VALE OF GANDERCLEUGH.
The Vale of Gandercleugh may perhaps have been suggested by Lesmahagow, a village and parish in the west country, not far from Drumclog. In the churchyard are interred several of the Covenanters,—in particular, David Steel, who was slain by Captain Crichton, the cavalier whose life was written by Swift—in a note to which Sir Walter Scott mentions Old Mortality as having for a long time preserved Steel’s grave-stone from decay.
HISTORY OF THE PERIOD.[22]
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“We have observed the early antipathy mutually entertained by the Scottish Presbyterians and the House of Stuart. It seems to have glowed in the breast even of the good-natured Charles II. He might have remembered that, in 1651, the Presbyterians had fought, bled, and ruined themselves in his cause. But he rather recollected their early faults than their late repentance; and even their services were combined with the recollection of the absurd and humiliating circumstances of personal degradation,[23] to which their pride had subjected him, while they professed to espouse his cause. As a man of pleasure, he hated their stern inflexible rigour, which stigmatized follies even more deeply than crimes; and he whispered to his confidants, that, ‘therefore, it was not wonderful that, in the first year of his restoration, he formally re-established prelacy in Scotland.’ But it is surprising that, with his father’s example before his eyes, he should not have been satisfied to leave at freedom the consciences of those who could not reconcile themselves to the new system. The religious opinions of sectaries have a tendency, like the water of some springs, to become soft and mild when freely exposed to open day. Who can recognise, in the decent and industrious Quakers and Anabaptists, the wild and ferocious tenets which distinguished their sects while yet they were honoured with the distinction of the scourge and the pillory? Had the system of coercion against the Presbyterians been continued until our day, Blair and Robertson would have preached in the wilderness, and only discovered their powers of eloquence and composition, by rolling along a deeper torrent of gloomy fanaticism.
“The western counties distinguished themselves by their opposition to the prelatic system. Three hundred and fifty ministers, ejected from their churches and livings, wandered through the mountains, sowing the seeds of covenanted doctrine, while multitudes of fanatical followers pursued them, to reap the forbidden crop. These Conventicles, as they were called, were denounced by the law, and their frequenters dispersed by military force. The genius of the persecuted became stubborn, obstinate, and ferocious; and, although Indulgences were tardily granted to some Presbyterian ministers, few of the true Covenanters, or Whigs, as they were called, would condescend to compound with a prelatic government, or to listen even to their own favourite doctrine under the auspices of the King. From Richard Cameron, their apostle, this rigid sect acquired the name of Cameronians. They preached and prayed against the Indulgence, and against the Presbyterians who availed themselves of it, because their accepting of this royal boon was a tacit acknowledgment of the King’s supremacy in ecclesiastical matters.
“Upon these bigoted and persecuted fanatics, and by no means upon the Presbyterians at large, are to be charged the wild anarchical principles of anti-monarchy and assassination which polluted the period when they flourished.
“The Conventicles were now attended by armed crowds; and a formidable insurrection took place in the west, and rolled on towards the capital. It was terminated by a defeat at the Pentland Hills, where General Dalziel routed the insurgents with great loss, 28th November, 1666.
“The Whigs, now become desperate, adopted the most desperate principles; and retaliating, as far as they could, the intolerating persecution which they endured, they openly disclaimed allegiance to any monarch who should not profess presbytery and subscribe the covenant. These principles were not likely to conciliate the favour of government, and, as we wade onward in the history of the times, the scenes become yet darker. At length, one would imagine the parties had agreed to divide the kingdom of vice between them,—the hunters assuming to themselves open profligacy and legalized oppression, and the hunted the opposite attributes of hypocrisy, fanaticism, disloyalty, and midnight assassination. The troopers and cavaliers became enthusiasts in the pursuit of the Covenanters. If Messrs. Kid, King, Cameron, Peden, etc., boasted of prophetic powers, and were often warned of the approach of the soldiers by supernatural impulse, Captain John Crichton, on the other side, dreamed dreams and saw visions, (chiefly, indeed, after having drunk hard,) in which the lurking-holes of the rebels were discovered to his imagination.[24]
“Our ears are scarcely more shocked with the profane execration of the persecutors[25] than with the strange and insolent familiarity used towards the Deity by the persecuted fanatics. Their indecent modes of prayer, their extravagant expectations of miraculous assistance, and their supposed inspirations, might easily furnish out a tale, at which the good would sigh and the gay would laugh.[26]
“The militia and standing army soon became unequal to the task of enforcing conformity and suppressing Conventicles. In their aid, and to force compliance with a test proposed by government, the Highland clans were raised, and poured down into Ayrshire; and armed hosts of undisciplined mountaineers, speaking a different language, and professing, many of them, another religion, were let loose to ravage and plunder this unfortunate country; and it is truly astonishing to find how few acts of cruelty they perpetrated, and how seldom they added murder to pillage. Additional levies of horse were also raised, under the name of independent troops, and great part of them placed under the command of James Grahame of Claverhouse, a man well known to fame by his subsequent title of Viscount of Dundee, but better remembered in the western shires under the designation of the bloody Clavers.
“In truth, he appears to have combined the virtues and vices of a savage chief. Fierce, unbending, and rigorous, no emotion of compassion prevented his commanding and witnessing every detail of military execution against the Nonconformists. Undoubtedly brave, and steadily faithful to his prince, he sacrificed himself in the cause of James when he was deserted by all the world. The Whigs whom he persecuted, daunted by his ferocity and courage, conceived him to be impassive to their bullets, and that he had sold himself, for temporal greatness, to the seducer of mankind. It is still believed, that a cup of wine, presented to him by his butler, changed into clotted blood; and that, when he plunged his feet into cold water, their touch caused it to boil. The steed which bore him was supposed to be the gift of Satan; and precipices are shown where a fox could hardly keep his feet, down which the infernal charger conveyed him safely in pursuit of the wanderers. It is remembered with terror that Claverhouse was successful in every engagement with the Whigs, except that at Drumclog, or Loudon Hill. The history of Burly will bring us immediately to the causes and circumstances of that event.
“John Balfour of Kinloch, commonly called Burly, was one of the fiercest of the proscribed sect. A gentleman by birth, he was, says his biographer, ‘zealous and honest-hearted, courageous in every enterprise, and a brave soldier—seldom any escaping that came into his hands.’
“Crichton says that he was once chamberlain to Archbishop Sharpe, and, by negligence or dishonesty, had incurred a large arrear, which occasioned his being active in his master’s assassination. But of this I know no other evidence than Crichton’s assertion and a hint in Wodrow. Burly, for that is his common designation, was brother-in-law to Hackston of Rathillet, a wild, enthusiastic character, who joined daring courage and skill in the sword to the fiery zeal of his sect. Burly himself was less eminent for religious fervour than for the active and violent share which he had in the most desperate enterprises of his party. His name does not appear among the Covenanters who were denounced for the affair at Pentland. But, in 1677, Robert Hamilton, afterwards commander of the insurgents at Loudon Hill and Bothwell Bridge, with several other Nonconformists, were assembled at this Burly’s house, in Fife. There they were attacked by a party of soldiers, commanded by Captain Carstairs, whom they beat off, and wounded desperately one of his party. For this resistance to authority they were declared rebels.
“The next exploit in which Burly was engaged was of a bloodier complexion and more dreadful celebrity. It was well known that James Sharpe, Archbishop of St. Andrew’s, was regarded by the rigid Presbyterians not only as a renegade, who had turned back from the spiritual plough, but as the principal author of the rigours exercised against their sect. He employed, as an agent of his oppression, one Carmichael, a decayed gentleman. The industry of this man in procuring information, and in enforcing the severe penalties against Conventiclers, having excited the resentment of the Cameronians, nine of their number, of whom Burly and his brother-in-law, Hackston, were the leaders, assembled, with the purpose of waylaying and murdering Carmichael; but, while they searched for him in vain, they received tidings that the Archbishop himself was at hand. The party resorted to prayer, after which they agreed, unanimously, that the Lord had delivered the wicked Haman into their hands. In the execution of the supposed will of heaven, they agreed to put themselves under the command of a leader, and they requested Hackston of Rathillet to accept the office; which he declined, alleging, that, should he comply with their request, the slaughter might be imputed to a private quarrel which existed betwixt him and the Archbishop. The command was then offered to Burly, who accepted it without scruple; and they galloped off in pursuit of the Archbishop’s carriage, which contained himself and his daughter. Being well mounted, they easily overtook and disarmed the prelate’s attendants. Burly, crying out, ‘Judas, be taken!’ rode up to the carriage, wounded the postilion, and hamstrung one of the horses. He then fired into the coach a piece, charged with several bullets, so near, that the Archbishop’s gown was set on fire. The rest, coming up, dismounted, and dragged him out of the carriage, when, frightened and wounded, he crawled towards Hackston, who still remained on horseback, and begged for mercy. The stern enthusiast contented himself with answering, that he would not himself lay a hand on him. Burly and his men again fired a volley upon the kneeling old man, and were in the act of riding off, when one, who remained to fasten the girth of his horse, unfortunately heard the daughter of their victim call to the servant for help, exclaiming that his master was still alive. Burly then again dismounted, struck off the prelate’s hat with his foot, and cleft his skull with his shable, (broadsword,) although one of the party (probably Rathillet,) exclaimed, ‘Spare these grey hairs!’ The rest pierced him with repeated wounds. They plundered the carriage, and rode off, leaving, beside the mangled corpse, the daughter, who was herself wounded in her pious endeavour to interpose betwixt her father and his murderers. The murder is accurately represented in bas-relief, upon a beautiful monument, erected to the memory of Archbishop Sharpe, in the metropolitan church of St. Andrew’s. This memorable example of fanatic revenge was acted upon Magus Muir, near St. Andrew’s, 3rd May, 1679.
“Burly was of course obliged to leave Fife; and, upon the 25th of the same month, he arrived in Evandale, in Lanarkshire, along with Hackston, and a fellow called Dingwall, or Daniel, one of the same bloody band. Here he joined his old friend Hamilton, already mentioned; and, as they resolved to take up arms, they were soon at the head of such a body of the ‘chased-and-tossed western men’ as they thought equal to keep the field. They resolved to commence their exploits upon 29th May, 1674, being the anniversary of the Restoration, appointed to be kept a holiday by Act of Parliament—an institution which they esteemed a presumptuous and unholy solemnity. Accordingly, at the head of eighty horse, tolerably appointed, Hamilton, Burly, and Hackston entered the royal burgh of Rutherglen, extinguished the bonfires made in honour of the day, burned at the cross the Acts of Parliament in favour of prelacy and suppression of Conventicles, as well as those acts of council which regulated the Indulgence granted to Presbyterians. Against all these acts they entered their solemn protest, or testimony, as they called it; and, having affixed it to the cross, concluded with prayer and psalms. Being now joined by a large body of foot, so that their strength seems to have amounted to five or six hundred men, though very indifferently armed, they encamped upon Loudon Hill. Claverhouse, who was in the garrison of Glasgow, instantly marched against the insurgents, at the head of his own troop of cavalry and others, amounting to about one hundred and fifty men. He arrived at Hamilton, on the 1st of June, so unexpectedly, as to make prisoner John King, a famous preacher among the wanderers, and rapidly continued his march, carrying his captive along with him, till he came to the village of Drumclog, about a mile east of Loudon Hill, and twelve miles south-west of Hamilton. At the same distance from this place, the insurgents were skilfully posted in a boggy strait, almost inaccessible to cavalry, having a broad ditch in their front. Claverhouse’s dragoons discharged their carbines, and made an attempt to charge. Burly, who commanded the handful of horse belonging to the Whigs, instantly led them down on the disordered squadrons of Claverhouse, who were, at the same time, vigorously assaulted by the foot, headed by the gallant Cleland and the enthusiastic Hackston. Claverhouse himself was forced to fly, and was in the utmost danger of being taken, his horse’s belly being cut open by the stroke of a scythe, so that the poor animal trailed his bowels for more than a mile. In this flight he passed King, the minister, lately his prisoner, but now deserted by his guard in the general confusion. The preacher hallooed to the flying commander ‘to halt and take his prisoner with him;’ or, as others say, ‘to stay and take the afternoon’s preaching.’ Claverhouse, at length remounted, continued his retreat to Glasgow. He lost in the skirmish about twenty of his troopers, and his own cornet and kinsman, Robert Grahame. Only four of the other side were killed, among whom was Dingwall, or Daniel, an associate of Burly in Sharpe’s murder. ‘The rebels,’ says Crichton, ‘finding the cornet’s body, and supposing it to be that of Clavers, because the name of Grahame was wrought in the shirt-neck, treated it with the utmost inhumanity—cutting off his nose, picking out his eyes, and stabbing it through in a hundred places.’ The same charge is brought by Guild, in his Bellum Bothwellianum, in which occurs the following account of the skirmish at Drumclog:—
“‘Although Burly was among the most active leaders in the action, he was not the commander-in-chief. That honour belonged to Robert Hamilton, brother of Sir William Hamilton of Preston, a gentleman who, like most of those at Drumclog, had imbibed the very wildest principles of fanaticism. The Cameronian account of the insurrection states, that “Mr. Hamilton discovered a great deal of bravery and valour, both in the conflict with, and pursuit of, the enemy; but when he and some others were pursuing the enemy, others flew too greedily upon the spoil, small as it was, instead of pursuing the victory; and some, without Mr. Hamilton’s knowledge, and against his strict command, gave five of these bloody enemies quarter, and let them go. This greatly grieved Mr. Hamilton, when he saw some of Babel’s brats spared, after the Lord had delivered them into their hands, that they might dash them against the stones (Psalm cxxxvii. 9). In his own account of this, he reckons the sparing of these enemies, and letting them go, to be among their first steppings aside, for which he feared that the Lord would not honour them to do much more for them, and says that he was neither for taking favours from, nor giving favours to, the Lord’s enemies.” Burly was not a likely man to fall into this sort of backsliding. He disarmed one of the Duke of Hamilton’s servants in the action, and desired him to tell his master he would keep, till meeting, the pistols he had taken from him. The man described Burly to the Duke as a little stout man, squint-eyed, and of a most ferocious aspect; from which it appears that Burly’s figure corresponded to his manners, and perhaps gave rise to his nickname, Burly signifying strong. He was with the insurgents till the battle of Bothwell Bridge, and afterwards fled to Holland. He joined the Prince of Orange, but died at sea during the passage. The Cameronians still believe he had obtained liberty from the Prince to be avenged of those who had persecuted the Lord’s people; but, through his death, the laudable design of purging the land with their blood is supposed to have fallen to the ground.’
“It has often been remarked, that the Scottish, notwithstanding their national courage, were always unsuccessful when fighting for their religion. The cause lay not in the principle, but in the mode of its application. A leader, like Mahomet, who is, at the same time, the prophet of his tribe, may avail himself of religious enthusiasm, because it comes to the aid of discipline, and is a powerful means of attaining the despotic command essential to the success of a general. But among the insurgents in the reign of the last Stuarts, were mingled preachers, who taught different shades of the Presbyterian doctrine; and, minute as these shades sometimes were, neither the several shepherds nor their flocks could unite in a common cause. This will appear from the transactions leading to the battle of Bothwell Bridge.
“We have seen that the party which defeated Claverhouse at Loudon Hill were Cameronians, whose principles consisted in disowning all temporal authority which did not flow from and through the Solemn League and Covenant. This doctrine, which is still retained by a scattered remnant of the sect in Scotland, is in theory, and would be in practice, inconsistent with the safety of any well-regulated government, because the Covenanters deny to their governors that toleration which was iniquitously refused to themselves.
“In many respects, therefore, we cannot be surprised at the anxiety and vigour with which the Cameronians were persecuted, although we may be of opinion that milder means would have induced a melioration of their principles. These men, as already noticed, excepted against such Presbyterians as were contented to exercise their worship under the Indulgence granted by government, or, in other words, who would have been satisfied with toleration for themselves, without insisting on a revolution in the state, or even in the Church government.
“When, however, the success at Loudon Hill was spread abroad, a number of preachers, gentlemen, and common people, who had embraced the more moderate doctrine, joined the army of Hamilton, thinking that the difference in their opinions ought not to prevent their acting in the common cause. The insurgents were repulsed in an attack upon the town of Glasgow, which, however, Claverhouse shortly afterwards thought it necessary to evacuate. They were now nearly in full possession of the west of Scotland, and pitched their camp at Hamilton, where, instead of modelling and disciplining their army, the Cameronians and Erastians (for so the violent insurgents chose to call the more moderate Presbyterians) only debated, in council of war, the real cause of their being in arms. Hamilton, their general, was the leader of the first party; Mr. John Welsh, a minister, headed the Erastians. The latter so far prevailed as to get a declaration drawn up, in which they owned the King’s government; but the publication of it gave rise to new quarrels. Each faction had its own set of leaders, all of whom aspired to be officers; and there were actually two councils of war, issuing contrary orders and declarations, at the same time—the one owning the King, and the other designating him a malignant, bloody, and perjured tyrant.
“Meanwhile, their numbers and zeal were magnified at Edinburgh, and great alarm excited lest they should march eastward. Not only was the foot militia instantly called out, but proclamations were issued, directing all the heritors in the eastern, southern, and northern shires, to repair to the King’s host, with their best horses, arms, and retainers. In Fife, and other counties, where the Presbyterian doctrines prevailed, many gentlemen disobeyed this order, and were afterwards severely fined. Most of them alleged, in excuse, the apprehension of disquiet from their wives. A respectable force was soon assembled, and James Duke of Buccleuch and Monmouth, was sent down by Charles to take the command, furnished with instructions not unfavourable to the Presbyterians. The royal army now moved slowly forward towards Hamilton, and reached Bothwell Moor on the 22nd of June, 1679. The insurgents were encamped, chiefly in the Duke of Hamilton’s park, along the Clyde, which separated the two armies. Bothwell Bridge, which is long and narrow, had then a portal in the middle, with gates, which the Covenanters shut, and barricadoed with stones and logs of timber. This important post was defended by three hundred of their best men, under Hackston of Rathillet and Hall of Haughhead. Early in the morning, this party crossed the bridge and skirmished with the royal vanguard, now advanced as far as the village of Bothwell; but Hackston speedily retired to his post at the west end of Bothwell Bridge.
“While the dispositions made by the Duke of Monmouth announced his purpose of assailing the pass, the more moderate of the insurgents resolved to offer terms. Ferguson of Kaitlock, a gentleman of landed fortune, and David Hume, a clergyman, carried to the Duke of Monmouth a supplication, demanding free exercise of their religion, a free Parliament, and a free general assembly of the Church. The Duke heard their demands with his natural mildness, and assured them he would interpose with his Majesty in their behalf, on condition of their immediately dispersing themselves, and yielding up their arms. Had the insurgents been all of the moderate opinion, the proposal would have been accepted, much bloodshed saved, and perhaps some permanent advantage derived to their party; or had they been all Cameronians, their defence would have been fierce and desperate. But, while their motley and misassorted officers were debating upon the Duke’s proposal, his field-pieces were already planted on the eastern side of the river, to cover the attack of the footguards, who were led on by Lord Livingston to force the bridge. Here Hackston maintained his post with zeal and courage; nor was it till his ammunition was expended, and every support denied him by the general, that he reluctantly abandoned the important pass. When his party were drawn back, the Duke’s army slowly, and with their cannon in front, defiled along the bridge, and formed in line of battle as they came over the river. The Duke commanded the foot, and Claverhouse the cavalry. It would seem that these movements could not have been performed without at least some loss, had the enemy been serious in opposing them. But the insurgents were otherwise employed. With the strangest delusion that ever fell upon devoted beings, they chose these precious moments to cashier their officers, and elect others in their room. In this important operation they were at length disturbed by the Duke’s cannon, at the first discharge of which the horse of the Covenanters wheeled and rode off, breaking and trampling down the ranks of their infantry in their flight. The Cameronian account blames Weir of Greenridge, a commander of the horse, who is termed a sad Achan in the camp. The more moderate party lay the whole blame on Hamilton, whose conduct, they say, left the world to debate whether he was most traitor, coward, or fool. The generous Monmouth was anxious to spare the blood of his infatuated countrymen, by which he incurred much blame among the high-flying Royalists. Lucky it was for the insurgents that the battle did not happen a day later, when old General Dalziel, who divided with Claverhouse the terror and hatred of the Whigs, arrived in the camp, with a commission to supersede Monmouth as commander-in-chief. He is said to have upbraided the Duke publicly with his lenity, and heartily to have wished his own commission had come a day sooner, when, as he expressed himself, ‘these rogues should never more have troubled the King or country.’ But, notwithstanding the merciful orders of the Duke of Monmouth, the cavalry made great slaughter among the fugitives, of whom four hundred were slain.
“There were two Gordons of Earlston, father and son. They were descended of an ancient family in the west of Scotland, and their progenitors were believed to have been favourers of the reformed doctrine, and possessed of a translation of the Bible as early as the days of Wickliffe. William Gordon, the father, was in 1663 summoned before the privy council, for keeping Conventicles in his house and woods. By another act of council he was banished out of Scotland; but the sentence was never put into execution. In 1667, Earlston was turned out of his house, which was converted into a garrison for the King’s soldiers. He was not in the battle of Bothwell Bridge, but he was met hastening towards it by some English dragoons engaged in the pursuit, already commenced. As he refused to surrender, he was instantly slain.
“His son, Alexander Gordon of Earlston, was not a Cameronian, but one of the more moderate class of Presbyterians, whose sole object was freedom of conscience and relief from the oppressive laws against Nonconformists. He joined the insurgents shortly after the skirmish at Loudon Hill. He appears to have been active in forwarding the supplication sent to the Duke of Monmouth. After the battle, he escaped discovery, by flying into a house at Hamilton, belonging to one of his tenants, and disguising himself in a female attire. His person was proscribed, and his estate of Earlston was bestowed upon Colonel Theophilus Ogilthorpe by the crown, first in security for £5000, and afterwards in perpetuity.
“The same author mentions a person tried at the circuit-court, July 10th, 1683, solely for holding intercourse with Earlston, an intercommuned rebel. As he had been in Holland after the battle of Bothwell, he was probably accessory to the scheme of invasion which the unfortunate Earl of Argyll was then meditating. He was apprehended upon his return to Scotland, tried, convicted of treason, and condemned to die; but his fate was postponed by a letter from the King, appointing him to be reprieved for a month, that he might, in the interim, be tortured for the discovery of his accomplices. The council had the unusual spirit to remonstrate against this illegal course of severity. On November 3rd, 1683, he received a further respite, in hopes he would make some discovery. When brought to the bar to be tortured, (for the King had reiterated his command,) he, through fear or distraction, roared like a bull, and laid so stoutly about him, that the hangman and his assistant could hardly master him. At last he fell into a swoon, and, on his recovery, charged General Dalziel and Drummond, (violent tories,) together with the Duke of Hamilton, with being the leaders of the fanatics. It was generally thought that he affected this extravagant behaviour to invalidate all that agony might extort from him concerning his real accomplices. He was sent first to Edinburgh Castle, and afterwards to a prison upon the Bass island, although the privy council more than once deliberated upon appointing his immediate death. On the 22nd August, 1684, Earlston was sent for from the Bass, and ordered for execution, 4th November, 1684. He endeavoured to prevent his doom by escape; but was discovered and taken after he had gained the roof of the prison. The council deliberated, whether, in consideration of this attempt, he was not liable to instant execution. Finally, however, they were satisfied to imprison him in Blackness Castle, where he remained till the Revolution, when he was set at liberty, and his doom of forfeiture reversed by Act of Parliament.”