About this time, rumours of Argyle’s intended invasion having reached the council, they published what they called the king’s act of indemnity to all below the rank of heritors and burgesses; but all who were capable of paying a fine being excepted, it was considered as a just “demonstration of Our innate clemency, which also has shined in the whole line of our royal race;” and as it declared “Our resolution to imitate our said dearest royal brother,” the Presbyterians anticipated that they would reap little advantage from such a boon. Nor were they mistaken; or if they had been so, the council would soon have undeceived them; for on the 10th, they gifted to the Laird of Pitlochie, one hundred of the prisoners “who were willing to go to the plantations,” only excluding such as were able to be fined—“all heritors who had above £100, Scots, rents.”

Nor did the wanton massacre in the fields intermit. Subalterns intrusted with the power of life and death abused it, as might have been expected; and the most valuable of the Scottish peasantry were destroyed by a licentious soldiery, who delighted to indulge in riot with the worst; but now their outrages deplorably increased, especially those in the south and west, where a Cornet Douglas and a Lieutenant Murray eminently distinguished themselves in this cowardly warfare. Claverhouse went still farther, and endeavoured to ruin the peace of mind, as well as plunder the estates and torture the bodies, of the sufferers. On the 10th of March, he parcelled out Annandale and Nithsdale into a number of divisions, of about six or eight miles square. He then assembled the whole inhabitants, men and women, old and young, belonging to each of them in one place, and made them swear the oaths of allegiance and abjuration, and afterwards promise that they would renounce their hopes of heaven, if ever they repented of what they had done! If any one refused, he was carried to a little distance from the rest, a napkin tied over his face, and blank cartridge fired over his head. Having thus suffered the terror of death, he was once more offered his life upon taking the test and becoming bound to inform against all disloyal persons. Few were able to withstand so trying a compulsitor. But perhaps the most heartless trait in his conduct, was his treatment of the children. Those above six and under ten years of age were collected together, and a party of soldiers being drawn out before them, they were bid pray, for they were going to be shot; and when the terrified creatures answered—“Sir, we cannot pray,” they were told they would be let free if they would tell where they saw men with guns in their houses, and if they got any meat or drink there.

Among the villanous apostates who associated with the wanderers, on purpose to betray them, was Andrew Watson, who got acquainted with many of their hiding-places throughout Galloway and Nithsdale, and among others of a cave near Ingliston, which had been a secret and secure retreat to many for several years. He gave information of it. In consequence, Colonel James Douglas and Lieutenant Livingstone surprised five lurking within it; among whom was a brother of the proprietor of the estate, John Gibson. He was first taken out; and being permitted to pray, he went through his devotional exercises with a cheerfulness that astonished his murderers, and greatly encouraged his sister, who through the compassion of some of the soldiers, had got admission to him, telling her that was the joyfulest day he had ever had in the world; and his mother also being allowed to speak with him, he begged her not to give way to grief, but to bless the Lord upon his account, who had made him both willing and ready to suffer for his cause. The rest were then despatched, without being allowed formally to pray. They lie buried in Glencairn churchyard. Another wretch of the same description, an Alexander Ferguson of Kilkerran, informed against John Semple, one of the excellent of the earth, who led a quiet and peaceable life, nor had ever carried arms or had been connected with any disturbance, only he came not to church to hear the Episcopal minister, and did sometimes relieve the poor. A party at midnight, guided by the informer, came to his house, and after seeing them shoot the good man, while attempting to escape at a window, the miscreant went with the murderers to the barns of Bargeny, and caroused with them till next night.

Towards the end of this month, three women—Margaret Maclauchlin, a widow about sixty-three years of age; Margaret Wilson, aged eighteen; and Agnes Wilson, aged thirteen—were brought to trial before the commission court, composed of the Laird of Lag, Colonel David Graham, sheriff, Major Windham, Captain Strachan, and Provost Cultrain, indicted for rebellion, Bothwell Bridge, Airs-moss, and being present at twenty conventicles. The absurdity of the charges carried their own refutation. But this was not sufficient, there was no proof produced; but they refused to swear the abjuration-oath, and were therefore condemned to be drowned. On the last day of April, the council, when the subject was laid before them, suspended the execution of the sentence for an indefinite time, and recommended to the secretaries to procure a complete remission; but the voice of mercy, though uttered by the council on behalf of helpless females, could not be listened to. The only argument that had any effect was money; and the afflicted father was allowed to purchase, with nearly the whole of his worldly substance, the life of his youngest daughter. Windram guarded the others to the place of execution, where an immense number of spectators assembled to witness the unusual sight. The old woman’s stake was fixed much further in the sands than her companion’s, and thus was first despatched. When the water was overflowing her, one of the persecutors asked her what she thought of that sight? She answered, “What do I see? Christ and his members wrestling there. Think you we are the sufferers? No! it is Christ in us; for he sends none a warfare on their own charges.” She then sung the 25th Psalm from the 7th verse, and read the 8th chapter of the Romans, and then prayed. While engaged in prayer, the water covered her. She was then dragged out by Windram’s orders, and when sufficiently recovered to speak, was asked if she would pray for the king. She answered, she wished the salvation of all men, and the damnation of none. “Dear Margaret,” urged a bystander, deeply affected, “Dear Margaret, say—God save the king; say—God save the king!” She replied with great composure—“God save him if he will; it is his salvation I desire!” on which, it is said, Lag bellowed out—“Damned bitch! we do not want such prayers:—tender the oaths to her;” which she refused, and was immediately thrust under the water.

Sir James Johnstone of Wester-raw, another hypocritical turncoat who had sworn the covenants and was now a zealous apostle of Episcopacy, evinced his ardour in the cause, by ordering the corpse of one of the wanderers who had died in the house of Widow Hislop, to be dug out of his grave and exposed. The house they pillaged and pulled down, and turned the widow and her children to the fields. Her son had been previously murdered by Wester-raw, to whom Claverhouse had brought him; yet while procuring his death, the latter seemed to have some compunctious visitations, for he said to his associates, ere the deed was perpetrated, “The blood of this poor man be upon you, Wester-raw—I am free of it.”

The christian Carrier shot by Claverhouse anno 1685.
Vide page [529]
Edinr. Hugh Paton, Carver & Gilder to the Queen 1842.

May-day morning was dewed this year with the blood of John Brown, in Priestfield, a carrier to his employment, distinguished by the honourable title, or, as they called it, nicknamed, “The Christian Carrier.” Having performed Airs-moss between five and six o’clock—fearless of danger, for he was blameless in life—he had gone out to cast peats in the field. While thus engaged, he was suddenly surrounded by Claverhouse with three troops of horse, and brought back to his humble dwelling. After the usual questions, Claverhouse said to him—“Go to your prayers, for you shall immediately die.” He did so; but when praying, the impatient assassin thrice interrupted him, saying—“I gave you time to pray, and ye’re begun to preach.” John turning calmly round upon his knees, replied—“Sir, you know neither the nature of preaching nor praying, that calls this preaching,” and then continued without confusion. When he had ended, Claverhouse said, “Take good-night of your wife and children.” She was standing weeping, with an infant in her arms, and another child of his first wife beside her. He came near and said, “Now, Marian, the day is come that I told you would come when I first spoke to you of marrying me.”—“Indeed, John,” she replied, “I can willingly part with you.”—“Then,” answered he, “that’s all that I desire. I have no more to do but die. I have been in case to meet with death for many years.” He kissed his wife and bairns, and wished purchased and promised blessings to be multiplied upon them. When he had finished, Claverhouse ordered six of his men to fire, which they did; and the most part of the bullets striking, splintered his skull, and scattered his brains upon the ground.[[161]] “What thinkest thou now of thy husband, woman?” asked Claverhouse. “I ever thought much good of him,” she replied; “and as much now as ever.”—“It were but justice to lay thee beside him,” said the murderer.—“If ye were permitted,” answered the new made widow, “I doubt not but your cruelty would go that length:—but how will ye make answer for this morning’s work?”—“To man,” said he, “I can be answerable; and as for God I will take him in my own hand,” and mounting his horse, marched off with his troop. The poor woman, left with the corpse of her husband lying before her, set the bairns upon the ground, and gathered his brains, and tied up his head, and straighted his body, and covered him with her plaid, and sat down and wept; it being a very desert place, where never victual grew, and far from neighbours. Claverhouse afterwards repeatedly confessed, that he never could altogether forget Brown’s prayer.

[161]. Wodrow says the men refused, and Claverhouse pistolled the good man with his own hand.

Amid these bloody scenes, a parliament was convoked, April 28, to confirm the despotism by which they were enacted, for so subservient had those assemblies now become, that, like the parliaments of Paris, they met only to register the royal edicts. The Duke of Queensberry was the commissioner. In his first message to his first high court, James frankly told them that his main design was to give them an opportunity not only “of showing their duty to Us in the same loyal manner as they had done to Our late dearest brother, but likewise of being patterns to others in their exemplary compliance with Our desires as they had most eminently been in times past, to a degree never to be forgotten by Us; but also of protecting religion against fanatical contrivances, murderers, and assassins, and to take care that such conspirators might meet their just deservings.”