The Church of Scotland was rent in twain, and there were two factions in almost every parish. The induction of a minister was seldom accomplished without opposition; and on many occasions disgraceful scenes took place in the churches, riots, stone-throwing, and even bloodshed. The differences between the parties extended from the original cause of quarrel to questions of rites and ceremonies, always a fruitful source of bad feeling. The country was flooded with controversial pamphlets, in which the disputants attacked each other in the most acrimonious terms. One of the Protesters, indeed, a young divine named Binning, published a book on Christian Love, in the hope, apparently, of preparing the way for a reconciliation, but his advances were rejected with scorn.
Some members of the Council of State proposed that means should be taken to re-unite these factions; but Vane advised a very different course. Let them fight it out, he said, in the inferior courts of their Church. By this means their attention will be diverted from secular matters, with which they are too fond of interfering, and confined to their own private squabbles. At the same time, if we forbid the General Assembly to meet, they will be powerless for either good or evil. This policy was carried into effect. The Assembly met at Edinburgh, and the members were about to proceed to business, when an officer entered, and asked by what authority they had met. Was it by the authority of the Parliament of England, or of the commander of the English forces, or of the English judges in Scotland? The ministers answered that the Assembly was an ecclesiastical court, deriving its authority from God and established by the law of the land. The officer said that he had orders to dissolve the meeting, and ordered those present to follow him, or he would drag them by force out of the room.
Uttering protests against this violence, the members rose and followed him. A guard of soldiers surrounded them, and led them along the streets, “all the people gazing and mourning, as at the saddest spectacle they had ever seen.” Presently a halt was called. The names of the ministers were taken down; and they were told that all future meetings were forbidden. On the following morning, by sound of trumpet, they were commanded to leave the town, on pain of instant imprisonment if they disobeyed.[82]
In this summary fashion the supreme court of the Church of Scotland was dissolved; and while the Union lasted the English army was supreme in Church affairs. The clergy were forbidden to pray for the king, and ordered to pray for the Protector. This order was at once obeyed by the Protesters; but the Resolutioners did not submit until they were informed that their stipends would be withdrawn, when they came to the conclusion that as the king could not protect them nor pay them they need no longer pray for him. Excommunication lost its terrors when the secular arm could no longer be invoked to give civil effect to the sentence of a Church court. The stool of repentance, which stood in every church, and on which sinners had to sit and listen to a public rebuke, was derided by the rough troopers, who either broke it to pieces, or sat on it themselves, to show their contempt for a kind of discipline which was akin to penance in the Church of Rome. The English soldiers did not admire either the Church or the religious character of the Scots. “A Kirk whose religion is formality, and whose government is tyranny, a generation of very hypocrites and vipers whom no oaths or covenants can bind, no courtesies or civilities oblige,” was their verdict.[83] Magnificent and fruitful of results as the Covenanting movement was, there can be no doubt that side by side with the genuine religious devotion of some there was to be found the deep hypocrisy of others. Cromwell saw this at once, and complained that where he had expected to find “a conscientious people,” he had found one “given to the most impudent lying and frequent swearing, as is incredible to be believed.”[84]
The persecuting principles of the Scottish clergy, too, alienated the Independent ministers who accompanied the army. Even so good a man as Samuel Rutherford argued against toleration with almost as much bigotry as Edwards had displayed in the Gangræna; and Baillie lamented that “the hand of power is not heavy on any for matters of religion.”[85] Principles such as these were, of course, hateful to the Independents, with whom liberty of conscience was an article of faith; and the fact that such principles were held by the Scottish clergy was one of the chief reasons why, during the Commonwealth, the Scottish Church was powerless.
Among the duties intrusted to the Council of State for Scotland were the encouragement of learning and the reform of the universities. Commissioners visited the universities, and changes were made. Resolutioners were turned out, and Protesters put in their places. Leighton, afterwards Bishop of Dunblane, became Principal of Edinburgh University. At Glasgow, Patrick Gillespie was appointed against the remonstrances of Baillie and his party; but even Baillie afterwards admitted that the appointment was a wise one. “The matters of our college,” he writes, “this year were peaceable; our gallant building going on vigorously; above twenty-six thousand pounds are already spent upon it; Mr. Patrick Gillespie, with a very great care, industrie, and dexterity, managing it as good as alone.” A grant of two hundred pounds a year was made to the Universities both of Edinburgh and of Glasgow; and before his death the Protector had taken the first steps towards founding a College of Physicians for Scotland.
In 1659 it was resolved to put the Union, the terms of which rested only on the ordinance promulgated by Oliver Cromwell five years before, on a more constitutional footing; and for that purpose two Bills “for perfecting the Union between England and Scotland” were brought into Parliament.[86] But neither of these Bills became an Act of Parliament; and at the Restoration, the Union came to an end.
As to the general effect of this Union on the state of Scotland we have conflicting accounts; but the weight of evidence goes to show that it was a time, not only of quiet, which has never been denied, but also of prosperity. Baillie tells a dismal tale. The peers were in exile or reduced to poverty; the people were burdened by heavy taxation, and suffering from want of money and want of trade. But Baillie was a Resolutioner; and the Protesters were favoured by the Government. Therefore, for Baillie, the times were out of joint, and he exclaims, “What shall we do for a testimony against the English?” Yet he is forced to admit that food was cheap and plentiful; and he gives an account of the state of Glasgow, where he lived, from which it appears that the town was highly prosperous. The magistrates were rapidly paying off the public debt, and spending money on public works.[87]
To the historian Kirkton, who was on the other side, everything seemed bright. It was a period of “deep tranquillity.” Every parish had a minister; every village had a school; almost every family had a Bible. The voice of singing and of prayer was heard in every house. From the taverns alone came the sound of lamentation; for the happiness and sobriety of the people were such that the trade in strong drink was ruined.[88]
Burnet agrees with Kirkton. “We always reckon,” he says, “those eight years of usurpation a time of great peace and prosperity.” Defoe took special pains to make himself acquainted with the affairs of Scotland, and the information which he received was to the same effect. “Scotland flourished, justice had its uninterrupted course, trade increased, money plentifully flowed in.”[89] Cromwell himself, in 1658, gave a favourable account of the state of things, on which Carlyle’s comment is, “Scotland is prospering; has fair play and ready-money;—prospering though sulky.”[90]