"That I have, often and many a time," replied Mrs. Anderson, "eh, but these were the noble men—it's hard to say who were the best, they were all so good. There's Mr. Peden, what a bright example he gave to his people! Oh, but they were privileged who could hear the gospel preached by such a man! And eh, sirs, but he was sair, sair persecuted. I mind o' my mother telling me, when a little bit lassie, she had been shown a house near here, where that worthy man had a narrow escape for his life. You see he was coming to preach at an appointed place on the moors, and was spending the evening before-hand wi' a farmer who was a great friend o' the persecuted clergy, and never was known to turn one frae his door, even although certain death was the consequence o' its being found out. Well, just as Mr. Peden was seated at his supper, in the best room, the master o' the farm, frae the kitchen window, saw the red-coats advancing in the direction of the house. 'Wife, wife,' cried he, 'Mr. Peden is lost! Here are the dragoons come to take him. What can we do to save him?' Ye see, Mr. Peden was held in great veneration by them a'. 'Oh,' replied his wife, 'whenever the dragoons are within hearing, just you call out, Jock, put on your smock frock, and go off instantly to B—— for coals, and maybe the soldiers winna stop him.' The man did as he was desired, at the same time throwing the smock into the room where Mr. Peden was sitting. The latter perceiving the great danger he was in, instantly put on the carter's frock, and pulling his cap down over his forehead, put on as lubberly an appearance as possible, in order to look like the character he was assuming; and in this way passed his enemies without in the least exciting their suspicions; and very leisurely yoking the horse to the cart, he set off on his expedition. Thus, while the dragoons were searching the house for Mr. Peden, he was, through the mercy of God, far beyond their reach.
After a few remarks about the wicked deeds that were done in those days, the conversation turned upon the murder of Archbishop Sharpe, which Mrs. Anderson allowed was a cruel doing on the part of the Covenanters, although the Archbishop himself had caused the destruction of many of their body. "Ay," she said, "talking about that, I mind well o' a minister coming in here one night, who had just come frae Fife, and he told us that, in the house where he had been staying, the conversation one evening had turned upon the Covenanters, and the murder o' the Archbishop; and as they were speaking about him, the mistress o' the house went till a drawer, and pulling out two letters frae the King to Archbishop Sharpe, threw them on the table wi' a great air of consequence—for ye must know that she prided herself on her descent frae the Archbishop. The minister read the letters carefully, and having observed the look of importance with which the woman had produced them, he said to her, 'My good woman, I do not see any use in your keeping letters that belonged to that evil man, who did our forefathers such bad service; with your leave I shall put them into the fire.' 'You shall do no such thing!' replied the woman; 'these letters hae been in my possession this mony a day, and it's not very likely I kept them so long to allow them to be burned in the end.' Now for my own part," said Mrs. Anderson, "I think she did perfectly right; for losh pity me! if people were to be condemned for the evil doings o' their ancestors, we might a' hide our heads thegither; and besides, I think it a nice thing to hae these auld relics in one's ain house: there, now, a gentleman was very anxious, a short time ago, for me to send the banner and sword into the Antiquarian Society in Edinburgh; but no, no, says I, I'll just e'en keep them, were it only to show that my forefathers were fighting for the good old cause; but here comes my husband, and he will be able to tell ye plenty about the Covenanters."
Scarcely had Mrs. Anderson finished speaking, when her husband entered. "Here, Willie," she said, addressing him, "I am so glad you have come, for this lady is very anxious to hear some of your stories about the Covenanters."
"Indeed, ma'm," replied Mr. Anderson, taking off his hat on observing me, "it's not much that I know about them, but the little I have came from my forefathers, and you're welcome to it, if you think it would interest you; in the meantime," he added, "I suppose you have seen the standard and sword?"
"Indeed I have; it was the knowledge that you had such things that brought me here to-day."
Mr. Anderson smiled as he observed, that "the standard itself was nothing to look at, being made of such humble materials, but that the silk ones borne by the wealthy farmers and lairds were splendid indeed. Now, for instance, there was Mr. G——, of Green Hill, the standard he had was of the finest yellow silk, with the motto, 'Christ's Crown and Covenant,' engraved in letters of gold; ay, but it was bonnie to see! And I mind well, when the great meetings in connection with the Reform Bill were held throughout the country, that there was one at B——, and the people wished to get all the banners that could be procured, as there was to be a grand procession. Well, as I knew of Mr. G—— having this one, away I went to Green Hill, to see if he would let me have it for the above purpose; and as I was not personally acquainted with him, I got a line from the minister of the parish, testifying that I was trustworthy. Armed with this, I made my request known to Mr. G——, who received me very kindly, saying, that the banner was sadly torn and destroyed, but, if I could manage to get it repaired, I was welcome to it. Accordingly, I brought away the standard, and my wife having got it patched up a little, I took it to B——; and, oh, had you but seen the people's faces, as I laid before them the venerable banner: there was not a dry eye in the whole assembly. Men, women, and children mourned and wept; while gazing on the standard stained with the blood of their forefathers, who nobly fought and died for the cause of the Covenant."
"And who, pray, bore the standard, now in your possession, at Bothwell Bridge?"
"A young man of the name of Telford, who lived up at the Muirhead yonder. My mother was one of that family, and they had many a thing that belonged to the Covenanters; amongst other articles, the musical instruments they made use of when going to battle. My mother kept them until they fell to pieces with age; and the last time I saw the drum, it was holding rowans that the children had gathered; while the bugles which sounded the retreat at Bothwell were devoted to purposes equally peaceful and innocent."
"Can you give me any account of the young man who carried the standard on that occasion?"
"Yes ma'm," replied Mr. Anderson, and after a moment's pause, as if to collect his thoughts, he furnished me with the particulars comprised in the following story:—