XVI.
THE SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT.—A.D. 1643.
The Solemn League and Covenant touches a tender chord in the heart of every true Covenanter. It is a solitaire of statesmanship; a precious jewel of international law, unique and alone; there is nothing like it in the world. The historical setting of this lustrous stone is intensely interesting. Out of what mine did the priceless diamond come? By whose skill was it so admirably cut and polished? By whose hand was it set in its own historic foil? Such questions are worthy of serious and earnest thought.
King Charles' war flurry against the Covenanters, in 1639, brought him no honor. Out-matched on the field, outdone in diplomacy, and utterly defeated in his purpose, he returned to London greatly humiliated. The journey was long and dreary, even though he rode in his stately carriage and behind swiftest horses, for he was chafing over his failure to reduce the Covenanters. In his palace also he found no comfort, his magnificent apartments brought him no restfulness. He brooded over his ill-fortune till his blood was tinctured with acid and his heart soured; a malignant spirit spread its dark wings over him. He had failed in his military operations; the Covenanters were stronger and more independent than hitherto; his Prelatic friends were aggrieved with his treaty of peace; his power to tyrannize over the public conscience was waning. Such thoughts racked his brain and wrecked his peace of mind. He grew sullen, miserable, desperate. It was this passionate and despotic temperament that carried him into the second war with these Covenanters whom he so thoroughly hated.
The Covenanters were yet truly loyal to their king. Their loyalty was high-principled and self-sacrificing, yet at the same time discriminating. They bound themselves by their Covenant to be true to their king and their country. The Covenant recognized the king and the people to be equally under the law of God, subjects of the moral government of Jesus Christ. While he occupied his rightful place and exercised legitimate power, they would stand by him till their blood and treasures were alike exhausted. Such was their oath of loyalty, and it was kept with sacred care. But they resisted his authority at the point where he attempted to crush conscience, rule the Church, and usurp the royal prerogatives of the Lord Jesus Christ, who is KING OF KINGS. There they drew the line, and drew it so clear, that all the world might see it, and the blindest king might pause, consider, and not pass beyond. There they uttered their solemn protest with the Bible in one hand and the sword in the other. Such encroachments on their rights and liberties, and upon the honor and supremacy of Jesus Christ, they met on the battlefield, when peaceful measures had failed. While these interests were at stake they counted not their lives dear.
| [!--IMG--] The Martyrs' Monument, Edinburgh. This monument honors the memory of the martyrs who were executed at the Grass Market. It stands in Greyfriars' churchyard at the head of a small plot of ground, where about 100 bodies were at sundry times heaped together. Here lies the dust of Argyle, Guthrie, Warriston, Cargill, Renwick, and others of equal fame and faithfulness in the Covenant. |
The king on this second occasion collected an army of 21,000 men—all he could then muster—and hastened to punish the Covenanters. He was not able at this time to rally the hosts of England; that kingdom was not in sympathy with his enterprise. His haughty will and arbitrary measures had alienated the strength of England from his support. The English Parliament was like a trembling volcano, ready to break out and involve his throne in ruins. A revolution from monarchy to democracy was sending its advance swell over the land like a tidal wave.
The Covenanters, ever loving peace and hating war, had exhausted all honorable measures to avoid a conflict with their king on the battlefield. Their efforts however having failed, again the call to arms resounded through their peaceful glens and over their granite hills. The shepherd again left his flock, the workman closed his shop, the plowman released his team, and the minister took leave of his people to follow the fiery war-cloud. Again the banner was unfurled for CHRIST'S CROWN AND COVENANT; the silken folds rose and fell on the breeze; the golden letters and sacred motto flashed upon the eyes of the men who were willing to follow where it led. Gen. Leslie was again in command. He boldly crossed the Tweed and hastened to give the king battle on English soil. The armies having come within range of each other, the usual lull before the battle ensued. The Covenanted columns, standing under their colors and gleaming with arms and armor in the bright August sun, struck terror once more to the king's heart. He dreaded to meet this sea of living, fiery valor, rolling its waves into his very camp. He saw, as on the first occasion, that a treaty was the better part of valor and offered peace. The terms being concluded, the Covenanters returned to their homes, not knowing how long the peace would last.
England, too, was at this time greatly agitated. She was making a desperate effort to throw off the galling despotism of King Charles. The spirit of progress, enlightenment, and liberty was deeply stirring the people; they were eagerly reaching after a higher and nobler life. The grand possibilities of improvement and happiness filled them with visions of better things, and they grew desperate in their purpose to obtain freedom. Continued subjection to the heartless autocrat became intolerable.