BOOK XIV.
MAY TO DECEMBER, A.D. 1679.
Outrages of the soldiery—Dissensions among the persecuted—Commotions in the West—Rutherglen declaration—Rising of the Presbyterians—Skirmish at Drumclog—Royal troops retire to Edinburgh—Divisions among the Presbyterians—Arrival of Monmouth—Battle of Bothwell Bridge.
Matters were now fast hastening to a crisis, especially in the west country. The licentiousness of the soldiery increased by indulgence; and after they had, through the accurate intelligence of the incumbents, pillaged every intercommuned or recusant inhabitant worth plundering, especially in the rural districts, their insatiable greed did not spare the conformist part of the community. Money was their great object; and when they could not obtain that, they vented their rage upon the property they could not carry off. In some places, they thrashed out the corn and threw it into the stream, and took the meal and trode it in the dunghill; in others, they set fire to the stacks, and if there were any grain in the garner, cast it into the flames, while they rioted on all the stock or whatever edibles they could lay their hands on. In this indiscriminate pillage, many suffered who made no great pretensions to religion, and who, without that grand counteracting principle, were by no means disposed to take patiently the spoiling of their goods by military ruffians. These, from motives of self-interest, were led to make common cause with the Presbyterians, in defence of their national rights and to avenge their civil oppressions.
The small armed conventicles finding it hazardous to meet in the neighbourhood of the garrisons, withdrew to more retired situations, and assembled in greater numbers, while their discussions involved the general principles of civil liberty, as well as the more isolated question of their right to hear the preaching of the gospel. The constant harassings they met with from the soldiers in going to or coming from the meetings, who being pre-pardoned for whatever outrage they might commit, were restrained by no motive but fear, obliged them to keep as much and as long together as they could. Their little parties gradually approximated each other; and all converging towards one focus, they at length mustered a formidable body; but not all of one mind.
Ministers who wished to pursue moderate measures, laboured under peculiar disadvantages. Some idea may be formed of the mental struggles and outward difficulties of these worthies from the account which Mr Blackadder gives of himself at this time. He ventured to preach at Fala-moor, in Livingston, on the last Sabbath of May this year, which happened to be the day before Drumclog, though neither he nor the people knew of it. His subject led him to speak of defensive arms; but in handling it, it appeared he had by no means given satisfaction. Contrasting their spiritual with their military preparations for their meetings, he proceeded:—“When you come forth with swords in your hands to defend the worship of God, it is well; but whatever you endeavour with your hostile weapons, I would have you trust little to them.” And he exhorted them to put their confidence in God rather than in their own instruments of war.
After sermon, some honest men came to him as they used to do. They were on their way westward, having heard the rumour of their friends combining in arms. He perceived them looking angry and discontented-like. “We fear, sir, you have discouraged the people by not putting them more forward to appear in arms. They needed a word of exhortation and upstirring, and not to cool their zeal as you have done.” “I do not,” said he, “condemn honest endeavours to redress your wrongs; I should be the first in cases where there is clearness to stand up and defend the gospel; but I fear forwardness without deliberation.” His conscientious hearers and he, upon some further conference, came to a better understanding; but he adds—“About this time there were several people more froward than godly, prudent, or charitable, who upbraided ministers that they did not press the people more, or preach so and so, according to their mind; but little did they consider, how much ministers were difficulted to give advice therein, perceiving the case so intricate for want of clearness; yet the few who stickled underhand still continued to meddle, so that poor people were put to great uncertainty, and knew not how to behave; their consciences were tortured; their hearts grieved; and their spirits fretted. But the council still furious to suppress their meetings by sending forces from time to time to dissipate them and take prisoners, was the main cause why they went forth in arms; otherwise they would not, if their rulers had not by their violent persecution provoked them to that necessity.
“Though unable from indisposition himself, he hindered none from appearing in arms who were clear and in capacity to assist, although he was much jumbled in his own mind anent that particular; and used to say, both before and after, he did not see a call for rising so clear as he could like. Though he always reverenced the providence of the rising, and approved honest designs, yet his opinion was, that the Lord called for a testimony by suffering rather than outward deliverance.”[[119]]
[119]. Mem. of Rev. John Blackadder, p. 229 et seq.
Other equally excellent men considered the question to be, Whether shall we consent to the preaching of the gospel being suppressed altogether, or shall we assert it at the point of the Sword? With regard to civil liberty, there could be no dispute. Where it is concerned, the question comes shortly to this, when tyranny reigns triumphant, “Is there, or is there not, a rational prospect of success in resistance?” But here the question was, Is it our duty with or without a prospect of success, to lift up our testimony against the iniquity of the times? nay, should there be only a prospect of sealing it with our blood? And they hesitated not to reply in the affirmative; and the first rencounter seemed to set the stamp of wisdom to this resolve, but whether more propitious to the cause of religious liberty has been thought problematical; and of this opinion were the most influential of the persons who directed the operations of the great western meeting.
This meeting, obliged for mutual protection to assume the appearance of an army, were guilty of no acts of hostility, but their formidable front alarmed the soldiers, who reported to the council, with many exaggerations, the frequency and the force of those rendezvouses of rebellion. These produced more severe instructions for the soldiers to act with greater promptness; and thus both sides stood as it were ready prepared for conflict in the mutual apprehensions entertained of each other. At this juncture, the ultra-covenanters were headed by Robert Hamilton, brother to the Laird of Preston, who, whatever might be his abilities for theological controversy, possessed none of the commanding powers necessary for directing the movements of men maddened by oppression, and driven by the denial of every legitimate mode of redress, to the ultimate resort of a brave people—the assertion of their natural rights on the field. Besides being wholly destitute of military talents, his mind was contracted by his associating solely with those who were of his own sentiments, and seemed more anxious to secure the triumph of a party than the great cause for which all were contending.
Uncertain as to the issue of the present commotion, a number of those who composed the general meeting were anxious to publish to the world their “Testimony to the truth and cause which they owned, and against the sins and defections of the times.” This Hamilton urged as what would bind them together, and by explaining their principles, be an inducement for others to join. A majority agreeing, he, along with Mr Thomas Douglas, one of their ministers, was appointed to go to some public place, escorted by a strong party of about eighty armed men, and publish their declaration. The 29th of May, the anniversary of the king’s birth and restoration, was chosen as the most appropriate one for this their solemn act; and the royal burgh of Rutherglen was pitched upon as the place.
Accordingly, when the burghers of this little county-capital were displaying their loyalty, the small party entered in the afternoon, burned the various acts enumerated in their Testimony, then extinguished the bonfires, and affixed upon the cross a copy of “the Declaration and Testimony of some of the true Presbyterian party in Scotland.” It ran thus—“As the Lord hath been pleased to keep and preserve his interest in this land by the testimony of faithful witnesses from the beginning, so some in our days have not been wanting, who, upon the greatest of hazards, have added their testimony to the testimonies of those who have gone before them, and who have suffered imprisonments, finings, forfeitures, banishment, torture, and death, from an evil and perfidious adversary to the church and kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ in the land. Now, we being pursued by the same adversary for our lives, while owning the interest of Christ, according to his word and the National and Solemn League and Covenants, judge it our duty (though unworthy, yet hoping we are true members of the church of Scotland) to add our testimony to those of the worthies who have gone before us in witnessing against all things that have been done publicly on prejudice of his interest from the beginning of the work of reformation, especially from the year 1648 downward to the year 1660; but more particularly those since, as—the act rescissory; the act establishing abjured prelacy; the declaration renouncing the covenants; the Glasgow act, whereby upwards of three hundred faithful ministers were ejected from their churches, because they could not comply with prelacy; the act for imposing an holy anniversary day, to be kept yearly upon the 29th of May, as a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving for the setting up of an usurping power to the destroying the interest of Christ in the land; the act establishing the sacrilegious supremacy; and all the acts of council, warrants, and instructions for indulgence; and all their other sinful and unlawful acts.” In confirmation of this testimony, and to evidence their dislike of the acts testified against, they burned them publicly at the cross of Rutherglen, as their rulers unjustly, perfidiously, and presumptuously burned the sacred covenants. The paper was unsubscribed, but a notandum attached to it announced the readiness of its authors to do so if necessary, and to enlarge and avow it with all their suffering brethren in the land.
Immediately after affixing their declaration, Hamilton and his party retired towards Evandale and Newmills, in the neighbourhood of which Mr Douglas proposed to preach next Lord’s day. The news of this daring defiance spread like wildfire; and being proclaimed so near Glasgow, where the king’s troops lay, was considered by their commanders as a personal insult. James Grahame, Laird of Claverhouse, already notorious as one of the vile tools of the prelates, and active oppressors of his country, having been intrusted with extensive powers by the privy council for suppressing these abhorred conventicles, received new instructions to search out and seize, kill and destroy, all who had any share in the appearance at Rutherglen. Nor did he allow them to remain long an idle letter. Mr John King was to preach at Hamilton on Sabbath. Claverhouse set out with his band on the Saturday, and surprised and took him prisoner, with about fourteen countrymen, chiefly strangers, who had come to hear. Some few escaped and carried tidings to their friends, who formed the design of rescuing their minister. Next day, the meeting was to be held, and they expected to receive a reinforcement from them. Claverhouse, who had also been apprised of the conventicle, resolved to disperse it before returning to Glasgow with his captives.
Accordingly, upon the Sabbath morning (June 1st), he marched thither, driving the prisoners before him like sheep, bound two and two together. Public worship was begun when the accounts came of his approach. Mr Douglas stopped, prayed a little, then laid the case before the people. All that had arms, willingly offered themselves to defend the assembled company, and prevent their dispersion or capture. They mustered about forty horse and one hundred and fifty or two hundred foot, not one-third of whom had muskets; the rest carried forks and halberts. They were led by Mr (afterwards Colonel) Cleland, who fell nobly at the head of the Cameronian regiment in the battle of Dunkeld, Balfour, Rathillet, John Nisbet of Hardhill, and Mr Hamilton; and although untrained, were resolute and eager for action. They came up with the enemy on a moor “half a mile bewest Drumclog.” They received their first fire resolutely, returned it with effect, and instantly closed hand to hand. The encounter was short. The soldiers, who probably did not expect such a reception, gave way and fled, leaving about forty killed and wounded, besides a number of prisoners who were disarmed and dismissed. The accounts of this battle which we have, are not very distinct, but from what Russell says, who was present, the chief merit appears to have belonged to Cleland. He drew up a party of foot armed with pikes, who received and broke the attack upon the right of their small party, led on by Clavers himself, who had his horse shot and very narrowly escaped. Of the countrymen, only five or six were killed; and it was the general belief, if they had pursued their advantage without giving the soldiers time to rally, they would have completely annihilated the whole party. But they only pursued them a short way, and returned to the meeting in triumph with their minister.
They could not now separate with safety; they therefore resolved to continue together, and having refreshed themselves, they marched to Hamilton, where they remained all night. Flushed by their success, they determined to proceed to Glasgow to attack the enemy’s head-quarters. Accordingly, on Monday they marched thither—their numbers swelling as they went. Grahame, however, had carried the intelligence of his own disgrace there before them, to lessen which he naturally exaggerated their force; and the troops under Lord Ross were prepared to receive them. The main body was stationed at the cross, all approaches to which were barricaded by carts, wood, and such articles as came readiest. A few men were distributed in the houses adjoining, from the windows of which they could annoy the countrymen as they advanced. The latter entered the town in two divisions—the one under the direction of John Balfour, by the High Street; the other under Hamilton, along the Gallowgate. The men attacked the entrenchments bravely; but after a contest, in which they lost about six or eight killed, and a few wounded, they were obliged to desist; but they retired in good order, and halting at a little distance to the eastward, drew up their small force and offered the soldiers battle upon even ground and equal terms—a challenge the latter did not choose to accept; and they marched back to Hamilton, less disheartened by their failure, than encouraged by the numerous accessions their ranks had received by the way.[[120]]
[120]. Wodrow says, Hamilton skulked upon this occasion. “Some question if he looked the soldiers in the face, and say that he stepped into a house at the Gallowgate bridge till the soldiers retired.” Vol. ii. p. 47. I should rather think this inconsistent with the fact of his being chosen so soon after to the chief command—only there is no accounting for the variations of mere animal courage.
The royal troops, after they were withdrawn, sallied forth and vented their dastardly spleen on the dead bodies left in the streets. They would not allow them decent burial; and when some of the townsfolk, under covert of night, took the corpses into their houses and prepared them for interment, the ruffians broke in and sacrilegiously stripped off the dead-clothes, and carried away the linen for sale. Even when at length women were tacitly permitted to perform the last sad rites, they attacked them as they were proceeding to the burial-ground, robbed them of their plaids, cut the mortcloths, and obliged them to leave the coffins in the almshouse, near the High Church, where they remained for several days, till the military were called to other service.
Immediately on receiving intelligence of these transactions, the council met and issued a vehement proclamation, denouncing the insurgents as traitors, whose rebellion was aggravated by “their having formerly tasted of the royal bounty!! and clemency,” whereunto they owed their lives and fortunes, which had been forfeited by their former rebellious practices, under the cloak of religion—the ordinary colour and pretext of rebellion. Their transactions at Rutherglen, &c. were declared to be open, manifest, and horrid rebellion and high treason, for which the actors and their adherents ought to be pursued as professed traitors; and they were called upon to lay down their weapons and surrender their persons within twenty-four hours, to the Earl of Linlithgow, commander-in-chief, or other officer or magistrates, on pain of being holden and proceeded against as incorrigible and desperate traitors, incapable of mercy or pardon; while they were not assured of pardon if they should surrender themselves upon these terms.
Two days after, another proclamation was sent forth, ordering the militia to hold themselves to act with the regulars, as they should be required by the council, which was quickly followed by a third ordering all the heritors and freeholders to attend the king’s host—those of the western shires excepted. Meanwhile Lord Ross withdrew from Glasgow, and marching eastward was joined by the Earl of Linlithgow at Larbert-moor, whence they sent despatches to the council, entreating them to apply to his majesty for assistance from England. The council wrote to Lauderdale for the required help, and at the same time ordered the forces to cover Edinburgh. On the 7th of June they were cantoned in the vicinity.
During their encampment about Hamilton, the insurgents received considerable accessions. Captain John Paton of Meadowhead, arrived with a body of horse from Fenwick, Newmills, and Galston; Mr John Welsh brought a considerable number from Carrick;[[121]] and a considerable number of others assembled from various quarters without any leaders, or at least without any whose names are recorded. The whole party when at their highest, never exceeded four thousand permanent, though they varied considerably at different times owing to the numbers who came and went away again, when they perceived the confusion that reigned, from a total want of training, and of officers to train the men, scarcely one among them having ever been in the army, which was wofully increased by the melancholy dissensions and bitter disputations by which they were agitated; for no person of influence, either gentlemen or men of property, came among them.
[121]. When they entered Glasgow, they removed the heads of their friends which were stuck up in and about that city.
The first palpable difference was about a declaration emitted at Rutherglen, which several considered as not sufficiently explicit, yet were willing to adhere to it; as considering the shortness of the time and the hurry in which those who drew it up necessarily were, required that some allowance should be made; and it contained, in sufficiently plain terms, the grand objects for which they contended—redress of their grievances, and correction of the abuses in the affairs of church and state. The others insisted that an enumeration of the sins and defections of the times should be inserted at length, and the indulgence especially witnessed against.
These ranged in two parties; the former, i. e. the moderate, were guided by the Laird of Kaitloch, Mr John Welsh, Mr David Hume, and some other ministers; the latter, i. e. the ultras, by Mr Robert Hamilton, with Mr Thomas Douglas, Donald Cargill, and the great majority of the younger brethren in the ministry. At the first meeting, after some warm discussion, the following sketch was agreed to:—
“We who are here providentially convened in our own defence, for preventing and removing the mistakes and misapprehensions of all, especially of those whom we wish to be and hope are friends, do declare our present purposes and endeavours to be only in vindication and defence of the true reformed religion in its professions and doctrine, as we stand obliged thereunto by our ‘National and Solemn League and Covenants,’ and that solemn ‘Acknowledgment of sins,’ and ‘Engagement to duties,’ made and taken in the year 1648, declaring against popery, prelacy, erastianism, and all things depending thereupon.” This did not give general satisfaction; and the few days they were allowed to be together, while the enemy were gathering around them, which they ought to have employed in assiduously improving their discipline, and in military exercises, they wasted in theological tilting and polemical skirmishes among themselves, about matters which, even after a victory, it would have been as well to have made the subject of forbearance, but which in their then situation could answer no other purpose than that of paralysing an effort, whose only chance of success depended on the united, vigorous, and unremitted direction of all their energies and resources, mental and physical, to one grand end.
That those who had been nurtured in the wilds, and borne for eighteen years the brunt of the persecution, and whose intercourse had been chiefly confined to their fellow-sufferers, should have been keen, contracted, and irritable, was what was naturally to have been expected; and yet, from the accounts we have of these disputes, those who assumed the name of moderates appear to have been mainly to blame by their unyielding contendings for milder principles and softer proceedings. As they then stood, to talk of moderation was to invite disaster. They had been declared rebels, and when they drew the sword, no hope remained but what its point could purchase. To attempt soothing their opponents by honeyed words was like hushing the hungry tiger with a song. The moderate party objected to the clause “All things depending thereupon,” and desired it to be erased as too closely pointing out the indulgence at a time when every bone of contention should be taken away from the Presbyterians that might tempt them to bite and devour one another. The ultras urged that the expressions were general; and, in their opinion, erastianism was as directly abjured by their church as prelacy, and that the indulgence was a fruit of erastianism.[[122]] Contentions grew hot and love waxed cold.
[122]. The doctrine of Erastus, a German divine, who asserted that the pastoral office was only persuasive, like that of the professorship of any other science; that the communion was free to all, and that a minister could only dissuade, but not prohibit, a vicious character from participating in the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper; and that the punishment of all ecclesiastical offences, as well as the support of all ecclesiastical institutions, belonged to the civil magistrate, upon the principle that they who paid servants had a right to demand their service in the manner they thought most proper, and to dismiss them if they disobeyed their orders.
At another meeting—for their meetings and debates were endless—it was proposed that a day should be set aside for fasting and humiliation. Alas! it turned out to be a day of strife and confusion. In their confession of sins, the moderates were now for generals, the ultras for particulars, and enumerated—1st, The universal rioting throughout the land on the king’s return in 1660, the many public abuses then committed, and the frequent profaning of the Lord’s name. 2d, The establishing and complying with prelacy. 3d, Neglecting a public testimony against the tyrannical hierarchy, and against defacing the Lord’s glorious work and overturning the right government of his house. 4th, The sin of taking unlawful bonds. 5th, The paying cess; and, 6th, Complying with abjured erastianism:—ministers appearing at the court of usurping rulers, and there accepting from them warrants and instructions, founded upon that sacrilegious supremacy to admit them to, and regulate them in, the exercise of their ministry; their leading blindfold along with them many of the godly in that abjured course; their indulgence becoming a public sin and snare both to themselves and others.
The moderates would not consent to the enumeration, though it is not easy to imagine upon what grounds men who contended for the supreme headship of Christ in his church could consistently oppose it. No fast was kept; and, if we may be allowed to judge from a communication between the heads of the parties, perhaps it was as well that it was not. Mr Hamilton sent a message to the ministers of the moderate side to preach against the indulgence, otherwise he and a number of the officers would not come to hear them. Mr Rae, one of the ministers, returned for answer—“That he had been wrestling against erastianism in the magistrate for many years, and he would never truckle to the worst kind of erastianism in the common people; that he would receive no instruction from him nor any of them as to the subject and matter of his sermons; and wished he might mind what belonged to him, and not go beyond his sphere and station.”
Differing so widely respecting the testimony they were to bear to the cause, as little could they agree with regard to their manifesto to the nation. In a meeting of their officers,[[123]] the ultras proposed that the Rutherglen declaration should be adopted as the basis; the moderates, that the king’s authority should be expressly acknowledged, in terms of the 3d article of the Solemn League and Covenant, in which they swore “to defend the king’s majesty’s person and authority in the preservation and defence of the true religion and liberties of the kingdom, that the world may bear witness with our consciences of our loyalty, and that we have no thoughts or intentions to diminish his majesty’s just power and greatness.” To this the others answered—that, as they had not urged any positive declaration against him, although he had in fact declared war against his people; and all the oppression, cruelty, and persecution in Scotland of which they complained, and for the redress of which they were now in arms, were carried on in his name—they could not consistently with their previous declarations, nor with the covenants which bound the whole land, first to God and then to one another; and then to the king only in defence of the true religion, which he had actually overturned by setting up prelacy, ruined the covenanted work of reformation and the liberties of the nation, persecuted to death the supporters of both, and broken the conditions of government sworn to at his coronation, on which his right and their allegiance were founded.
[123]. This is styled indiscriminately, a meeting of officers or a council of war.
The ultras were right in the abstract; and had they known how to mould it to practical purposes, they might have anticipated, as they certainly prepared the way for, the Revolution of 1688; that sound, practical exposition of the principles which the others missed, by contending for what is utterly impossible under the present constitution of human nature:—uniformity in a religious creed and civil liberty to be held together in a nation, composed of reasoning beings, susceptible of different views of the same truths, and allowed to exercise their reasoning powers. I am strongly inclined to believe, however, that much personal feeling mixed up in the controversy, and that the moderates allowed themselves to be led astray by an especial opposition to Robert Hamilton; and by showing this too openly, united to that politico-religious demagogue the honest and upright party, who were induced to suspect some lurking trimming policy in the measures of the moderates, because they appeared to them to encourage an accommodation with the enemy upon a compromise of principle. The others carried their doctrine of submission to the civil government to a length unwarrantable in free countries; and Scotland ought to have been a free country. There are reciprocal duties between the people and their rulers; and it is against one of the first principles of our nature, to assert that either of the parties have a right to violate their obligations, merely because they happen to have the means of so doing.
While these disputes were distracting the Presbyterians in Scotland, intrigue and emulation were dividing the councils of their enemies in London. The wretched Charles found that licentiousness was not the road to happiness, and that concubinage did not tend to promote domestic felicity. With the struggles of panders for domination over the poor heartless thing, that revelled amid the gaudy trappings of royalty, I do not intend to pollute my pages; it is sufficient to say, that his favourite bastard, whom he had decorated with the title of Duke of Buccleuch and Monmouth, gained the perilous and to him fatal eminence of commander-in-chief of his forces in Scotland. The temper of this young man was amiable; and, unlike the Stuarts, he both wished and endeavoured to promote the welfare of the people and adhere to moderate and salutary councils; but these dispositions rendered him obnoxious to those who ruled the councils of his father. The Duke of York, by his imperious, severe, and obstinate temper, had long held Charles in bondage, and prevented the exercise of any humane feeling towards the Scottish insurgents, which, however transient, he on some occasions appeared to possess; and Lauderdale, instigated and supported by the clergy of Scotland, preferred pursuing a line of conduct which recommended him to them rather than what accorded either with the circumstances of the times or the real stability of the throne.
Monmouth’s instructions were in accordance with the wishes of the prelatic rulers—forbidding him to negotiate with the rebels, whom he was to extirpate, not to reconcile. On the 18th of June, he arrived at Edinburgh, and was admitted a privy councillor. Next day, he proceeded to assume the command of the army, which lay within two miles of the Kirk of Shotts, and, having been reinforced by some troops from England, amounted to ten thousand men. A letter from the king immediately followed his Grace, thanking the council for their diligence in endeavouring to meet the emergency, and informing them that it was his royal will and pleasure “that they should prosecute the rebels with fire and sword, and all other extremities of war, and particularly requiring them to use their utmost endeavours in getting the best intelligence of all such as were engaged in this unnatural rebellion, being fully resolved to bring the ringleaders among them to condign punishment suitable to their notorious and insolent conduct; likewise putting them in mind that all care and diligence be used for discovering the murderers of the late Archbishop of St Andrews, by all the severity that law would allow, and punishing with all rigour the actors or accessaries to that horrid murder, their resettors or abettors;” thus anticipating, or rather authorising, the subsequent watchword, which became the warrant for unrelenting and indiscriminate massacre.
The council, in reply, expressed the universal joy which this gracious communication had created among them, and extolled that royal wisdom which had given such just measures and directions for suppressing the insurrection and securing his own government, together with their religion, lives, and properties, which would all undoubtedly have been endangered by the frequency of similar attempts that would have ensued, if the present insolent rebels, who now disturbed the kingdom, had been ordered to be spared or gently dealt with; thus, in like manner, anticipating the cruelties in which they afterwards rioted. A copy of the king’s letter was immediately forwarded to Monmouth for his guidance.
The moderate friends of the Whigs in Edinburgh also sent instructions to them, respecting the course they thought they should pursue, especially warning them against being led astray by the hotheaded party among them; advising them to send propositions to the Duke, narrating the oppressions they had endured, and cheerfully professing their fidelity to the king, for whom they were ready to sacrifice every thing they held most dear, excepting only their religion and liberty; and, above all, to avoid fighting, except with seen advantage by surprisal or ambuscade—to keep close together, sending scouts out in all directions, and particularly not to be too secure upon the Sabbath day; while they kept up close intercourse with their friends throughout the country, and endeavoured to induce them to join the army in defence of the grand principles held not only by themselves, but by a great sympathizing body throughout England.
A wholesome advice, unfortunately tendered in vain! Multitudes who came to the camp, when they perceived the distractions that prevailed, left it despairing of any happy issue, and not only weakened the troops by their desertion, but prevented many who were coming, or preparing to come, from joining so discordant an assemblage. This again caused accusations and recriminations, each side upbraiding the other for being the occasion of such mischief and visible hindrance to the good cause, destroyed all cordial co-operation, and prevented the discipline of the troops; so that, when the king’s forces approached, they presented the melancholy appearance of a disjointed rabble of countrymen, whose numbers did not exceed six thousand men. The necessity of naming officers who had had some experience in warlike affairs was pressing, and the leaders met for this purpose on the 21st; but, after a stormy discussion, not on the military merits of the men, but on the question, whether any should be intrusted with command who had owned the indulgence? Mr Hamilton and a number of his supporters withdrew in anger from the meeting, without having come to any determination. A few of the temperate who remained, drew up a respectful supplication to Monmouth, stating their grievances, and requesting liberty, under safe conduct, for a few of their number to state their grievances, that they might obtain through his favour some speedy and effectual redress.
Battle of Bothwell Bridge.
Vide page [374].
Edinr. Hugh Paton, Carver & Gilder, to the Queen, 1842.
Next day, the armies were within sight of each other. The king’s troops spread upon Bothwell-moor, with their advanced guard in the town; the Whigs stationed along Hamilton-moor, on the south side of the river Clyde, with their advanced guard at the bridge—an old narrow structure, the only pass by which they were assailable. Early that morning, Mr David Hume, Mr Fergusson of Caitloch, and Mr John Welsh went in disguise to Monmouth’s head-quarters. On passing, they were politely saluted by Claverhouse and had ready access to his Grace. When introduced, they stated their demands, which were—that they might be allowed the free exercise of their religion, and suffered to attend the ordinances dispensed by Presbyterian ministers without molestation; that a free Parliament and General Assembly might be called to settle the affairs of church and state; and an indemnity offered to all who were or had been in arms. The Duke, who heard them with great attention, replied that the king had given him no instructions respecting these matters; he therefore could not say any thing about them, only he assured the delegates he would lay their requests before his majesty, and as he thought them reasonable, had no doubt they would be granted; but in the meanwhile, he could enter into no terms till they laid down their arms and threw themselves entirely upon the royal mercy. He then dismissed them, and gave them half an hour to return him an answer from their friends whether they would consent to his proposal. At the same time, he issued orders to put the troops in motion.
When the commissioners reported the Duke’s demand, that they should lay down their arms previous to terms being offered, Mr Hamilton, who had now assumed the command, laughed at it, and said, “Aye! and hang next.” No answer was therefore returned. As soon as the half hour’s truce expired, Lord Livingston advanced at the head of the foot-guards with the cannon to force the bridge. He was firmly received by a small determined band under Ure of Shargarton and Major Learmont, who drove them back twice, and would even have taken the cannon had they been properly supported, but their ammunition failed; and when they sent to the commander for a fresh supply, or a reinforcement of men better provided, they received orders to retire upon the main body, which, having no other alternative, they did, and with heavy hearts left their vantage ground, and with it every chance of success.[[124]] The royal army then passed the bridge, and drew up upon the bank with their artillery in front, to which the patriots had nothing to oppose but one field-piece and two large uncouth unmounted muskets; yet did they force Lord Livingston to halt, till the cannon having been opened upon the left, threw the undisciplined horse of the countrymen into disorder, and the route immediately became universal.[[125]]
[124]. The honour of this defence is claimed by Russell for Hackston of Rathillet, who also had a command; but it is universally allowed that the nominal General, Hamilton, was among the first to flee.
[125]. Although we may lament the dreadful and bloody years which followed this victory, and hold up to merited execration the persecuting prelates, yet, perhaps, the descendants of the persecuted have reason to bless God that the ultra-covenanters did not gain that day. It would have given the chief power into the hands of Robert Hamilton, who commanded upon that occasion; and what use he would have made of it may be fairly conjectured from the following vindication of his conduct in murdering in cold blood a prisoner after the battle of Drumclog. It is contained in a letter from him addressed to “the anti-popish, anti-prelatic, anti-sectarian, true Presbyterian remnant of the church of Scotland,” dated December 7, 1685:—“As for that accusation they bring against me of killing the poor man (as they call him) at Drumclog, I may easily guess that my accusers can be no other but some of the house of Saul or Shemei, or some such risen again to espouse that poor gentleman’s (Saul) his quarrel against honest Samuel, for his offering to kill that poor man, Agag, after the king’s giving him quarters. But I being called to command that day, gave out the word that no quarter should be given; and returning from pursuing Claverhouse, one or two of these fellows were standing in the midst of our friends, and some were debating for quarters, some against it. None could blame me to decide the controversy; and I bless the Lord for it to this day!! There were five more that, without my knowledge, got quarters, who were brought to me after we were a mile from the place as having got quarters—which I reckoned among the first steppings aside; and seeing that spirit amongst us at that time, I then told it to some that were with me (to my best remembrance it was honest old John Nisbet) that I feared the Lord would not honour us to do much for him. I shall only say this—I desire to bless his holy name that, since ever he helped me to set my face to his work, I never had nor would take a favour from enemies, either on right or left hand, and desired to give as few.”—Faithful Contendings, p. 201 et seq.
Few fell in the fight, but the pursuit was cruel and bloody; upwards of four hundred were cut down, and twelve hundred who were on the moor, were forced to surrender at discretion. The slaughter would have been greater had not Monmouth, in spite of the advice of some of the other Generals, ordered the vanquished to be spared, when the yeomanry cavalry especially were executing cruel vengeance on the unresisting fugitives. Among the prisoners were Messrs King and Kid, ministers, who were, however, only preserved by his humanity from military violence, that they might afterwards satiate the cruelty of their clerical enemies by a more disgraceful execution, if dying in any manner for the cause of truth can be called disgraceful. The treatment of the captives by the inferior officers, to whose charge they were committed, was unnecessarily vindictive and severe. They were stripped nearly naked, and made to lie flat on the ground, nor suffered to change their position; and when some of them ventured to raise themselves to implore a draught of water, they were instantly shot. They were afterwards tied two and two and driven to Edinburgh, to be placed at the council’s disposal.
Nor was the cruelty confined to those taken in battle, numbers of unarmed men, who were merely coming to hear sermon at the camp, were murdered on the road by the soldiery; and one atrocious case stands painfully conspicuous. Arthur Inglis of Cambusnethan, while quietly reading his bible in a furrow, was observed by a party who were patrolling the country in search of delinquents, and being actually discovered in this treasonable fact, one of the soldiers fired at the traitor; but missing, the good man startled a little, looked round for a moment, and then, without appearing to be alarmed, resumed his reading, when another of the miscreants, by order of his viler commander, clave his skull, and left him dead on the spot! The numbers who were thus wantonly massacred, are variously stated; but if we take the lowest, two hundred—considering the then state of the population—it shows, in sufficiently strong colours, a barbarous waste of life, and the danger of committing such extravagant powers into the hands of an unbridled soldiery.
Yet terrible as these military executions were, they were mild and merciful compared with the legal atrocities which followed. As after Pentland no faith was kept with the prisoners, who were treated—as men who fail in struggling for their rights always are—more like wild, noxious animals than fellow-creatures of the human form; a lesson to patriots and to the oppressed when they rise against their tyrants:—better perish on the high places of the field than submit to languish out a few mournful years beneath the tender mercies of the victors. While being driven to the capital, the captive patriots were exposed to every indignity the ingenious malignity of their persecutors could invent, especially being made, as they passed along, a gazing-stock to the crowd, who taunted them with such questions, as—where is your prophet Welsh who told you ye should win the day? where are your covenants that were never to fail? or such sarcasms, as—aye! this is your testimony—this is standing up for the gude auld cause! see if it will stand up for you! When they arrived in the capital, the council ordered the magistrates to place them in the Greyfriar’s churchyard, with a sufficient number of sentinels over them, to guard them night and day; especially during the night, they were to be rigorously watched to prevent escape; and such was their determination to enforce vigilance, that the officers were ordered to keep exact rolls of the sentinels, and if any of the prisoners were amissing, they were to throw dice and answer body for body. For nearly five months were the greater part of the sufferers kept in this open space, without any covering from the rain or shelter from the tempest. During the day, they generally stood, but had not even the miserable privilege of a short walk. During night, the cold damp ground was their bed, without a covering; and if any attempted to rise, for whatever purpose, the sentinels had orders to fire upon them. With great difficulty did any of their friends obtain permission to visit them, or bring them provisions, and these were chiefly females, who were exposed to the grossest insults from the guards; and not infrequently were the provisions they carried destroyed, and the water spilt, before either could reach the starving prisoners; for the government allowance which the Duke of Monmouth procured for them, was, besides being of the worst quality, very scanty. Nor did the inhumanity of the ruffian soldiery allow them to retain money or any article they could pilfer from them, even their shoes, stockings, and upper garments were carried off; and when blankets or any bedclothes were brought, they were immediately seized as lawful plunder.
Before Monmouth left Scotland, he procured the liberation of some hundreds, upon their subscribing a bond, enacting themselves in the books of the privy council not to take up arms without or against his majesty’s authority; and had also obtained for a few of them the stinted favour of wretched huts, to be erected as the winter approached. The bond became another cause of unhappy difference and alienation among the sufferers themselves. Those who refused amounted to about four hundred, and much interest was made to procure their deliverance, especially by some who thought they might sign the bond without sin, endeavouring to persuade them to submit, as it did not involve the sacrifice of any of those principles for which they had taken arms. The others, however, more consistently, viewed their subscribing the bond as an admission that their previous rising had been criminal, and therefore persisted in their refusal. The hardships they had so long endured, and their mutual exhortations, heightened and strengthened their scruples, till they became absolutely impenetrable to whatever could be urged upon the subject, nor would listen either to entreaty or argument. Yet upwards of an hundred contrived to effect an escape; some by the purchased connivance of the guards, some by climbing the walls at the hazard of their lives, others by changing their clothes, and some in women’s apparel.
The remnant who remained firm, were doomed to slavery in the plantations; and their fate, had earth terminated their hopes, was melancholy; but viewed as that of those who through much tribulation must enter the kingdom, was enviable—inexpressibly enviable! when compared with that of their oppressors, who unwittingly sent them by the shortest road to heaven.[[126]] Their numbers, estimated at about two hundred and fifty-seven, were to be transported to Barbadoes and sold for slaves. Mr Blackadder thus narrates the tragical story:—“The prisoners were all shipped in Leith roads (15th November) in an English captain’s vessel, to be carried to America. He was a profane, cruel wretch, and used them barbarously, stewing them up between decks, where they could not get up their heads, except to sit or lean, and robbing them of many things their friends had sent them for their relief. They never were in such strait and pinch, particularly through scorching drowth, as they were allowed little or no drink and pent up together, till many of them fainted and were almost suffocated. This was in Leith roads, besides what straits they would readily endure in the custody of such a cruel wretch. In this grievous plight, these captives were carried away in much anguish of spirit, pinched bodies, and disquieted consciences, (at least those who had taken the bond.[[127]]) They were tossed at sea with great tempest of weather for three weeks, till at last their ship cast anchor, to ride awhile among the Orkney Isles, till the storm might calm. But after casting anchor, the ship did drive with great violence upon a rugged shore about the isles, and struck about ten at night on a rock. The cruel captain saw the hazard all were in, and that they might have escaped as some did; yet, as I heard, he would not open the hatches to let the poor prisoners fend for themselves. He with his seamen made their escape by a mast laid over between the ship and the rock ashore. Some leapt on the rock.
[126]. James Corsan, in a letter to his wife, dated from Leith roads, says—“All the trouble they met with since Bothwell was not to be compared to one day in their present circumstances; that their uneasiness was beyond words: yet he owns in very pathetical terms, that the consolations of God overbalanced all, and expresses his hopes that they are near their port, and heaven is opening for them.”—Wodrow, vol. ii. p. 83.
[127]. It appears that some who had taken the bond, had, notwithstanding, been still detained.
“The ship being strong, endured several strokes ere she bilged. The captain and all the rest of the seamen, with about fifty prisoners, some of whom had been above deck before, others had broke out some other way down to the den, and so up again; so that they were to land with their life in: one or two died ashore. While these were thus escaping, the rest who had all been closed up between decks, crying most pitifully, and working as they could to break forth of their prison, but to little purpose; and all these, near two hundred, with lamentable shrieks of dying men—as was related to the writer by one who escaped—did perish. The most part were cast out on the shore dead, and after buried by the country people.”[[128]]
[128]. It is pleasant to notice instances of kindness and benevolence, in times such as these, among the influential men of the prelatical party. I quote from the Memoirs of Brysson, edited by Dr M’Crie, who remarks—“One of these kind lairds is evidently Sir William Drummond of Hawthornden, son of the celebrated poet,” p. 285, Note—“After our defeat, I wist not what to do. However, after some time lurking, I ventured home, where my sister and family were together, who had suffered many wrongs from the enemy, my mother being dead a year before this fell out; and that which is very remarkable, I dwelt betwixt two lairds who were both out in arms against us; and one of them never conformed to the Presbyterian government to his dying day, though he lived thirty-five years after this. And the other was of the same judgment, though he complied with the government afterwards. However, the Lord moved them to favour me in the day of my distress. For they sent for my sister before I came home, and advised her to put all the goods from off the ground, and every thing but what was of present use for the family. One of the gentlemen was so kind, that he desired my sister to send over the milk kine and let them feed with his, and to send over her servants morning and evening to milk them for the use of the family. And ordered her to pack up all things that she thought the enemy might make a prey of, and send them over to his house; which accordingly she did, where they were secure. The other gentleman was no less kind, for he desired her to send the milk ewes over to his ground that she might not lose their milk, and to send her servants to milk them. After that she sent away the horses, oxen, and other yeld beasts, to a friend who lived on the Earl of Wigton’s ground, who received them willingly. Thus the Lord trysted me with favour both from my friends and foes, for which I desire to adore his wonderful providence.”—Memoirs of George Brysson, pp. 284-5.
Nothing in the whole annals of these persecuting times presents a stronger argument against committing civil power to the clergy, than the uniform strenuous opposition made by the bishops and their satellites to every moderate or clement proposal of the Duke of Monmouth. The council, where they possessed a strong majority before his Grace arrived from the army, had written to the king for instructions how to dispose of the prisoners, promising “at the same time, on their part, to execute the laws against rebellion, faction, and schism, as the king should direct them, without gratifying the humours of such as are apt to grow more insolent by his majesty’s grace and goodness, who have been encouraged and hardened in an obstinate opposition to the church by his majesty’s condescensions and indulgences, and proposing that, after the ringleaders were punished capitally, the rabble should be transported to the plantations never to return.”
This model of princes, for whose restoration the cannon of the Castle of Edinburgh still continue annually to be fired, and the public offices still keep holyday, returned a gracious answer, approving of their proposal to send three or four hundred to the plantations, and bring the ringleaders before the justiciary, after which the rest might be dismissed upon signing the bond.
The treatment of the majority has been narrated. We shall now notice the proceedings against those considered ringleaders. The most conspicuous were their ministers Messrs King and Kid. Wodrow mentions an incident which occurred while the former was being carried to Edinburgh, too remarkable to be passed over, especially as that historian is neither a credulous nor an enthusiastic writer:—
“Upon the Lord’s day, orders were given to a party of soldiers immediately to march east and carry Mr John King with them to Edinburgh; and we will find it was their ordinary [practice] to march, and especially to transport prisoners from place to place, on the Sabbath. My accounts of them are, that they were English dragoons. One of them, a profane and profligate wretch, after they were in the street and on horseback, ready to ride off with their prisoner, called for some ale, and drunk a health to the ‘Confusion of the Covenants,’ and another to the ‘Destruction of the People of God,’ and some more very horrid, and rode off. He met with one of his comrades at the Stable-green Port, who, knowing nothing of the matter, asked him where he was going? He answered, ‘to convoy King to hell,’ and galloped up to the rest, whistling and singing. The judgment of God did not linger as to this wretch; he was not many paces forward, in the hollow path a little from the Port, till his horse stumbled; and somewhat or other touching his piece—which was primed and cocked it seems—the carabine went off and shot him dead on the spot. The party went on and carried Mr King to Edinburgh.” Mr Kid was brought thither and imprisoned along with his friend in the tolbooth.
The tyranny of Charles, which was exercised in England as well as in Scotland, had excited much discontent there; and Charles’s advisers were extremely anxious to trace out some grand conspiracy which might enable them to resort to extreme measures there as well as in Scotland, that a similar despotism might be established in both kingdoms. The king therefore directed that these two should be especially examined by torture, in order if possible to discover the conspirators, with which the Scottish managers were very ready to comply, many of them anticipating a rich harvest of new forfeitures. Being disappointed in this, the prisoners were ordered to stand trial before the justiciary. Previously to being brought to the bar, they presented a petition, praying that they might be allowed to prove in exculpation—that they were only present with the army casually, and not intentionally, and were in a manner detained prisoners by them; and such naked presence, without assistance, was not criminal; and that they were so far from being incendiaries to incite the people, they, on the contrary, entreated them to lay down their arms. 2d, That the Duke of Monmouth, by his commission, had power to pardon; and they offered to prove by witnesses that he had proffered them a pardon if they would lay down their arms, and that they had accepted it. 3d, They were willing to engage to live peaceably, and never to keep field-meetings hereafter.
The lords refused this equitable request, or, as Fountainhall expressed it, “repelled their exculpation in respect of the libel,” and, on the 28th of July, their trial proceeded. They were accused of having been in the rebellion and in company with rebels, who, in May last, burned the king’s laws; that they had preached at several field-conventicles where persons were in arms; that they did preach, pray, and exercise to rebels, and continued with them till their defeat, and had been taken prisoners.
Their own confessions, that of Kid emitted under torture, were the only evidence produced against them, and coincided with what they had offered to prove. It was deemed sufficient that they had been with the rebels, and, notwithstanding any extenuating circumstances, must therefore be deemed rebels themselves. The jury brought them in guilty, in terms of their own confession; and the lords sentenced them to be taken to the market cross of Edinburgh upon Thursday, August 14, betwixt two and four of the clock in the afternoon, and to be hanged on a gibbet; and when dead, that their heads and right arms be cut off and disposed of as the council think fit; and that all their land be forfeited, as being guilty of the treasonable crimes foresaid. The judges themselves were so convinced of the peculiar hardship of the case, that they allowed this unusual space between sentence and execution, on purpose that they might have time to apply for a remission, and Mr Stevenson, a friend of theirs, rode post to London to apply for it; but all the avenues to mercy were shut. An evil influence pervaded the whole court; and it is worthy of remark, and ought never to be forgotten, that the most gay, most boisterously mirthful, most joyous, and most irreligious court, headed by the most facetious and witty monarch that ever sat upon the British throne, was the most unfeeling, cold-hearted, cruel, revengeful, and vile that has ever disgraced the annals of our country.
An act of indemnity had been passed; and it might naturally have been supposed that these good men would have received the advantage of it, but the very day on which it was to be proclaimed, was the day chosen on which they were ordered to be executed; so dead to every sense of common decency, as well as of common feeling, were the then rulers of Scotland. In the forenoon of the 14th of August, the magistrates of Edinburgh proceeded to the cross in their robes, and proclaimed the indemnity from a scaffold erected for the purpose. In the afternoon, these two worthies, on another scaffold, were put to death, as if to declare the entire worthlessness of all government clemency, whenever persons of unflinching principle were concerned. They both died with much calmness and serenity; and their dying speeches, which were afterwards published, may well rank with any of the compositions of the times, for elegant simplicity, honest integrity, and a plain energetic avowal of their principles, untainted either by party prejudice or political enthusiasm. Mr Kid, who was labouring under sore bodily indisposition, said—“It may be that there are a great many here that judge my lot very sad and deplorable, I must confess, death in itself is very terrible to flesh and blood; but as it is an outlet to sin, and an inlet to righteousness, it is the Christian’s great and inexpressible privilege.
“And give me leave to say this, 1st, That there is something in a Christian’s condition that can never put him without the reach of unsufferableness, even shame, death, and the cross being included in the promise. And if there be reconciliation between God and the soul, nothing can damp peace through our Lord Jesus Christ; it is a supporting ingredient in the bitterest cup and under the sharpest and fiercest trial he can be exposed unto. This is my mercy, I have somewhat of this to lay claim unto, viz. the intimations of pardon betwixt God and my soul; and as concerning that for which I am condemned, I magnify his grace that I never had the least challenge for it, but, on the contrary, I judge it my honour that ever I was counted worthy to be staged upon such a consideration. I declare before you all, in the sight of God, angels, and men, and in the sight of the sun and all that he has created, that I am a most miserable sinner, in regard of my original and actual transgressions. I must confess they are more than the hairs upon my head, and altogether past reckoning; I cannot but say, as Jacob said, I am less than the least of all God’s mercies; yet, I must declare, to the commendation of the freedom of his grace, that I dare not but say, He has loved me and washed me in his own blood; and well’s me this day that ever I read or heard that faithful saying, ‘Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the chief.’”
He then warned the servants of God against fomenting divisions to the detriment of the gospel, especially as there appeared at that time a great likelihood of its spreading, and dissension would prove a poison in the pot! “As for rebellion against his majesty’s person or lawful authority, the Lord knows my soul abhorreth it, name and thing. Loyal I have been and wills every Christian to be so; and I was ever of this judgment to give to Cesar the things that are Cesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” This excellent man and his most worthy coadjutor, not only had to suffer from the oppression of the oppressors, but from what to them was probably more trying, the cruel scourge of tongues from those they wished to esteem brethren. He therefore felt himself called upon to vindicate his character from these aspersions, and to leave a record of the doctrine he had preached. “According to the measure God has given me,” he continues, “it was my endeavour to commend Christ to the hearts and souls of the people, even repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ; and if this be devisive preaching, I cannot deny it.”
Mr King expressed himself to the same effect. “I bless the Lord,” said the dying martyr, “since infinite wisdom and holy providence hath so carved out my lot to die after this manner, that I die not unwillingly, neither by force; and though possibly I might have shunned such an hard sentence, if I had done things that, though I could, I durst not do; no, not for my soul, I durst not, God knoweth, redeem my life by the loss of my integrity. I bless the Lord that, since I have been a prisoner, he hath wonderfully upholden me, and made out that comfortable word, ‘fear not, be not afraid; I am with thee, I will uphold thee by the right hand of my righteousness.’ I bless his name that I die not as a fool dieth, though I acknowledge I have nothing to boast of myself. I acknowledge I am a sinner, and one of the chiefest that have gone under the name of a professor of religion; yea, amongst the unworthiest of those that have preached the gospel. My sins and corruptions have been many. I have no righteousness of my own; all is vile, like filthy rags. But blessed be God there is a Saviour of sinners, Jesus Christ the righteous, and that through faith in his righteousness I have obtained mercy; through him only I desire to hope for, and to have a happy and glorious victory over sin and satan, hell and death; that I shall attain to the righteousness of the just, and be made partaker of eternal life. I know in whom I have believed, and that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day. I have in my poor capacity preached salvation in his name; and as I have preached, so do I believe. With all my soul I have commended, and yet I do commend, to all of you the riches of his grace and faith in his name, as the alone and only way whereby ye can be saved. As for those things for which sentence of death is passed against me, I bless the Lord, rebellious I have not been. He who is the searcher of hearts, knoweth that neither my design nor practice was against his majesty’s person and just government. I have been loyal, and do recommend it to all to be obedient to higher powers in the Lord.
“That I preached at field-meetings. I am so far from acknowledging that the gospel preached that way was a rendezvousing in rebellion, as it is termed, that I bless the Lord ever he counted me worthy to be a witness to such meetings, which have been so wonderfully countenanced and owned, not only to the conviction, but even to the conversion of many thousands: if I could have preached Christ and salvation in his name, that was my work, and herein have I walked according to the light and rule of the word of God, and as it did become—though one of the meanest—a minister of the gospel.”
Both bore witness to the doctrine and worship, discipline and government, of the church of Scotland by kirk-sessions and presbyteries, synods and general assemblies, to the solemn covenants, also to the public confessions of sins and engagements to duties, and that either as to what concerned personal reformation, or the reformation of the whole land. They also bore witness and testimony against popery, which had so greatly increased, was so much countenanced, and so openly professed. The causes of God’s wrath with the land were particularly noticed and specified by Mr King:—1st, The dreadful slights our Lord Jesus has received in the offers of his gospel. 2d, The horrid profanity that had overspread the whole land. 3d, The horrid perjury in the matter of vows and engagements. 4th, The dreadful formality and supineness in the duties of religion. 5th, Awful ingratitude, what do we render to Him for his goodness? 6th, Want of humility under afflictions. 7th, Dreadful covetousness and minding of our own things more than the things of God; and this among all ranks.
But they both departed, praying for Scotland, and rejoicing in the faith that there would be a resurrection of the name, word, and cause of Christ in their beloved country; and their last aspirations were, “O! that he would return to this land again! repair our breaches, and heal our backslidings! O! that he were pacified towards us! O! that he would pass by Scotland again, and make our time a time of love!” Their heads and right hands were, agreeably to their sentence, cut off, and had the honour of being placed beside those of the venerated Guthrie on the Netherbow Port, to bear witness to heaven, along with them, against the iniquity of the times.
Five others were next selected for immolation as a propitiatory offering to the shade of the grand apostate. Thomas Brown, shoemaker, Edinburgh; Andrew Sword, weaver, Kirkcudbright; John Clide, Kilbride; John Waddel, New Monkland; and James Wood, Newmills—charged with being accomplices in the murder of Archbishop Sharpe, although none of them were in that part of the country at the time when it happened—were accordingly brought before the justiciary on November 10th. Their indictment, as now became the custom, enumerated as charges against them all the occurrences which had taken place during the rising, aggravated by fictitious circumstances of the most revolting nature, i. e. throwing out of their graves the dead bodies of such children as belonged to the orthodox clergy in Glasgow; commanding, by a most insolent act of their supremacy and mock judicatory, all the said orthodox clergy to remove themselves, their wives and families, from the western shires, under pain of death; and threatening with fire and sword all such of his majesty’s good subjects as would not join them; plundering and ravaging their houses, and carrying off their horses and arms; declining the bond; and finally, and above all, refusing to call the late rebellion a rebellion.
Previously to proceeding with the trial, the bond was offered to them judicially, both the crown lawyers and judges upon this as upon several other occasions appearing to have entertained some sympathy for the sufferers; but they peremptorily refused to take it, as they considered that they would thereby have been condemning the rising at Bothwell, and their own conduct in what they considered a justifiable assertion of the principles to which they had solemnly sworn obedience in the covenants. Four of them resolutely avowed their having appeared in arms at Bothwell, and were of course found guilty by the jury upon their own confession of that fact alone; yet, by a strange vindictive perversity, the court sentenced them “to be carried to the moor of Magus in the sheriffdom of Fife, the place where his Grace the Archbishop of St Andrews was murdered, upon the 18th of November instant, and there to be hanged till they be dead, and their bodies to be hung in chains until they rot, and all their lands, goods, and gear to fall to his majesty’s use.”
James Wood was only proven by the evidence of some soldiers to have been taken at or after Bothwell without arms; and as numbers in that part of the country were known to have gone to the spot as mere spectators, a humane tribunal would have given them the advantage of the supposition that they had been present from a similar motive. But he was included in the same verdict, and doomed to the same punishment, which was accordingly inflicted at the place appointed, though some difference appears in the date of the execution and the date of their dying testimonies, the latter being dated 25th November, a week beyond the term allowed by the former, which might have been given to allow of an application to the king for mercy. If it was, they found none from their earthly sovereign; but they all died in the humble confidence of being reconciled to God by Jesus Christ.
Brown, who went up the ladder first, declared, before being turned off, “if every hair of his head were a man, and every drop of his blood were a life, he would cordially and heartily lay them down for Christ and this cause for which he was now sentenced.”
Sword sang the 34th Psalm, and said to the spectators, “I cannot but commend Christ and his cross to you. I would not exchange my lot for a thousand worlds!” He had lived four or five score of miles distant from that place, and never in his life saw a bishop that he knew to be a bishop.
James Wood also affirmed that he had never been in that part of the country before, nor seen a bishop in his life! and as to appearing at Bothwell Bridge, he added, “for my own part, I am so far from thinking it rebellion, that I bless God I was a man to be there, though a man most unable for war, and unskilful, because of my infirm arm: and I bless God that gave me a life to lay down for his cause; and though in remarkable providence he took not my life in that day, yet for holy and good ends he spared it to lay it down this day; and I am so far from rueing any thing that I had done that day in my appearing for Christ and his cause, that I would heartily wish if I were to live to see as many men every year gathered together for the defence of the gospel. I would count it my honour to be with them.” “And now, my friends, I am not a whit afraid to go up this ladder, and to lay down my life this day, for it is the best day ever yet mine eyes saw.” And being up almost to the top of the ladder, plucking up the napkin, he said, “Now I am going to lay down this life and to step out of time into eternity, and if I had as many lives as there are hairs on my head, or drops of blood in my body, I would willingly lay them down for Christ, and for you all that are here on Christ’s account.”
John Waddel, respecting the bishop’s death, said, “I declare I was never over the water of Forth in this country before this time.” “I am sentenced to die here because I would not call it rebellion being with my friends at Bothwell Bridge, and because I would not take that bond, binding me hereafter never to lift arms against the king nor his authority, which thing in conscience I could not do; for, whatever others think of it, to me it says, that it is a denying of all appearances for Christ and his cause that hath formerly been; and likewise it says to me, that we shall never any more lift arms for the defence of Christ’s gospel against any party whatsoever that seems to oppose it, which is far from the word of God:—‘If any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him,’ and the covenants, National and Solemn League, which were publicly burnt in our nation—for which God in his own time will yet arise—which we are bound to maintain.” “And now, sirs, I am not a whit discouraged to see my three brethren hanging before mine eyes, nor before all this multitude to pray.” He then prayed; and being thrown over,
John Clide was brought to the ladder. When he had reached it, he turned round and said, “I think our being fetched here is like that which we have in Scripture about what Herodias said to Herod anent John the Baptist his head, to gratify the unsatiableness of that lewd woman; nothing would satisfy the lust of our persecutors, but our blood, and in this manner and place, to gratify the bishop’s friends. But the ground of my being sentenced is because I was found in arms with that poor handful at Bothwell Bridge and would not call it rebellion; and because I would not take that bond, which thing I had in my offer, and my life upon the taking of it; and was threatened by some to take it, and allured and persuaded by others, which I could not in conscience do, because it binds me hereafter that I should not appear for Christ and his cause. I durst not do it, for I was not sure of my life, no not one moment; and I durst not procure the wrath of God at such a rate; for I judge the loss of my soul to be more dreadful than the loss of the life of my body, and likewise that it is more hazardful the offending of God than gaining the greatest advantage in the world.
“I could not stay at home, but judged it my duty to come forth; for I could not see how I could evite that curse—‘Curse ye, Meroz; curse ye bitterly those that would not come out to the help of the Lord against the mighty.’ And I bless the Lord for keeping me straight. I desire to speak it to the commendation of free grace; and this I am speaking from my own experience, that there are none who will lippen to God and depend upon him for direction, but they shall be keeped straight and right; but to be kept from tribulation, that is not the bargain; for he hath said that through much tribulation we must enter the kingdom, for he deals not with us as satan does—for satan lets us see the bonniest side of the tentation, but our Lord Jesus lets us see the roughest side and the blackest. After that, the sweetest thing comes! And he tells us the worst that will happen to us; for he hath not promised to keep us from trouble, but he hath promised to be with us in it, and what needs more?
“I bless the Lord for keeping me to this very hour: little would I have thought a twelvemonth since that the Lord would have taken me a poor ploughman-lad, and have honoured me so highly, as to have made me first appear for him and then keep me straight; and now hath keeped me to this very hour to lay down my life for him.” At the ladder foot, he addressed his brother and other relatives who were standing and weeping around him—“Weep not for me, brother; but weep for the poor land, and seek God, and make him sure for yourself, and he shall be better to you than ten brethren. Now, farewell, all friends and relations; farewell, brother, sister, mother. Welcome, Lord Jesus; into thy hands I commit my spirit!” And then lifting the napkin off his face, he said, “Dear friends, be not discouraged because of the cross, nor at this ye have seen this day, for I hope you have seen no discouragement in me, and you shall see no more!”
While these sanguinary proceedings were going forward, the Scottish rulers were not less assiduous in the more lucrative departments of persecution, rendering even their acts of indemnity or indulgence the means of pecuniary oppression; for the conditions upon which these were granted were so hard, and the penalties for their infraction so severe, that few would accept of them, and those who did, found them both burthensome to their conscience and heavy on their purse, as a common requisition was, that the parties should bind themselves, their families, and dependants, under a specified sum, to regular attendance on the ordinances and implicit compliance with all the injunctions of the established clergy, nor harbour or hold any communication with those who acted otherwise. Absence from the parish church, if accompanied with any suspicious symptoms, constituted rebellion; and associating with rebels, was construed into the same offence, punishable by death, but commutable by fining or confiscation of rents, money, and moveables; so that pretexts were never wanting for plundering the Presbyterians, wherever “the honest party” were possessed of property.
More effectually to scour the country, the justiciary was required to divide into two sections or circuit courts; the one to traverse the west and south, the other the north and east. By a proclamation sent before them, the proprietors or occupiers of the lands on which any of the rebels lived, were required to apprehend and imprison them till the courts arrived, when they were to present them for prosecution; and if they should be either under hiding or fugitive themselves, their wives, children, and servants were to be ordered off the ground. Clerks were sent before to take up lists of all who were named in the proclamation, or should be informed against as having been at field-conventicles, or having threatened, robbed, or abused the orthodox clergy, who were all to be summoned and examined upon oath respecting their possessions in lands, money, and bonds, in order that the proceeds might be forthcoming in case they should be found guilty. Witnesses were to be prepared and held in readiness—sixteen in every rural parish, and twenty-four in every royal burgh or burgh of barony, who were to give information, under a penalty of forty pounds Scots, of all who had been at Bothwell, or who had harboured any that were there. They were also to name all whom they heard or suspected of being there. The sheriffs and justices of peace were exceedingly active in searching out the proper victims for spoliation, and so rigid in their duty, that they included several in their rolls who had been dead or left the place some time before. The curates were very zealous; and their diligence in this business, contrasted with their carelessness in their spiritual functions, did not tend much to exalt their characters or endear their office. Extensive as the range of sedition had been made, yet were the insatiable managers unsatisfied. They therefore had recourse to an old statute, long in dissuetude, by which all who did not attend the king’s host were liable to be punished with death; and changing the award into a pecuniary mulct, they with rigorous impartiality fleeced the lieges in all the devoted counties where there had been the smallest symptoms of discontent.
In October, the circuit-courts commenced their operations; but, as they either kept no record of their proceedings, or these records have been destroyed, the particulars of their extortions are but imperfectly known, only the general devastation they spread was long remembered; the absent heritors were denounced, and numbers of them forfeited, whose estates were bestowed upon noblemen, gentlemen, and soldiers, as rewards for their ready and unflinching obedience to the most cruel and barbarous decreets of the council, which the greater part of them kept hold of till the Revolution restored them to their rightful owners.
Besides this, the council gifted the moveables of such as were reported to have been at Bothwell, which laid the whole of those who were known to favour Presbyterian principles open to the most vexatious visitations; for the donators, to whom was committed “the uplifting of the spulzie,” literally “rode upon the top of their commissions,” exacting to the utmost, and, by returning oftener than once, frequently subjected the same persons to repeated pillage for the same accusation. Another source of wealth to the banditti who now ravaged Scotland, was the compositions of the fines paid to the clerks, or largesses to the officers, to escape the rifling searches of the soldiers, who, whenever they chose, could enter the houses of the most peaceable and destroy their furniture by casting it about, and rip up and render useless their beds and bedclothes, by thrusting them through with their swords, to find if any “cursed Whiggs” were concealed among them. The shires of Lanark and Ayr were peculiarly harassed—shires which, by every principle of sound policy, ought to have been peculiarly favoured, as they were the most industrious and wealthy, but unfortunately they were also reputed the most pious. Wretched as the country was, yet years more grievous followed. Monmouth while there had acted with as much moderation as circumstances would permit, and discouraged as far as possible the virulent spirit of clerical domination which the bishops and curates were so eager to display. When he went to London, he had carried with him very favourable impressions of the Scottish character, and was desirous to infuse somewhat of his own kindness into the councils of his father. Before he left Edinburgh, upon receiving a petition to present to the king, he said, “I think if any place get favour, it should be Scotland; for a gallanter gentry and more loving people, I never saw;” and previous to setting out, he procured what was termed the third indulgence, which was published at Edinburgh by proclamation, June 29. By it, ministers were prohibited under pain of death from holding field-conventicles, and all who attended were to be deemed traitors; but all laws against house conventicles south of the Tay, were suspended, “excepting the town of Edinburgh and two miles round about the same, with the lordships of Musselburgh and Dalkeith; the cities of St Andrews, Glasgow, and Stirling, and a mile about each of them; being fully resolved not to suffer the seat of OUR government nor OUR universities to be pestered with any irregularities whatsoever.” One preacher was to be allowed to each parish upon giving in their names to the privy council and finding security for their peaceable behaviour, provided they had not engaged in the late rebellion, nor been admitted, i. e. licensed, by the unconform ministers; assuring, at the same time, all who should offend, that we will maintain our authority and laws by such effectual courses, as, in ruining the authors, could not be thought rigid, especially after such unmerited favour. “This our forbearance being to continue only during our royal favour.”
These tokens of kindliness, stinted as they were, proved very unpalatable to the harpies who were fattening upon the spoils of their patriotic countrymen; and they immediately unbosomed their difficulties to their friend Lauderdale, in the form of an inquiring epistle from the council, dated July 12:—“There being doubts,” say they, “as to the sense of that clause in the proclamation, June 29, suspending all letters of intercommuning, and all other executions, if these words ‘all other executions’ do import that all persons, whether preachers at field-conventicles, or other persons, who being ringleaders of these rebellious rendezvouses, and have been seized according to former proclamations, promising sums of money to the apprehenders, the imprisoned should be set at liberty or not; and if such as have been imprisoned till they pay the fines imposed upon them by sentence of council or other judges, shall also be enlarged and set at liberty; and if these field-preachers and other persons, qualified as aforesaid, are to be liberate—they crave his majesty may declare his pleasure upon what terms and conditions they are to be liberate.” The answer appears to have been favourable to the persecuted.
Several ministers who were in prison for holding conventicles, but had not been at Bothwell, were now set at liberty upon enacting themselves in the books of privy council for their peaceable behaviour, and that they would not preach at field-conventicles. Others, who could not conscientiously enter into such engagements, were dismissed for the time, upon giving security to appear when called for. Among these were fourteen prisoners on the Bass, among whom was Fraser of Brea, who tells us in his memoirs that in twenty-four hour’s space, they found security for eight hundred pounds; “for we would not,” he adds, “give obligement not to rise in arms, nor to forbear field-meetings, because we saw no law for it, and because it was considered by us dishonourable, and to reflect upon our ministry.”
Anxious to improve this breathing time, a numerous meeting of ministers assembled at Edinburgh, August 8, to consider what steps should be taken, and proceeded to re-organize, as far as in them lay, the presbyterial form of their broken down and afflicted church; but before they could realize their intentions, indeed almost ere they enunciated them, the wind passed over them and they were gone! Towards the latter end of the same month, Charles was attacked with fever, and his life supposed in danger. The Duke of York, who had been obliged by the ascendency of the patriotic party to retire from court and reside abroad, was immediately sent for and quickly arrived at Windsor. His sudden appearance took his opponents by surprise, and, by the influence which he had over his brother, he effected the fall of Monmouth, who was sent into that exile from which he himself had so unexpectedly returned. With his elevation, all hopes of favour towards the Presbyterians vanished, and the persecution recommenced with renewed fury. A letter from the king, September 18, announced that he had recalled his commission to the Duke of Buccleuch and Monmouth as General. On the very next day, a warrant was granted by the council to Lieutenant-General Dalziel to apprehend whoever had not taken the bond or who harboured recusants, and secure them in prison till they be brought to justice—to dissipate field-conventicles and seize whoever were present at them; and they indemnify all slaughter or mutilation in case of resistance. They also granted him power, along with several others, to sequestrate the rents of lands, sums of money, and moveables belonging to heritors or others, who came under their denomination of rebels, in order to prevent their being embezzled!!
The Duke of York paid a short visit about this time to Scotland. With the characteristic cunning of a papist, who first cajoles before he ensnares a community, he carried himself towards all with as great suavity as his severe unyielding temper and ungracious manner would permit; but he especially cultivated the goodwill of the Highland chieftains, who had a leaning towards popery, and whose assistance he counted on to aid him in the contemplated destruction of a heretical religion, and forcible establishment of his own. Though admitted to act as a privy councillor, without taking any of the oaths at the king’s particular desire, he did not publicly interfere with political matters, but he paved the way for his subsequent rule, and received from the authorities, particularly the magistrates of Edinburgh, the homage and honour so readily paid to an heir-apparent, being feasted sumptuously, and lauded excessively for excellences which, if he did not, he ought to have possessed, and which they were willing to suppose his innate modesty alone prevented him from exhibiting.