order the sheriffs of the different counties to convene all the heritors, and require them to subscribe a bond, obliging themselves, wives, bairns, and servants, as also their haill tenants, and cottars, with their wives, bairns, and servants, to abstain from conventicles, and not to receive, assist, or speak to any forfeited persons, intercommuned ministers, or vagrant preachers, but to use their utmost endeavours to apprehend all such, promising, if any of their families or dependents should contravene, to present them to the judge-ordinary that they might be fined or imprisoned for their delinquencies. All who took the bond were to receive a protection that their lands would not be quartered upon. They were also to cause the leaders of the horsemen of the militia troops to deliver to them the haill militia arms, and to disarm heritors and all other persons, except privy councillors and military men; but noblemen and gentlemen of quality were to be allowed to wear their swords. The arms were to be lodged in the Castle of Dumbarton.

[97]. The committee consisted of the Marquis of Atholl, the Earls of Marr, Murray, Glencairn, Wigton, Strathmore, Linlithgow, Airly, Caithness, Perth, and Lord Ross, all of whom were commanders in the army, except Glencairn and Wigton.

Framed as this bond was, it required no ghost to tell that it would not generally be taken; and its refusal was looked forward to by the government with joyful anticipation, as what would justify their pressing it with a rigour that would produce the grand, much longed-for consummation—a desperate resistance. But this was for the present postponed—the disarming of the people, although not complete, prevented any immediate outbreaking, while the example of the Duke of Hamilton, Lords Loudon, Cochrane, and especially the constancy of Lord Cassilis, encouraged the great body of the gentry to continue steadfast in opposition to a bond which the council had exceeded their powers in enacting, and could not legally oblige the lieges to subscribe without the authority of parliament. Besides its illegality, these patriots considered it cruel and degrading—cruel, in forbidding them to give relief to Christian ministers, and others in distress, even though their own relatives, and to shut up their bowels of compassion from them, merely on account of difference of opinion about church government—degrading, in desiring them to act as beadles or common messengers at arms, without their own consent.

From Glasgow the committee proceeded to Ayr; and among their first proceedings, they ordered the Earl of Cassilis to demolish all the meeting-houses in Carrick. The Earl represented the probability of opposition, and having been disarmed, requested that a party of soldiers, or at least some of the neighbouring gentlemen, might be ordered to protect him; even this reasonable request could not be granted; and while he hesitated, a friendly councillor hinted that there was but an hair’s-breadth between him and imprisonment. Such, however, was the esteem in which this young nobleman was held, that the people themselves demolished the offensive places of worship, rather than that he should be troubled about them.[[98]] But the council, not willing that he should get so quietly rid of the job, ordered him to bring back the doors and all the timber of these meeting-houses, and burn it on the spot where they had stood. his lordship complied with this useless but tyrannically-teasing order.

[98]. The meeting-houses were not in common very costly fabricks. Like the temple at Jerusalem, no mason’s iron was heard in their building, being generally framed of rough unhewn stones, covered with turf; and the people were thankful when the government did not interfere with their cheap church-extension scheme. Stately cathedrals they asked not, they cheerfully left them to the Romanists and the renegade prelatical conformists, their brethren. Consecrated walls were words unknown in their vocabulary, all they asked was shelter from the weather and very humble accomodation for their wearied limbs. Nor did they always ask even these; for their ministers, following the example of Him whose servants they professed to be, oftener had the mountain for their pulpit and the heavens for their sounding-board, than the crimson-covered desk with velvet cushion and gilded canopy; while they themselves were satisfied, if they could hear the gospel faithfully preached, although on the mountain side, or in “divot theikit beilds.”

Notwithstanding the stubborn opposition it met with, the council appeared determined to urge the bond, and issued a fresh proclamation, February 11, forbidding any person to be received as a tenant or servant without a certificate from the landlord or master they last left, or from the minister of the parish, that they had lived orderly and attended the parish church, and had not heard any of the vagrant preachers, who without license impiously assumed the holy orders of the church. To this was annexed a new bond of similar import with the former, and as an encouragement, all the members of council signed it, and appointed the lords of session to do the same when they met. Every inducement proved ineffectual; and the reports of the commissioners appointed to see their orders carried into execution, were by no means satisfactory to the council. The arms were only partially delivered up, and the bond would not at all go down; and what was the most vexatious part of the business, it was decidedly rejected by some eminent lawyers in the capital, and several of the chief nobility in Fife, Stirlingshire, and Teviotdale. The report from Lanark, too, was provoking beyond measure; of two thousand nine hundred heritors, only nineteen of the smallest complied.

Perceiving at length that the opposition was too extensive, and based upon principles which could not be sneered at as fanatical, Lauderdale is said at one of their meetings to have bared his arm in fury, and sworn by Jehovah that he would force them to take the bond. But it was to be tendered in another shape, under the guise of a legal quibble—probably the new Lord Advocate might have had the merit of suggesting it; for certainly the scheme was more like the device of a pettifogging attorney than the counsel of a sound statesman. When a deadly feud had arisen between two neighbours, as the ancient Scots were an ardent irascible race, it generally terminated fatally, and not infrequently involved the whole relations in a species of domestic warfare, which lasted for generations till one party was worn out or gave in. To prevent these consequences, it had been enacted in the reign of James II. and confirmed in the 7th parliament of James VI., that an individual who feared bodily harm from another, by an application upon oath to a magistrate, might obtain a “writ of law-burrows” to oblige the person of whose violence he was apprehensive, to give security that he should keep the peace, nor “skaith or damage” the applicant. This legal pledge, a wise and necessary precaution to insure personal safety in turbulent times, such as the frequent minorities of the Jameses had produced, the council contrived to convert into a more oppressive obligation than even the bond itself. Assuming an absurd legal fiction, that his majesty and his government were put in bodily fear by the persons who refused to take the bond, they issued writs of law-burrows, not only against individuals, but against a county.

By additional instructions, the committee were directed to pursue all heritors who had not taken the bond for all conventicles kept on their lands since the 24th of March 1674—the fine to be exacted for each conventicle being fifty pounds. They were also to summon them and their tenants, &c. to answer for building, or being present at the building, of any preaching-house—the fine imposed to be arbitrary. No nobleman or gentleman who refused the bond was to be allowed to wear his sword, and whoever delayed beyond six days to appear at the council-bar, after they were summoned, were to be amerced in two years’ valued rent, and were likewise liable for the delinquencies of their tenants and servants.

Immediately after this, a number of gentlemen in Ayrshire were summoned before the committee, upon a charge of law-burrows; but while they made the strongest professions of loyalty, they steadily resisted putting their hands to a deed which they deemed illegal, irreconcilable with their profession as Presbyterians, and impracticable with respect to all their retainers and dependents. One of them, unfortunately his name is not preserved, who had indignantly refused, on being told by the president that, if he continued obstinate, the Highlanders, who had been quartered upon a neighbouring gentleman’s property till he had complied, would be transferred to his till he became convinced of the propriety of obedience, replied, “he had no answer to that argument; but before he would comply with the law-burrows, he would rather go to prison.”

Lord Cochrane was next before them. He had been served with an indictment, charging him with encouraging field and house conventicles, and conversing with intercommuned ministers; in a word, he or his wife, or some of his family or tenants, had rebelled against the king by attending upon the preaching of the gospel, impiously proclaimed by men who owned no bishop, and who wore no surplice; and was called to answer to the charge within twenty-four hours. His lordship objected to the shortness of the time allowed to answer, and contended that, as his indictment contained a capital charge, it was necessary the “diet” or meeting should be prolonged, that he might have time to consult with his advocates; and, when called to answer upon oath, declined to do so, “no man being bound by any law to give his oath, where the punishment may be in any way—corporis afflictiva, quia nemo est dominus membrorum suorum”—destructive to the body, because nobody is lord of his own body. The committee told him their diets were peremptory, i. e. their meetings were fixed for certain times, and therefore the accused were bound to answer upon the instant; but, at the same time, passed an interlocutor, restricting the libel to an arbitrary punishment, i. e. declaring that whatever his lordship might depone should never infer a capital infliction.

His lordship next pleaded that, by an act of council so late as the 5th of October last year, all libels against conventicles were restricted to a month backwards, consequently he was free. He was asked if he had brought an extract of the act? He replied he had not, but it was well enough known, and referred to their lordships themselves and the public prosecutor. They all declared they knew nothing about it. He then begged that the clerk might be questioned; but they would not allow their clerk to give evidence in that matter; and he was again called upon to swear, otherwise he would be held as confessed. Seeing at last that nothing else, no not even their own acts, would avail, he made oath “that he was free of all conventicles, as were all his servants, to the best of his knowledge.” Some new queries were now put to him by the Lord Advocate. He refused to answer to any matters not alleged against him in his indictment, and appealed to their lordships. They gave it in his favour! finding “that he was not obliged to depone to any thing not contained in his indictment;” and the court adjourned.

When they met in the afternoon of the same day—21st February 1678—Lord Cathcart, Sir John Cochrane, with some others, among whom was the Laird of Kilbirnie, refused the bond upon the same grounds—the act of council, October the 5th. The lords again denied their knowledge of such an act; but when Kilbirnie, prepared for this, offered to produce a copy, they would not receive it, saying, if there was such an act it was superseded by posterior acts. He then offered to protest against their proceeding without allowing him to produce it. This the Earl of Caithness opposed, by representing the danger he incurred in so doing; but when he persisted, his lordship suddenly adjourned the sederunt, and thus prevented him from getting it formally entered on the record.

While the committee were denying the provisions of their own acts which had the least semblance of moderation, “the Highland Host” were ravaging the devoted west without mercy.[[99]] Free quarters were every where exacted by the militia and king’s forces, although they received regular pay. But the Highlanders, not content with free quarters, would march in large bands to gentlemens’ and heritors’ houses, as well as their tenants, and take up their lodgings, and force the proprietors to furnish them with whatever they chose to demand, or they would take whatever struck their fancy; and, when some of their own officers interposed, would present their daggers to their breasts, and dare them to touch their plunder. They infested the high-roads in a most ferocious manner, not only robbing the passengers of their money or baggage, but even stripping them of their clothes, and sending them to travel naked for miles ere they could reach home. From the country-folks’ and cottars’ houses, they carried off pots, pans, wearing-apparel, bedclothes, or whatever was portable; and, notwithstanding the government had taken care to order provisions, both officers and men carried off or wantonly killed the cattle, under pretence that they wanted food, unless they were bribed by money; yet that did not always avail, the plunderers often both pocketing the coin and driving the cattle. In some places they proceeded the horrible length of scorching the people before large fires, in order to extort a confession, if they suspected they had any hidden valuables; and to these rapacious, needy hordes, the lowest necessary utensils of civilized life were precious.

[99]. Garrisons were ordered to be “planted, 100 foot and 20 horse, in the house of Blairquhan, Carrick; 50 foot and 10 horse in Barskimming, and the same in Cessnock. The commissioners of the shire to provide 126 beds, 24 pots, as many pans, 240 spoons, 60 timber dishes, as many timber cups, and 40 timber stoups; to be distribute to the said garrisons conform to the number of men; also to provide coal and candle for the garrisons respective.” Act of the committee of council, Ayr, March 4th, 1678. By an act of the 9th, the commissioners were ordered to furnish the garrisons with necessary provisions, such as meat and drink, and to say at what prices they would agree to do so; but having failed, the committee took the business into their own hands, and ordered the prices to be as follow:—Hay, per stone, 2s. Scots; straw, per threave, 4s.; oats, per boll, 50s. in Carrick—55s. in Kyle; meal, per boll, 5 merks; malt, per boll, £5; cheese, per stone, £1, 10s.; pork, per stone, £1, 16s.; French grey salt, per peck, 10s.—Scots ditto, 5s.; butter, per stone, £2, 8s.; each dozen of eggs, 1s. 4d.; milk, per pint, 1s.; each hen, 4s.; each mutton bulk, £2. These prices, reduced to our currency, at 1s. Scots—1d. sterling; £1 Scots—1s. 8d. sterling,—will show the scarcity of cash in these days, and its relative value to the present prices.

In other villages, the meanest soldiers exacted sixpence sterling a-day, and the guards a shilling or merk Scots; their captains and superior officers, half-crowns and crowns at their discretion, or as they thought the poor people could procure it, threatening to burn their houses about their ears if they did not produce sufficient to answer their demands; besides money, the industrious, sober, religious peasantry were constrained to furnish brandy and tobacco; and, what was scarcely less painful, were obliged to witness their filthy brutal excesses. Then, again, some of the ruffians would levy contributions in order, as they pretended, to secure the payers from plunder; yet, after they had filched them of their money, at their departure rifled them of all they could find the means of transporting. Their insolences to the females, our historians have drawn a veil over, as too abominable to admit of description.

An instance or two of their wanton waste are narrated, from which the extent of the damage occasioned by their visitations, may, in some measure, be guessed at, especially as the perpetrators were not the most savage of the crew, but men from whom better things might have been expected. The Angus-shire troop of gentlemen heritors, or yeomanry cavalry, as they would now be called, commanded by the Laird of Dun, was quartered upon the lands of Cunningham of Cunninghamhead, then a boy at school, who, even by the strictest interpretation of the strictest acts of this detestable period, could not be held liable to such an infliction. Pretending that the country houses, upon which they were billetted, were not sufficiently comfortable for persons of their situation, these genteel troopers obliged the tenants to pay to each five pounds sterling for “dry quarters;” but, after they had received the money, they either remained themselves, or sent three or more footmen of the wildest Highlanders to supply their place. A cornet in this troop, Dunbar of Grange, nephew to the commander, perceiving that the entrance to the old tower of Cunninghamhead was strongly secured by an iron grating before a massy wainscoat door—most likely expecting to find some treasure secreted within—called for the keys that he might open and examine the interior. The keeper being absent, he was told that there was nothing of any consequence in the place, for the second story was used as a granary, and the rest of the building was unoccupied. At this, in great wrath, after abusing the people, he set fire to the door, and blew up the grating with gunpowder. Having forced his way in to the foot of a staircase, after ascending, he found himself opposed by a second stout door upon the girnel, also grated; but full of the hope of plunder, he was not thus to be disappointed, and removed this obstruction in the same summary manner. Sure of the prize, he rushed in with his attendants, all equally eager with himself for a share of the spoil, but they saw nothing except oatmeal, as they had been told, which, in their rage at finding themselves “begunkit,” they either “fyled” with their boots and shoes, all clay from the open field, or scattered about and destroyed, under pretence of searching for arms. The loss to the minor, as the greater part of the rents then were paid in produce, has not been mentioned in money; but as the deed happened in the month of February, the pecuniary value, although then high, might not be equal to the detriment its destruction must have occasioned.

William Dickie, a merchant in Kilmarnock, had nine Highlanders quartered upon him six weeks, during which he was obliged to furnish them with meat and drink, and, not having sufficient accommodation for them in his own house, was forced to pay for “dry quarters,” i. e. good beds, in some other, as were numbers besides. When they went off, they carried away with them several sacks full of household stuff, and goods, and a hose full of silver money; and, before leaving, broke two of the honest man’s ribs—stabbed his wife in the side, who was big with child at the time, and otherwise so terrified her, that she died in consequence.

These were the apostles of Episcopacy! and their employers have even found apologists in our own day; but if they who, by preaching, and prayer, and suffering, attempted to diffuse the knowledge of the gospel in their country, were or are called fanatics, by what epithet shall honest indignation designate the miscreants who could endeavour by such means to obtrude an illiterate, ignorant, dissolute, and shameless priesthood, upon an unoffending, and comparatively uncorrupted, part of the population? It is, however, pleasant to notice that, among the Highland leaders, there were several exceptions. The Marquis of Atholl, and the Earl of Perth, are particularly mentioned as having pled the cause of justice and humanity at the council-board of the committee, though, unhappily, their pleadings were overborne by numbers—and their men comported themselves no better than their comrades.

The whole may be summed up in the words of a contemporary writer, an eyewitness, quoted by Wodrow:—“It is evidently apparent that the proceedings of these few months by-past, are a formed contrivance (if God in mercy prevent not) to subvert all religion, and to ruine and depopulate the country—they are open and evident oppression, public violence, and robbery, and invasion of the person and goods of a free and loyal people—a violation of the ancient rights and privileges of the lieges—and a treacherous raising of hatred and discord ’twixt the king and his subjects—and consequently, manifest treason against the commonwealth and the king’s majesty. In a word, when considered in its full extent, and in all its heinous circumstances, it is a complication of the most atrocious crimes that almost ever could have been conceived or perpetrated.” The losses sustained by the county of Ayr alone, were estimated, in an account intended to be laid before the king if he would have received it, at one hundred and thirty-seven thousand, four hundred and ninety-nine pounds, six shillings, Scots—or eleven thousand, four hundred and fifty pounds sterling; and this being only what could be ascertained and proved, was not supposed to be one-half of the real amount of damage inflicted.

While the Highlanders were plundering openly, the committee were equally busy in their vocation—fining or imprisoning all who came before them, whether upon charges of attending conventicles, or not signing the bond. On the 22d February, the Earl of Cassilis appeared, and resolutely refusing to subscribe what he considered as illegal in itself, and impossible for him to perform, was ordered to answer next day to an indictment accusing him of high crimes and misdemeanours, in frequenting conventicles, or allowing them upon his grounds. His lordship did accordingly appear, and denied upon oath, the truth of the averments in the libel, only, if there had been any conventicles upon his ground, or if his tenants had been at them, he knew nothing but by hearsay, he himself having never seen any such meetings, nor any of his tenants present at them. Immediately upon his refusal to subscribe, although he had cleared himself by oath of all the crimes laid to his charge, the lords appointed a messenger to charge him with letters of law-burrows, to pledge himself in the books of the privy council, that his wife, children, men, tenants, cottars, and servants, should not be present at conventicles, or any other disorderly meetings, under a penalty of double his valued yearly rent; and, in case of failure, he was to be denounced a rebel within six days. Hereupon he wrote to their lordships entreating a week’s delay, but they refused to grant him even this small favour, on which he immediately repaired to Edinburgh to offer the council every satisfaction that could be legally required. But upon his coming thither, a proclamation was issued, commanding all noblemen, heritors, and others of the west country, to depart from the capital, and repair to their own houses within three days, before which time, however, his lordship was actually denounced at the market-cross of Ayr, and a caption issued for apprehending him. In these circumstances to have remained in Scotland without some security, would have been the height of folly, he therefore repaired to London, and having obtained the interset of Monmouth, laid a statement of his case before the king.

Universal as the suffering was in the west, yet so impressed were the people with a belief that the council wished some excuse for their conduct, or some pretext for further severities, that, with a patience unparalleled in history, they quietly endured their accumulated grievances, without giving their oppressors the handle so eagerly desired, and left them only the wretched plea of a rhetorical flourish, by which they designated their quiet assemblies,[[100]] to palliate or justify their atrocious aggressions on the constitution of the country, and the common rights of mankind. Whether the privy council felt this, or whether actuated by the dread of some more serious movement among the nobility, as the Earl of Loudon, the Lords Montgomery, Cathcart, and Bargeny, had also become refractory, it is unnecessary to inquire; but, in the latter end of February, the Highland host were ordered home, and the whole, except a few, returned to their native hills laden with the spoils of their more excellent neighbours.

[100]. Calling them rendezvouses of rebellion, or seminaries of rebellion.

Their march is pictured as the route of successful ravagers returning from the sack of some devoted city. They were loaded with spoil. A great many horses which they had stolen, were burdened with the merchandize swept from the dealers’ shops—webs of linen and woollen cloth; silver-plate, bearing the names and arms of gentlemen; bundles of bedclothes, carpets, men and womens’ wearing-apparel, pots, pans, gridirons, and a great variety of promiscuous articles. Their wary leaders had transmitted home large sums of money previously by safe hands, but some of the retreating parties were not so fortunate with their bulky packages; the river Clyde being swollen when they came to Glasgow, the students at College, assisted by a number of other youths, took possession of the bridge, and allowing only forty to pass at a time, obliged the marauders to deliver up their plunder, and then conveyed them out at the West Port, without suffering them to enter the town. In this manner, about two thousand were eased of their burdens, and the custom-house nearly filled with furniture and clothing, which were restored to their proper owners, as far as could be effected.

Great was the chagrin of the regular clergy at the breaking up of the Highland host. The gospel itself, they said, would depart from the district along with it; for they themselves might leave their parishes whenever they were removed, unless garrisons were settled among them. Garrisons were accordingly appointed; one hundred and twenty foot and forty horse in Blairquhan; fifty foot and ten horse in Barskimming; and as many in Cessnock. But these were deemed insufficient by the presbytery of Ayr, who, seemingly taking fresh alarm at the Earl of Cassilis’ visit to the capital, wrote to the Archbishop of Glasgow, February 28, transmitting to his Grace “their humble opinions of several occurrences. 1st, The great and leading men of this country,” say they, “are all gone into Edinburgh, and expect to be sheltered there; therefore it is fit they be severely dealt with, sought after, and forced to obedience, otherwise the commonalty, who absolutely depend upon them, will never be brought to conformity. 2dly, The indulged ministers must be stinted of their liberty, and some new tie laid upon them, or they absolutely removed; for let people say what they will, most of these disorders flow from them. 3dly, That the leading men of this country now at Edinburgh be not protected by the council, but taken and sent hither; for the committee think their credit highly concerned in it, if after they have been at the pains of prosecuting them this length the council do protect them, it will be a great discouragement to them in their procedure for the future. 4thly, The garrisons appointed here are but three, and too weakly manned, and they are too far from the heart of the shire, and it will be fit two hundred men be left in garrison at Ayr. This is the opinion of your Grace’s most humble and obedient sons in the Lord.”

Roused by this appeal, the archbishop immediately set out to court, carrying with him an address from his subalterns to the same effect—breathing out the same spirit of intolerant and unfounded accusation of the brethren; and, by a species of unblushing falsification, reproaching as persecutors the very men they themselves were persecuting. It is a perfect specimen of jesuitism:—“May it please your most Sacred Majesty: The danger this church is exposed unto in the present circumstances, which are such as threaten the dissolution thereof, hath necessitated us in the discharge of our duty, to desire the Lord Archbishop of Glasgow humbly to address your royal presence, and to offer unto your princely consideration, how inconsistent the violent and irregular courses of those who rent the church, (and prosecute us for no other reason but that of our absolute and entire dependence on your majesty’s authority,) are, with the rights and interests of your majesty’s crown and government, as well as with the safety of your people, and the reverence due to religion, for no other end but that your majesty’s authority may be vindicated and rescued from the persecution of the open disturbers of the church and their abettors, who, for their own ends, endeavour to constrain the people, and to debauch them equally from their loyalty as their religion.” The council had the full countenance of the king; yet still they do not seem to have felt entirely at ease. They therefore sent him a summary account of all their proceedings, with a request that he would grant them his explicit approbation, which they enforced, as they generally did their applications for his support in their extravagant measures, by recalling to his remembrance the steps which had led to the late execrable rebellion, and working upon his fears by marking a resemblance between the present and those unhappy times; hinting, in conclusion, their suspicions that their political rivals were chiefly to be dreaded. “We are fully convinced that the meaner sort would not dare to appear in such open insolences, if they were not encouraged by persons of greater eminency, and who, by how much they are the more considerable, are so much the more to be jaloused: tumultuary rabbles being then only dangerous when they get a head, and when delusions in opinion mix themselves with faction and humorous opposition to authority.” His majesty immediately thanked them very heartily for their careful prosecution of what he had recommended, in calling in his forces and accepting the offers of the Highland noblemen, and expressed himself well pleased that the bond should be offered to all persons and magistrates within the ancient kingdom without exception, approved of the law-burrows and the settled garrisons, and declared that his approbation should have the force of an absolute indemnity and letter of thanks to all in any way concerned in the late expedition to the west, in council, committee, or execution, having very good reason to consider the same as special and necessary service.

Notwithstanding his knowledge of this ample approval given by the king to his council, and fully aware of the dangerous ground upon which he stood, the Earl of Cassilis, with a noble boldness, delivered in writing, under his hand, a true state of his case, March 28, an attested copy of which was sent down by express to the council. A few days after its receipt, they dispatched a long reply, in which they denied the facts, and endeavoured to confute the arguments of his lordship; but craved from his majesty’s justice that the Earl, who had contemned his royal proclamation, and charged his privy council with crimes of so high a nature, might be sent down prisoner to be tried and judged according to law.

Affairs in England at this time did not admit of such prompt measures. The Scottish patriot had engaged some of the English in his cause, who sympathized with his sufferings and those of his country, and the king also, influenced by his favourite Monmouth, either felt or pretended to feel some commiseration. Cassilis was not sent down. The council were still further mortified by the defection of two of the leading nobles, the Marquis of Atholl and the Earl of Perth, when they returned from the west. They not only did not concur in the severe methods going forward, but from what they had observed of the peaceable conduct of the Presbyterians, and the information they had received from some of the noblemen, they could not continue to lend their countenance to the severities so unreasonably exercised against them; nor could they avoid showing their displeasure at the violence of the prelates, so that they were openly accused of favouring conventicles, which now began to multiply in the north and among the Highlands of Perthshire, where they had not formerly been wont to be heard of; and the Bishop of Galloway, who had been sorely annoyed with them, in a visit he had lately paid to that quarter, thus complained to the Lord Register:—“I am surprised to hear of the great and insolent field-conventicles in Perthshire, it being as much influenced by the Marquis of Atholl’s example, as directed by his authority. There is, besides many others, a constant field-conventicle now settled in the confines of some parishes, Methven, Gask, Tippermuir, and another, where it is marvelled that many observe several shoals of Highlanders in their trews, and many bare-legged, flocking thither to propagate the mischief of ‘the good old cause.’ It is to good men no small discouragement that a shire, under the influence and conduct of the Marquis of Atholl and the Earl of Perth, who say they are true sons of the church, should (being formerly orderly and obedient to the laws) become so turbulent and schismatical, especially since the Marquis is sheriff-principal, and one altogether devoted to his lordship is sheriff-depute, of that shire, in whose hands is placed the power to punish and suppress these disorders.”

So far had the expedient of letting loose a band of mountaineers upon the west failed in answering the end proposed by the prelates, that the devastations they had committed, had raised the indignation of many of the nobility and country gentlemen, who were indifferent to religious modes of worship, and averse to all disputes about them; but having heard of the success of the Earl of Cassilis, determined, as they were denied any redress in Scotland, to lay their grievances before the king in person. Accordingly, about the end of March, the Duke of Hamilton, accompanied by the Earls of Roxburgh, Haddington, Loudon, and others—in all about sixteen lords, together with Lieutenant-General Drummond, and upwards of forty of the principal proprietors, breaking through the prohibition, repaired to London; and what was most distressing to the prelates, the Marquis of Atholl and the Earl of Perth, who had been members of the committee of the privy council in the west, likewise went thither.[[101]]

[101]. When these two noblemen, with their servants and some gentlemen, were upon their road in Annandale, they lost their way; and it being late, the two noblemen were obliged to shelter in a cottage in that country. The people having heard somewhat of their errand in going up, were extremely kind to them, wishing them heartily success. When they could not get their horses under lock and key, or perhaps to any house, the noblemen appeared concerned for them, lest they should be stolen, having heard Annandale spoken of for stealing of horses; but the country people told them they were in no hazard, there was no thieving among them since the field-preaching came into that country, and talked of many other branches of reformation wrought among them by Mr Welsh and other preachers. Wodrow, vol. i. p. 507.—Kirkton, from whom Wodrow has borrowed this pleasant little anecdote, adds, “the poor country people talked to the noblemen’s great admiration for the time, but it brought forth but small fruit.” Hist. p. 239.

At first the king would only permit Atholl and Perth to approach his person—the others he refused to see, because they had left Scotland in contempt of a proclamation; but their representation of the mad projects going forward there, made him conclude that certainly Lauderdale’s head was turned; yet neither would he allow him to be blamed, or admit that he had done any thing detrimental to his service. But as he professed his intention of setting the Duke of Monmouth at the head of the Scottish government, he allowed him to act as mediator upon this occasion, and they were at last admitted into the royal presence; the more readily perhaps, as their visit had begun to make a great noise and awakened the jealousy of the English parliament now sitting;—who imagined they saw, in the management of the sister kingdom, a specimen of what they themselves might expect whenever circumtances would permit, and anticipated their own subjection, should Charles establish a despotism there, especially as the Duke of York, whose papistical principles were now openly professed, strongly abetted the cause of the Scottish Episcopal church—a church that gloried in being the daughter of the church of Rome by true lineal descent in the uninterrupted apostolical succession of her bishops,[[102]] and who equalled her in the antichristian persecuting spirit of her priests.

[102]. This was always strenuously contended for by the old non-jurants, who only lately died out here; but is apparently reviving in the Puseyites.

Alarmed at the departure of so many influential personages for London, and at receiving no reply to their former letter, the privy council dispatched the Earl of Murray and Lord Collington to counteract the efforts of their opponents, and carry another epistle to his majesty, complaining of the conduct of those persons, “who, instead of concurring with them, which as sheriffs, and enjoying other responsible offices, they should have done, had, with much noise and observation, gone to England without seeking their license; but they, with humble confidence, expected that his majesty, by his princely care and prudence, would discourage all such endeavours as tended to enervate his royal authority and affront his privy council; and they referred his majesty to their messengers, two of their own number, men of known integrity and ability, who could give him an exact account of what had passed, and resolve such doubts as might occur to the royal mind, which could not be settled so well by letters, and confute such unworthy mis-reports as were raised by others who have choosed a time when his majesty was likely to be engaged in a foreign war, and had assembled his parliament of England.”

After these deputies had reached London, and the various statements of the different parties had been laid before the king, a message was received by the council from him, announcing “that he had considered some representations made by some of his subjects anent the late methods with the west country, with the answers made thereunto and replies, which so fortified the representations, that he resolved to hear and consider things fully, and, in the meantime, commanded that the bond and law-burrows be suspended till his further pleasure be sent, and that all the forces, except his own guards, be immediately disbanded.” Astonished at receiving such a command, when they expected to have got Cassilis sent down prisoner as they had requested, they could not conceal their disappointment and chagrin. In a reply which they transmitted by Sir George Mackenzie, who was instantly sent off to aid in advocating their cause, they say—“You know how much all were inclined to give the council ready obedience till these noblemen interested themselves in the phanatical quarrel; how ready all were to concur in assisting his majesty both with their own tenants and militia; and, which is very remarkable, how ready the gentry and heritors in every shire were to rise, between sixty and sixteen, which, in shewing how all ways were taken and owned for assisting the royal authority, did strike a just terror in all those who were refractory; whereas now, the numbers and humorousness of those who are gone up has done all they could to loose all the foundations of authority here to such a height, as will soon grow above correction, if it be not speedily, vigorously, and openly adverted to by his majesty.”

Charles himself seems to have been not a little perplexed at the unexpected step of the Scottish nobles. What had been done in Scotland was unauthorized by any law, and unjustifiable upon any principle of good government, but it was agreeable to the despotic propensities of the heartless sovereign; and he was constantly wavering between the harsh measures most congenial to his disposition, and the milder plans he was occasionally obliged to adopt—sending orders one day to disband the troops and dismantle the garrisons—the next, ordering new troops to be raised and other garrisons to be planted, till Sir George Mackenzie arrived. Shortly after his arrival, the king was prevailed upon to give a hearing to the Duke of Hamilton and his friends, whose ranks were now much thinned, both their patience and purses being nearly worn out by their long detention. An account of the interview has been preserved, written by one who was present, which, as it is the only authentic document we have, and not being long, I the rather insert:—

“Upon the 25th of May, the king commanded the Duke of Hamilton, Lord Cochrane, Sir John Cochrane, and Lieutenant-General Drummond, to attend upon him at four of the clock, when they appeared. The king being accompanied by the Duke of York, Duke of Monmouth, and the treasurer, desired to know what they had to say—why they had come to him contrary to his proclamation? The Duke of Hamilton spoke first and said, he humbly begged to know the reason why he had got some marks of his majesty’s displeasure, and that since he came here (to London) he had not the common privilege of subjects, not being admitted to kiss his majesty’s hand. The king replied, he would first know what were the things they had to complain of? and he would take his own time to answer his first request. The Duke said, the chief encouragement he had to come and make known his oppression was that which his majesty said to him when last here, which was, that when he was in any way wronged he should come to himself and make it known; and that now he could not but come since he and others were so much wronged.

“And then there was an account given of the whole affair of the bringing down of the Highlanders, of quartering, plundering our lands, of having a bond offered which was both illegal and impracticable, of being charged with law-burrows, of being denounced thereupon, and of the proclamation forbidding us to acquaint the king with our condition. All these were particularly insisted upon at great length. To which the king returned, that these were horrid things, and desired we might set them down in paper. The treasurer said, that whatever was in these free-quarterings and in the rest, they might have been prevented by taking of the bond, which he conceived there was law for the imposing of, and might be very well kept, for there were two alternatives in the bond, viz. either to deliver them prisoners, or to put them from their land. To which it was replied, there was no law obliging masters to apprehend their tenants; and the furthest the act of parliament went was, in the year 1670, to oblige masters for their families and servants. 2dly, That masters could not be obliged to turn their tenants out of their lands in regard that the punishment for going to a conventicle was statute already to be a fine, much less in proportion than the turning them out of their possessions; besides, most part of the tenants have tacks by which, during their time, they had good right to their possessions, and could not by their masters be turned out for a crime that, by the law, was only finable, and had no such certification as losing their possessions.

“The conference having been held two hours, there was a good deal said to and fro, and the king fully and freely informed. The conclusion of the debate was, the king told us he could not judge of what we had said, unless we would give it under our hands, that he might consult thereanent with his council, and know what they had to say for themselves, and could advise him to. It was answered, that we came to his majesty to give an information of what wrongs and oppressions were done to the country, hoping his majesty would examine and redress them, but not to give in any accusation against the council, which we knew, by law, was very dangerous, unless his majesty would indemnify for it, which the king refusing to do, they told him they could insist no farther, but leave it to him to do as he thought fit. The king offered to go out of the room, and the Duke of Hamilton kneeling, begged the favour of his hand; but his majesty declined it, and said he would consider upon and give an answer to what had been said, and went away.[[103]]

[103]. When the Duke of Hamilton got into his presence, the king kept his hands behind his back, lest perchance the Duke should snatch a kiss of them! And when the Duke came to make his complaint upon the bad government of Scotland, the king answered him with taunts, and bid him help what was amiss when he were king of Scotland; and this was all. Kirkton, p. 393.

“There were many particulars spoken to, wherewith the king seemed to be moved, acknowledging there were overdoings and several things done upon prejudice at particular persons; but still, when he came this length, the Lord-Treasurer interrupted, and gave some other turn to matters, otherwise ’tis thought there would a more favourable answer have been given. The king signified that he was certainly informed that there was a rebellion designed in Scotland, but he would take care the actors in it should be the losers by it. He endeavoured much to assure us that, albeit we had not come to London, there would not have been any caption executed against us upon the law-burrows.”

Dismissed with flattering promises, the nobles were not deceived; and although they brought away with them the “word of a prince,” they knew its value too well to place much confidence in it. Nor did the conduct of the king belie their forebodings. Three days after this conference, he addressed to the managers in Scotland, a letter, the third of the kind, containing his full approval of their proceedings; and “that the rather, because, after trial taken by Us, we find that such as complained refused to sign any complaint against these proceedings as illegal,” and added, in order to prevent any future application, that he was highly dissatisfied with such as had caused these clamours, and “would on all occasions proceed according to our laws against such as endeavour to lese our prerogative and oppose our laws and our privy council.”

No sooner was there the least appearance of any relaxation in the execution of the severe acts, than the ministers and people returned with renewed alacrity to their meetings; and at this juncture, as there was a very general impression that the men in power were sympathizing with them, the consequence was, that conventicles again multiplied, especially in Fife and East Lothian. At the same time, the regular clergy were more upon the alert. The military, too, were always in readiness, and sometimes skirmishes ensued, in which the soldiers occasionally were beat off.

Early in May, a large conventicle having convened on the flat at Whitekirk, opposite the Bass, the deputy-governor who had received notice of it, came upon the meeting with about forty soldiers and some twenty country people, whom they forced along with them. When they came near, the people resolved to sit close and stay upon the place, and offer no violence to the soldiers, unless they disturbed them; but in that case they resolved to defend themselves. The soldiers came up and commanded the people to dismiss in the king’s name. Some who were next to them answered, they honoured the king, but were resolved to hear the word of God when preached to them; at which one of the soldiers struck a man that was nearest him, whereupon a strong countryman with a staff knocked the soldier to the ground. When they were thus engaged, a kind of general scuffle ensued. One of the soldiers was shot, and others disarmed and dismissed unhurt, though they had seized and sent off to Haddington two of the persons assembled at the conventicle. A few days after, several other persons were apprehended for having been present, from among whom five were selected to stand trial before the Justiciary Court at Edinburgh for the murder. Of these, three were dismissed, but two, James Learmont and Robert Temple, were brought to the bar; when it was urged against the relevancy of the indictment, that “simple presence” in a crowd, where upwards of a thousand persons were assembled, could constitute no crime; and it was offered to be proved that the prisoners came to the place unarmed, or did not use arms; and not only this, but it was also offered to be proved that others who had escaped, and were declared fugitives, were seen to strike the deceased with swords and halberts. Yet the lords decided that presence at unlawful meetings or field-conventicles with arms, at which slaughter was committed, or giving counsel or command, were sufficient, and the case was remitted to the jury to pronounce upon the proof. It was distinctly sworn by two witnesses that they saw James Learmont at the meeting unarmed, but heard him say—“Let no cowards be here to-day; but let such as have arms go out to the foreside;” and, after having viewed the advancing party, cry out—“They be but few, let there be no cowards.” Another swore that he saw William Temple, with a sword under his arm, but not drawn. The jury found the panels guilty as libelled; but the lords of Justiciary not being quite clear about the business, requested the opinion of the privy council, who, after considering the process, deputed four of their number—Murray, Linlithgow, Ross, and Collington, to express their satisfaction with the whole procedure, and recommended that justice should be speedily executed upon the said panels. Such, however, was the even-handed justice of these days, that a remission of the punishment came to the one who had been proven to be at the conventicle with a sword, while the unarmed hearer of the gospel was sent to the gallows. But the good man died in great peace, declaring his adherence to the truth as stated in the Confession of Faith, and to the despised way of preaching the gospel and receiving the sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper from lawfully ordained and called ministers of the gospel, who were forced to the fields because of persecution from those who were never friends to the church of Christ—these lords prelates who lord it over the Lord’s inheritance. He solemnly declared himself free of the blood of all men, especially the blood of the man for which he was unjustly condemned, and looked forward to that day wherein the righteous Judge will judge again, when he makes inquisition for blood, and will call to account all the blood shed of the saints that is dear in his sight; “before whom,” added he, “I am to appear immediately, and hope to receive the sentence, well done faithful servant, enter into your master’s joy, though not by my merit, but through the merit and purchase of Christ.”

Learmont was a chapman, or pedlar, at that time a respectable employment in Scotland, and appears, like many of his calling, to have been pretty extensively known, which had provoked the peculiar enmity of Sharpe so much, that, when the jury at first brought in a verdict of not guilty, he was not satisfied, and the jury were sent back. A second time they returned the same verdict, when he instigated the Lord Advocate to threaten them with an assize of error, though Mackenzie seldom needed any prompter on such occasions, which prevailed upon them at last to bring in a verdict more agreeable to the blood-thirsty pair.[[104]]

[104]. Fountainhall’s Decis. vol. i. p. 13. Wodrow says, “some papers before me say he was once assoilzied by the jury; but Bishop Sharpe being peremptory he must die, moved the Advocate to threaten them with the utmost severity; and at length they were prevailed with to bring him in guilty.” Hist. vol. i. p. 521.—Learmont himself, in a large paper left behind him, declares—“My blood lyeth at the Bishop of St Andrew’s door, to stand against him; for since I received this sentence of death, it hath been frequently brought to my ears, that he pressed the king’s advocate to take my life.” “And now in my last words, after the example of my Lord and master, I here most freely, before I go hence, say, ‘Father, forgive them.’” Naphtali, p. 450.—Nine years after, a person upon his deathbed owned to a minister who visited him, a few hours before his death, that he was the person who killed the soldier, which he did in self-defence, and to save the life a neighbour. Learmont was in no ways concerned or present at it. Wodrow, vol. i. p. 523.

Increasing severities on the part of their rulers produced increasing precautions on the part of the persecuted, who were firmly persuaded that it was the will of God and their duty to hear his word and endeavour to induce others to hear also—that no human power could release them from the sacred obligations of their oath to God, ratified by acts of the legislature, unanimously passed, and sworn to by king, parliament, and people. They therefore, in obedience to these obligations, and these acts, came now in greater numbers armed to their meetings, to defend themselves and their preachers; and even those who had at first opposed resistance to their oppressors began to relax.

Among a people trained to judge and reason for themselves, it was not easy to settle the disputed questions, Who were the violators of the law?—those who had overthrown and trampled under foot the constitution of the country? or those who obeyed and were determinately upholding it? Could the circumstance of minority or majority change the nature or loosen the bonds of religious, moral, and legal obligation? Did these depend upon numbers, riches, or power? Politicians may answer yes; people may temporise where to resist would involve a community, or part of a community, in an unequal or apparently hopeless contest—they may pay for the support of an established hierarchy, which they do not approve, because it may be dangerous to attack it—they may accept office under a government, coupled with restrictions discordant to man’s natural right to worship God according to conscience, because obedience is gainful or expedient;—but these worthies judged differently, they considered what they thought duty, national and personal, irrevocable and imperative; and they left the consequences to the providence of God.

Mr Blackadder, invited again to Fife, lodged at Inchdarnie’s—then the head-quarters of the higher ranks among the covenanters in that district—together with his son Robert, Bailie Haddoway, and Mr, afterwards Colonel, Cleland. On Sabbath morning he was escorted to Divan, eight miles off. When he came, he observed a number of arms piled in order on the ground, guns and fowling-pieces, about the number of fifty, which, when he saw, he asked, “what meant all this preparation? Trust rather in Jehovah, and the shield of omnipotence.” They told him the reason, that Prelate Sharpe had ordered to draw a hundred and five men out of the militia, to be a standing company, on purpose to search for and apprehend ministers who should venture within his bounds. This and the like violence was the thing that soon brought him to his end, and constrained peaceable folk to come in arms, after long suffering and provocation. About the middle of the communion, an alarm arose that the militia were advancing their whole company. Burleigh stepped out presently and drew up a party of the left horse, such as he could find, and went forth to view the militia, who were within two miles of the place. Suspecting that the meeting might be in a posture of defence, they had halted on a brae-side until both sermons should be ended, that they might make a prey of the people dismissing. When all the congregation were removed, except the minister’s body-guard, a new alarm came that the soldiers were at hand. Upon this Kinkel and Burleigh, with a few horse, rode up the face of the hill, where the militia had advanced with the hope of getting plunder, and making prisoners of the hindermost. Also the foot, young men, who had their guns, and were on their way homeward, did resolutely return and join the horse, which altogether made a party between thirty and forty. The lads on foot were drawn up beside the cavalry, such as they were. The military with their officers were marching fast up, expecting their prey, but halted when they perceived the party. Haddoway and Cleland rode down to have spoken and asked their intentions; but ere they came near, the militia wheeled about for marching off, if they might. The footmen came up sweating with their muskets, and were drawn up on the flanks, making a tolerable troop.

But the militia, terrified at all this apparatus, scarcely looking over their shoulder, fled to Cupar in a dismal fear. The Presbyterian horsemen would gladly have had orders to break after them, which if they had done, it is said the prelatists had resolved to throw down their arms and surrender at mercy. But the minister did calmly dissuade them from it. “My friends, your part is to defend yourselves from hazard, and not to pursue: your enemies have fled—let their flight sheath your weapons and disarm your passions. I may add without offence, that men in your case are more formidable to see at a distance than to engage hand to hand. But since you are in a warlike and defensive posture, remain so, at least till your brethren be all dismissed. Conduct them through their enemies, and be their safeguard until they get beyond their reach; but except in case of violence, offer injury to none.” When the militia had entered Cupar, the party rode off quietly. About nine guarded Mr Blackadder to his quarters, which was at an inn in the parish of Portmoak. On Monday he returned with his friends to Edinburgh.

Next week, another remarkable communion was held at Irongray, Dumfries-shire, when Mr Welsh presided at the earnest desire of his old parishioners, who had resolved to make this public avowal of their attachment to the cause of Christ, at the peril of all they held dear on earth; thither also Mr Blackadder resorted. On Thursday, he took horse from Edinburgh, accompanied by his wife and son Robert, who wished to see their relations and join on the occasion, such a thing being so rare to them. As they rode on their way by Leadhills towards Enterkin and Nithsdale, they found the roads covered with people, some on horse, others on foot. A company of eighty horse, whereof many were respectable gentlemen from Clydesdale, and well appointed with regular officers, had marched down Enterkin-path in good order a little before him. They were all reasonably well accoutred. He entered into conversation with many groups of people, and advised them all to behave with sobriety and decorum. The party of Clydesdale horse, when they were down the brae of Enterkin, which was a large mile, drew up and fell into rank at the foot of the path, and marched in good order all along Nithsdale, till they came to Cluden-water, which was much swollen by the rain. They rode through directly to Irongray parish, where they took up their quarters, and kept outwatches and sentinels all night. The men on foot came after, and took up their lodgings where they could most conveniently, and as near the horse as possible. They told that the Earl of Queensberry was on his road to Edinburgh, and had met several companies of them.

Mr Blackadder and his company took the route to Caitloch, where he stayed that night. Here their numbers were increased to a great concourse. On Saturday morning, they marched from Caitloch to the cross of Meiklewood, a high place in Nithsdale, about seven miles above Dumfries. This he understood was to be the rendezvous of the congregation. Here they had a commanding view of the whole country, and could not be taken by surprise. On the one hand, the hills of Dalswinton and all the higher ground of Kirkmahoe, lay within reach of the eye, as far as the braes of Tinwald and Torthorwald. The range of the Galloway hills lay on the west, all the passes of which could be distinctly seen. No sudden change could surprise them from the south, as the flat holms of the Nith were visible for many miles. When Mr Blackadder reached the place, he found a large assembly had collected. He opened the service from these words, 1 Cor. xi. 24. “Do this in remembrance of me.” His two chief points were—That the ceremony was not left arbitrary to the church, but was under a peremptory command from Christ himself. This remembrance was to be renewed from time to time as seasons would permit; and their divine Master’s command was still in force, though men had inhibited and discharged them. Secondly, The end of the institution, why it ought to be frequently celebrated or administered; and what was especially to be commemorated.

Mr Welsh preached in the afternoon, and intimated the communion to take place next day on a hill-side in Irongray, about four miles distant, as it was judged convenient and more safe to shift their ground. He durst not mention the name of the place particularly, lest enemies might get notice and be before them; but none failed to discover it. Early on Sabbath morning, the congregation sat down on the Whitehill in Irongray, about three miles above Dumfries. The meeting was very numerous, greater than at East Nisbet, being more gentlemen and strangers from far and near. Mr Arnot, late minister of Tongland, lectured in the morning, and Mr Welsh preached the action-sermon, which was his ordinary. The rest of the ministers exhorted and took their turn at the table-service. The whole was closed in the evening without disturbance. It was a cloudy and gloomy day, the sky lowering and often threatening showers, but the heavy clouds did not break, but retained their moisture, as it were to accommodate the work; for ere the people got to their houses and quarters, there fell a great rain which that night waxed the waters, and most of them had to pass through both the Cairn and the Cluden.

The Earl of Nithsdale, a papist, and Sir Robert Dalzell of Glenae, a great enemy to these meetings, had some of their ill-set domestics there, who waited on and heard till the time of the afternoon sermon, and then slipt away. At the time of dismissing there arose a cry and alarm that the dragoons were approaching, whereupon the Clydesdale men instantly took to horse and formed. The gentlemen of Galloway and Nithsdale took no posture of defence at first, as they did not intend it until they saw imminent hazard. But seeing the motions of the Clydesdale men, they thought it necessary to do the like. Gordon, the Laird of Earlstone, who had been a captain in the former wars, now drew up a large troop of Galloway horse. Another gentleman of Nithsdale, who had also been a captain of horse, mustered up a troop of cavalry from the holms of Kirkmahoe and about the Nith. Four or five companies of foot, with their officers, were ready equipped for action; and all this was done in the twinkling of an eye, for the people were willing and resolute. Videttes and single horsemen were despatched to various quarters, to keep a good look out. The report brought in was, that they had only heard a rumour of them being in the country, but could not inform themselves if any were near at hand, or any stir in that immediate neighbourhood. After remaining in that defensive posture for three hours, the body of the people dispersed to their quarters, each division accompanied with a guard of foot and horse. In houses, barns, and empty places, most of them got accommodated in a sort of way, within a mile or two’s distance. They had mostly provided themselves both for board and lodging, and the ministers were hospitably received at the houses.

The night was rainy, but watches were kept notwithstanding. As a point of prudence, no intimation was given where the Monday’s meeting was to be kept; this was not generally known, except to the ministers. The tent was next day erected on another hill-side near the head of the parish, three or four miles from the place of the Sabbath meeting. The people seemed nothing diminished in numbers on account of the alarm, or the unpropitious state of the weather. The horse and foot, as usual, drew round about the congregation, the horse being outermost. Mr Blackadder closed this day from Heb. xiii. 1. “Let brotherly love continue;” and, notwithstanding the alarm, he continued three weeks preaching up and down in that country.

About the end of harvest, the last and largest out-door communion that ever had been in Scotland, was celebrated at Colmond, in Ayrshire. Many came in their best furniture and posture of defence, expecting violence, as the council had got notice of it—there was a great number of ministers officiating—but all the people dismissed in peace. Other conventicles did not escape so easily. One kept at the house of the Williamwood, in the parish of Cathcart, Renfrewshire, where Mr John Campbell and Mr Matthew Crawford had preached, was dispersed by a party of dragoons, who took sixty men prisoners, and plundered a great number of women of their plaids, bibles, and whatever else they had worth carrying away.[[105]]

[105]. The minutes of privy council inform us how the booty so honourably acquired on these occasions was disposed of. “The lords of his majesty’s privy council ordain Captain Buckham” to advertise on Sabbath next at the parish of Calder, “certain horses and plaids found by him and his party on dissipating the late conventicle; with certification, if the persons to whom they doe belong will not owne and come and receive them back againe that day eight days, they will be disposed upon; and in case they be not owned, the saids lords ordains the said Captain Buckham to sell and dispose thereupon at the best availl for the use of the party.” Memoirs of Bryson, published by Dr M’Crie, p. 282, note. The Doctor quaintly adds, “Few owners, it is to be presumed, would make their appearance to claim these lost goods.”

Affairs were now drawing to a crisis. Outward troubles were accumulating, while, unfortunately, the intestine divisions were also on the increase. “Such,” reports one of the “outted” ministers themselves, “as were in the fields found it difficult, amid the jarring tempest of opinions, to give an advice. The majority were of opinion that the times called more for meekness and patience, than any warlike enterprise; and that it was better to continue under suffering until they had clearer revelation than use carnal weapons of their own; for at this time there were several sticklers in the west stirring up the people underhand, amusing them with designs to rise in arms, though there was no such joint resolution, for any thing I know, either among gentry or ministers, nor the most pious, solid, and grave among the yeomen.” Nevertheless, the country was generally ripening for some explosion; and it says little for the gentlemen that they did not watch the movements of the community, as they might have directed them into more peaceable channels; but their posterity have reason to thank their coolness or timidity, as any arrangement with the then government could only have been based upon allowing a preponderance to the crown, which even a revolution might not have been able to impair. Mr Robert Hamilton, brother to Sir William Hamilton of Preston, esteemed a pious man and of good intentions, but of narrow views and severe in his temper—obstinate and opinionative withal—stepped forward while they stood back—held meetings in the country, and also at Edinburgh, during this summer, for establishing a general correspondence; but all this without acquainting the ministers or gentlemen, who were in better capacity to manage the business.[[106]]

[106]. Notices of James Ure, p. 452. Memoirs of Rev. John Blackadder, p. 224. Wodrow, vol. i. p. 520, &c.

In the midst of these commotions, a convention was summoned, and Lauderdale appointed to preside as Commissioner; for he did not choose to face a parliament.[[107]] Exaggerated reports of the “armed conventicles” had been carefully transmitted to the king; and his early prejudices and fears, arising naturally enough from the fate of his father, and his own papistical education, rendered him an easy tool in the hands of the apostates and prostitutes by whom he was surrounded, who, flattering his baser propensities and humouring his tyrannical inclinations, held him in the veriest bondage, while he imagined himself despotic and free! Lauderdale and his associates, the Scottish prelatists, rendered this criminal carelessness of Charles subservient to their own purposes. Their usual mode was to get letters drawn out in his name by some of their accomplices at court, and presented to the king for his signature, which being speciously written, they obtained in common without difficulty. These they could produce as his own authority, warranting the most outrageous of their own measures, and as arguments for every fresh encroachment upon the constitutional freedom of the people, which their suspicions supposed necessary to protect them from the consequences of their crimes. They had long wished for a standing army. Charles had seen its efficacy in France. The present was reckoned a proper time for procuring this royal defence of order in Scotland. His majesty therefore wrote to his right trusty and well beloved councillors, informing them that, after the full and satisfactory information he had received from the lords they had sent to court, he “again” approved of their proceedings and care, and assured them of his favour, assistance, and protection upon all occasions. “And for the more effectual demonstration thereof,” the royal epistle went on to say, “We find it necessary to signify to you, and by you to our people, that we are firmly resolved to own and assert our authority, so as it may equally encourage you and discourage all such as by seditious practices endeavour to asperse you and lessen our authority and prerogative. And finding by good information that the phanatics there expecting encouragement from such as oppose you, and taking advantage of the present juncture of affairs here,[[108]] have of late, with great insolence, flocked together in open and field-conventicles, these rendezvouses of rebellion, and have dared to oppose our forces. Though we neither need nor do fear such insolent attempts, yet from a just care of our authority and kindness to our subjects there, We have thought fit to order some more forces to be levied; and for that effect we have commanded the lords of our treasury for raising and maintaining these troops at our charges.”

[107]. A convention differed from a parliament in this—it was summoned for one specific purpose, and could not interfere with any thing else—in general, only to grant money. Nor does it appear that although they could authorize the levying a subsidy from the subject, that they had any right to look after its management by the crown; the delegates to a convention, also, were generally nominated by persons in power.

[108]. Referring to the popish plot which about this time agitated the English nation and parliament.

Agreeably to this communication, a proclamation was issued, convoking a convention, the bare-faced irony of which would be ludicrous, did not its wickedness of purpose excite other and rather more unpleasant sensations. In it he repeated his fulsome, because false, protestations of the great kindness he bore to his ancient kingdom; “and considering that all kings and states did carefully secure themselves and their people by providing against all such foreign invasions and intestine commotions as might make them a prey to their enemies; and that it was not a fit time that Scotland alone should remain without defence, especially when these execrable field-conventicles, so justly termed rendezvouses of rebellion, did still grow in numbers and insolence, against which all our present forces would not in reason be thought a suitable security. Therefore he called a convention of the estates of that kingdom, to meet at Edinburgh upon the 26th of June, to provide for the safety of the kingdom, by enabling him to raise more forces.”

During the absence of almost all the nobles and influential men who had gone with them to London, and from whom any formidable opposition could have arisen, Lauderdale’s friends hurried on the elections, so that when the convention met, he was possessed of an obedient and overwhelming majority. Eager to evince their loyalty, the chosen band declaring themselves the echoes of the public voice, “and considering the many frequent and renewed professions to serve his majesty with their lives and fortunes, in the maintenance of his honour and greatness; and that now there was an opportunity offered to them, to make good their professions of their zeal, duty, and affection;” “and to let the world see the unanimous affection of his ancient kingdom for the maintenance of his majesty’s royal greatness, authority, and government in church and state, as established by the laws of the kingdom, they did humbly beseech that his majesty would be graciously pleased to accept the unanimous, ready, and cheerful offer, and humble tender, of a new supply of eighteen hundred thousand pounds, Scots, to be raised and paid in five years, according to the present valuations.”[[109]] The act was very unpalatable to the country generally, as they viewed not only the army as the ready instrument of tyranny, but as a reward to the servile party who supported Lauderdale, and to the prelatists who alone would obtain for their poor relations and friends commissions in the army, and share among themselves the donations of the convention.

[109]. The monthly assessments of six thousand pounds introduced by Cromwell, were retained, and are still observed as the rate at which the land-tax is imposed. Laing, vol. iv. p. 93. The sum, therefore, here voted, was in our money £30,000 per ann. for five years, and might be in real about five times the nominal value. The number of militia to be drawn at this time, was one-fourth part of the whole, 5000 foot and 500 horse—the pay, six shillings, Scots, ilk day for the foot; eighteen shillings, Scots, for each horseman.

With the Presbyterians, its tendency was disastrous. Payment of cess became a new and bitter source of contention among the already too much divided sufferers. As the object for which the money was to be raised, was expressly stated to be for the suppression of conventicles; or, as the most strenuous opponents of the measure justly interpreted it, for preventing the preaching of the gospel, they at once, and without circumlocution, declared it unlawful to submit in any manner to the exaction. The impositions of tyrants, enacted for promoting their wicked designs against religion and liberty, said they, are iniquitous; therefore it is improper to pay them, especially when these designs are particularly specified and openly avouched in the acts which require them. No act can be binding if imposed upon a people by persons calling themselves their representatives, when they are not truly so, but placed in their situations by those who have broken all their engagements, betrayed their country, its religion, liberty, property, and all private interests, have enslaved the nation, and, by means of these taxations, will be enabled to perpetuate that slavery. Should it be replied, ‘that Christ paid custom, lest he should offend, and taught us to render to Cesar the things that are Cesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s;’ it is sufficient to observe, that he never taught to give any thing to Cesar in prejudice to that which is God’s; nor would it be much less than blasphemy to say, that Christ would have paid, or permitted his followers to pay, a tax professedly imposed for levying a war against himself, banishing his gospel out of the land, and supporting the scribes and pharisees and their underlings in their wicked attempts against his disciples.

Others were of opinion that, as the money would be forcibly taken from them, it was more adviseable to submit at once, rather than by resistance to give their oppressors a legal pretence for not only seizing to the amount of the tax, but perhaps double, in the name of expenses; and as the deed was neither spontaneous, nor willingly performed, the constrained action would come under the head of suffering rather than of crime.

A third party chose a middle course, and paid it with a declaratory explanation or protest. Among these was Quintin Dick, portioner in Dalmellington, described by Wodrow as an eminent Christian, and prudent, wise, and knowing, far above most of his education and station, who thus expresses himself:—“In this hour of darkness, being much perplexed how to carry without scandal and offence, I betook myself to God for protection and direction, that I might be kept from any measure of denying Christ or staving off my trouble upon any grounds but such as might be clearly warranted by the word of God. After much liberty in pouring out my heart to God, I was brought to weigh, that, as my paying of it might be by some interpreted a scandal and a sinful acquiescence in the magistrate’s sinful command; so, on the other hand, my refusing to pay it would be the greater scandal, being found to clash against a known command of God, of giving to all their due, tribute to whom tribute is due; custom to whom custom is due; and knowing that Jesus Christ for that very same end, to evite offence, did both pay tribute himself and commanded his followers to do it, I could see no way to refuse payment of that cess, unless I had clashed with that command of paying tribute unto Cesar. So, to evite the scandal of compliance on the one hand, and disobedience to the magistrate in matters of custom on the other, I came to the determination to give in my cess to the collector of the shire of Ayr where I lived, with a protestation against the magistrate’s sinful qualification of his commands, and a full adherence unto these meetings of God’s people, called conventicles, which in the act he declared his design to bear down. I had no sooner done this, but I was trysted with many sharp censures from many hands, among which this was one, that my protestation was only to evite sufferings, and could be of no weight, being ‘protestatio contraria facto.’ But being truly persuaded that it is the magistrate’s right to impose and exact cess and custom, I could have no clearness to state my sufferings in opposition unto so express a command of God. And as to the magistrate’s sinful qualification—having so openly declared and protested against it—I conceive the censure of this to evite suffering is altogether groundless; seeing the enemy has (subscribed with my hand before witnesses) a resolute adherence to that which they say this tends to overthrow; and if he mind to persecute upon the ground of owning conventicles, he has a fair and full occasion against me under my hand.”

A few defended the refusal of payment upon the ground that the convention having been a packed assemblage, consisting of persons entirely under the influence of the crown—the chief and most powerful Peers being necessarily absent, and the commissioners of the shires and burghs returned through the sinful means of corruption and bribery, by promises held out and favours bestowed, by the managers and persons in power, for the purpose of compassing their own base ends—they could not be considered as the real representatives of the people, nor legally entitled to impose burdens upon the lieges; and therefore the people were not righteously obligated to pay.

Combined with the disputes relative to paying cess, were revived with redoubled vigour the discussions anent hearing the indulged; and “it was truly grievous to us,” laments one who was himself a silent observer of what passed, “to see a young generation, endued with great zeal towards God and his interests, so far led aside in the improvement of it, as very little to know, or seldom to be taught, meekness and patience under affliction for Christ’s sake, or charity and mutual forbearance in love! And to such a length did these heats come, that some did not stick to term the famous Mr John Welsh, because he would not run so high upon public, yea personal, acknowledgments of those steps of defection, an Achan in the camp.”

Publications and preaching against each other succeeded, and the minds of the wanderers began to be imbittered against the indulged, who they thought were sitting at ease in Zion, while they were combating upon the high places of the field. Another meeting of ministers was therefore held at Glasgow in the end of harvest, when fresh efforts were made by the aged veterans of the kirk to heal the wounds under which their common mother lay bleeding; the more distressing as inflicted by some of the most devoted of her sons. A new and practical cause of dissension arose from the circumstances of the times and the situation in which the preachers and people were placed, which struck at the root of Presbytery itself, and that was the conduct of the younger brethren. As the duties of presbyteries and synods had been interrupted, the most popular preachers and their followers acted entirely upon their own responsibility, invaded the parishes of the indulged, preached as they listed, without being subject to any inspection or control, and had thus widened the unhappy rent, and given great advantage to the common enemy. The meeting disapproved of the practice of promiscuous preaching, any where or every where, as opportunities presented, because, when they intruded on the parishes of the indulged, they destroyed both the usefulness of their brethren, whose charges they disturbed, and their own, by depriving both of the restricted liberty they enjoyed, and which it was their duty to improve.

Instead, they recommended that the whole of the “outted” ministers, and those who had been regularly licensed by them, should associate themselves together in classes, and that every fixed preacher should belong to some class to which he should be subject and responsible; and those who were unsettled, and so could not ordinarily attend their own class or pseudo-presbytery, should attend such other as providence did direct. They at the same time disapproved of the last meeting at Edinburgh, being considered as an authoritative meeting, and pronounced it to have been only “a committee for consideration, and to report overtures to the general meeting of correspondents, who they were to call upon occasion.” Nevertheless, they were still of opinion, that the first foundation of unity must be order, and that there is no other way of producing a humble contrite temper, warming the already too much estranged affections, and preventing the like or worse for the future, than that the brethren who were moderate and like-minded, and who, they blessed God, were yet the very far greater and better number, should meet together and consult upon fit means for so desirable an end. The west country ministers mentioned, likewise, that they were in consultation with their brethren in the east, who had been treating with them, and who were also breathing after unity and peace.

What broke up these friendly communings, does not distinctly appear; but a very untoward circumstance took place in the parish of Monkland, near Glasgow, which certainly did not tend to promote their object. On Sabbath, September 1st, the Rev. Mr Selkirk, afterwards minister of the gospel at Crichton, had been requested by the ministers of Glasgow to supply that parish, then vacant; but when he attempted it, he was violently opposed and kept out of the church by force, merely because he was favourable to the indulged, on purpose that one of the young preachers under the patronage of Mr Robert Hamilton, might have access to the pulpit to inveigh against them.

Were it not upon record, and recorded too by authority of the oppressors themselves, it would hardly be credited that many of the best and most inoffensive men in the country were banished and sold as slaves to the plantations, for no crime but simply because they would not regularly attend their parish churches to hear men preach, whom they believed incapable of instructing them in those duties which they saw themselves daily outraging; and choosing rather to assemble in the fields to wait upon the ministry of others whom they preferred, by whose discourses they were enlightened and edified, taught to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world, and directed in those paths which lead to glory and immortality in the next. Yet nearly one hundred persons, upon such accusations, writers! farmers, merchants, men and women, were delivered over, in the month of June this year, to Edward Johnstoun, master of the Saint Michael of Scarborough, now lying at Leith, for behoof of Ralph Williamson of London, who had given security to the council to transport them to the Indies, where they were to continue in servitude for life, and there to dispose of them to the best advantage. Among these was the noted Alexander Peden, who had laboured with great success in the north of Ireland. Having lain a long time in Edinburgh jail, he petitioned the council to be permitted to return to his old station, especially as he had been served with no indictment, nor was he charged with holding either house or field-conventicles in Scotland for twelve years. The council evinced their character by their tender mercies. They answered his petition by banishing him to the plantations for life, and ordained him “to lie in prison till he be transported.” He was said to have been an instrument of much good to his fellow-passengers, and cheered their spirits with the hopes of deliverance when they reached London.[[110]]

[110]. “Mr Peden was a man of prayer, of natural sagacity, of spiritual discernment, and a great observer of the ways of Providence. He could foresee what would be the result of certain measures, and what calamities foolish and wicked men would bring upon themselves and others; and when such things came to pass as he had foretold, his too credulous friends ascribed it to the gift of prophecy. At the same time, I am not so wedded to my opinion on this subject, as not to admit that men who lived in such intimate daily communion with God as Mr Peden did, may have had presentiments of things with regard to themselves and the church, of which Christians of a lesser growth can form no conception.”—M’Gavin’s note to the Scots Worthies, p. 516.

They were detained at sea five days longer than had been calculated upon; and when they arrived, Mr Williamson who should have received them was absent. Johnstoun, who had the charge of their maintenance when there, not knowing how he was to be reimbursed, and not being able to find any body to take them off his hands, nor seeing any prospect of the agent, set them ashore, and left them to shift for themselves. The English, who sympathized much with them when they learned the cause of their sufferings, afforded them every assistance; and the greater part of them returned safely home after an absence of nine months—several of them to suffer new hardships from their relentless persecutors.

Neither rank nor age were any protection against the cruelty of these men, who, careless about the mischief they inflicted, imposed upon the young oaths which they could not be supposed to understand, and ordered them to subscribe bonds they could never fulfil. The son of Lord Semple, at this time a student in Glasgow College, had a young man for his private tutor, of uncommon abilities and excellent character, to whom he was much attached. Him the council summoned to appear before them; but he, aware of the consequences, did not comply, and his pupil withdrew with him. They were both served with a charge of law-burrows. The young lord’s mother, however, who was a papist, interfered on his behalf, and represented that her son, through the neglect of those to whom he was recommended, or the corruption of the place, had been seduced and poisoned with bad principles; she therefore craved that they would recommend such persons as would watch over his loyalty and estate during his minority, and they appointed the Bishop of Argyle to provide a governor to that lord. Mr Wylie went abroad and remained at some of the foreign universities with several other pupils.

Alexander Anderson, a youth not sixteen years of age, was treated more harshly, because he would make no compliances. He was sent to the plantations. Yet he left a testimony behind him, which deserves to be remembered, dated Canongate tolbooth, December 10th, this year. In it he remarked—“That he is the youngest prisoner in Scotland; and that the Lord had opened his eyes and revealed his Son in his heart since he came under the cross; that though he had much difficulty to part with his friends and relatives, yet he had now found, that fellowship with Christ did much more than balance the want of the company of dearest relations; that though he was so very young as that he could not be admitted a witness among men, yet he hopes Christ hath taken him to be a witness to his cause. He adheres to the work of reformation from popery and prelacy to the National and Solemn League and Covenants; and witnesses against the pulling down of the government of Christ’s house, and setting up lordly prelacy, and joining with them; and adduces a good many places of Scripture which he conceives strike against this practice. He makes an apology that he who is but a child should leave any thing of this nature behind him; but says he was constrained to it, to testify that God perfects strength out of the mouth of babes. He regrets the indulgence as what upon both sides had been matter of stumbling and offence among good people; and declares his fears that a black, dreadful day is coming upon Scotland: that it is good to seek the Lord and draw near to him. He leaves his commendation to the cross of Christ, and blesses the Lord for carrying him through temptations, and enabling him, one of the lambs of his flock, to stand before great men and judges; and closes with good wishes to all the friends of Christ.”

The Justiciary Court was this year engaged in equally cruel, though, could we divest them of their horrors, we should say more ludicrous transactions. “Eight or ten witches,” Lord Fountainhall tells us, “were panelled, all of them, except one or two, poor miserable-like women. Some of them were brought out of Sir Robert Hepburn of Keith’s lands; others out of Ormiston, Crichton, and Pencaitland parishes. The first of them were delated by those two who were burnt in Salt-Preston in May 1678, and they divulged and named the rest, as also put forth seven in the Lonehead of Leswade; and, if they had been permitted, were ready to fyle by their delation sundry gentlewomen and others of fashion; but the justices discharged them, thinking it either the product of malice or melancholy, or the devil’s deception, in representing such persons as present at their field-meetings who were not there. Yet this was cried out on as a prelimiting them from discovering those enemies of mankind. However, they were permitted to name Mr Gideon Penman, who had been minister at Crichton, but deprived for sundry acts of immoralitie. Two or three of the witches constantly affirmed that he was present at their meetings with the devil; and that when the devil called for him, he asked, where is Mr Gideon, my chaplain? and that, ordinarily, Mr Gideon was in the rear of all their dances, and beat up those that were slow. He denied all, and was liberate upon caution”—certainly the only way of disposing of this case in consistency with common sense.

Yet were these poor unfortunates allowed to proceed with their confessions, which were regularly registered against them. “They declared the first thing the devil caused them do, was to renounce their baptism; and by laying their hand on the top of their head, and the other on the sole of their foot, to renounce all betwixt the two to his service. But one being with child at the time, in her resignation, excepted the child, at which the devil was very angry. That he frequently kissed them, but his body was cold, and his breath was like a damp air. That he cruelly beat them when they had done the evil he had enjoined them—for he was a most wicked and barbarous master. That sometimes he adventured to give them the communion, or holy sacrament; the bread like wafers—the drink, sometimes blood, and at other times black moss-water; and preached most blasphemously. That sometimes he transformed them into bees, ravens, and crows; and they flew to such and such remote places. Their confessions,” his lordship gravely adds, “made many intelligent, sober persons stumble much, what faith was to be adhibite to them.” How any intelligent person could hesitate a moment upon the subject, is strange; and it is humiliating and lamentable to add, that by grave, intelligent judges “nine of these women, upon their own confession (and so seemed very rational and penitent) were sentenced to be strangled and then burnt,” instead of being sent to some safe place of confinement to be dealt gently with; and five of them were accordingly immolated between Leith and Edinburgh, and other four burnt at Painston-moor, within their own parish where they had lived.

A case came before the privy council, not long after, which it is difficult to reconcile with the above, the proceedings were so diametrically opposite. Cathrine Liddel brought a complaint against Rutherford, baron-bailie, to Morrison of Prestongrange and David Cowan in Tranent, for having seized her, an innocent woman, defamed her as a witch, and detained her under restraint as a prisoner, also that Cowan had pricked her with long pins, in sundry places of her body, and bled and tortured her most cruelly. The bailie pled that she had been denounced by other witches, laboured under a mala fama, and therefore had been apprehended; and that she and her son-in-law had consented to her being “searched” for the vindication of her innocency. With regard to the pricker, he had learned his trade from Kincaid, a famed pricker; he never exercised his calling without the authority of a magistrate; his trade was not condemned by any law, and all divines and lawyers, who have written on witchcraft, acknowledge that there are such marks, and therefore there may be an art for discerning them. But the Chancellor remembered that he had formerly imprisoned the famous Kincaid in Kinross, as a notorious cheat. The lords of the privy council therefore first declared the woman innocent, and restored her to her good name and fame, and ordered it to be publicly intimated the next Sunday in her parish church; then reproved Rutherford for his rashness, and forbade him in future to proceed in such a manner, declaring that the use of torture by pricking or otherwise was illegal; and, as a mark of their displeasure, ordered the pricker to prison.

Considerable changes had taken place among the higher authorities in Scotland this year. Since the appointment of Sir George Mackenzie of Rosehaugh to be king’s advocate, Sir George Mackenzie of Tarbet was appointed justice-general; Sir Thomas Wallace of Craigie, lord justice-clerk; the Bishop of Galloway was added to the committee for public affairs; Richard Maitland of Gogar, Sir George Gordon of Haddo, and Drummond of Lundin, admitted councillors; and the Marquis of Montrose made captain of the horse guards.