The speeches of the Commissioner and Chancellor echoed the letter, and inveighed against the persecuted Presbyterians, as wretches of such monstrous principles and practices, as past ages never heard, nor those to come will hardly believe, whose extirpation his majesty asked, as no more rebels against their king, than enemies of mankind. The address followed in a strain of adulation and abject baseness, clearly evincing the absence of every right-hearted man from the meeting. “We can assure your majesty,” said they, “that the subjects of this your majesty’s ancient kingdom, are so desirous to exceed all their predecessors in extraordinary marks of affection and obedience, that, God be praised! the only way to be popular with us is to be eminently loyal;” “and therefore your majesty may expect that we will think your commands sacred as your person, and that your inclination will prevent our debates.”
Their first act was “an act ratifying and confirming all the acts and statutes formerly passed for the security, liberty, and freedom of the true church of God and the Protestant religion.” Their next, an offer of their lives and fortunes to the king, accompanied by a declaration of their abhorrence and detestation, not only of the authors and actors of all preceding rebellions against the sovereign, but likewise all principles and positions which are contrary or derogatory to the king’s sacred, supreme, sovereign, absolute power and authority, which none, whether persons or collective bodies, can participate of any manner of way, or upon any pretext, but in dependance on him, and by commission from him. All persons summoned as witnesses against frequenters of conventicles, who refused to answer, were to be reputed guilty of the same crimes as the persons accused—to administer or receive the covenants, or even to write in their defence, was declared treason. Field preachers were already subjected to confiscation or death. Hearing was now made liable to the same punishment, which was also extended to preachers in house conventicles, expounding the Scriptures, or even worshipping God in a private house. If there were more than five persons, in addition to the family, present, it was to be considered as an house-conventicle; but if any were listening outside, it was to be reputed a field-conventicle, for which the whole congregation, with the preacher, were to suffer death. At the same time, the test was extended, with exemptions only favourable to the papists. Then, as a final winding up of this scene of iniquity, followed the forfeiture of Sir John Cochrane, Sir Patrick Home, Lord Melville, Pringle of Torwoodlee, Stuart of Cultness, Fletcher of Saltoun, and several other gentlemen, implicated in the late conspiracy with Cessnock and his son, whose estates, together with those of Argyle, Douchal, and Jarvieswood, were annexed for ever to the crown; while to preserve their own estates from a similar fate, the act of entail was passed, professing to secure the estates of the nobles, but in fact enabling them to evade the just claims of their creditors.
Meanwhile the Scottish exiles, reduced to despair, resolved to attempt the liberation of their native land, with which they had never ceased to hold a secret correspondence; and after many meetings in Holland, an expedition set sail on the 2d of May, of which Argyle was elected General, and the expense supplied by Mrs Smith, a rich sugar baker’s widow, at Amsterdam; but accounts of his preparations had been sent to the government, and measures were taken to frustrate his object before his arrival, which were increased on the council’s receiving notice from the Bishop of Orkney, that the Earl had touched there on his passage. The strengths in Argyleshire were ordered to be dismantled, and the sons of the chiefs to be sent as hostages to Edinburgh; and all the non-conformist prisoners, about two hundred and fifty, were, on May 18th, hurried off under night from the jails of Edinburgh and Canongate, and sent across the Firth in open boats to Burntisland, and confined for two days and nights in two small rooms, where they had no space almost to lie down, and no place to retire to. Nor had they any provisions, and only a few were allowed to purchase a little bread and water.
When it was imagined hunger and fatigue would have worn out their powers of endurance, liberty was offered them on condition of swearing the oaths of allegiance and supremacy; but many who could have taken the first refused the last as blasphemous. To acknowledge a papist as the head of Christ’s church, was what they durst not do. About forty complied and were released, the rest were driven like cattle to Dunotter Castle—an old, ruinous building, in the county of Kincardine, situated on an almost insulated perpendicular rock, 150 feet above the level of the sea, where they were received by George Keith of Whiteridge, sheriff-depute of Mearns, and thrust into a dark vault, with only one small window towards the sea, and full of mire ancle deep. They had no provision but what they were forced to purchase, at a dear rate and of the worst quality, from the governor’s brother. Even their water was brought in small quantities, though their keepers would sometimes pour whole barrels into the cavern to increase their discomfort. Means of cleanliness they had none, and the smell of the place became so noxious, for it was a warm summer, that several of them died; and it was considered little less than miraculous that any survived.
Within a few days, the governor removed about forty of the men to another low small cell, scarcely less disagreeable, as the only light or air they had was through a small crevice in the wall, near which they used to lie down by turns, that they might breathe a little fresh air. Shortly after, the governor’s lady having visited these miserable abodes, prevailed upon her husband to separate the prisoners; and the females were removed from the large vault into two more comfortable smaller apartments. The men, however, continued to suffer the utmost misery in the large vault, and a contagious disorder having broken out among them, many died. The survivors, reduced to desperation, endeavoured to escape, and having got out one night by the window, were creeping along the hazardous precipice, when an alarm was given by some women—most probably the soldiers’ wives—who were washing near the rock. Immediately the guards were called, the gates shut, and the hue and cry raised, and fifteen were intercepted; yet twenty-five had got off before the alarm was given. Those who were retaken, were most inhumanly tortured. They were laid upon their backs upon a form, their hands bound down to the foot of the form, and a burning match put between every finger—“six soldiers attending by turns to blow the matches,” and keep them in flame—and this was continued for three hours without intermission by the governor’s orders! Several died under this torture, and those who survived were disabled for life. About July, in consequence of representations to the council, the prisoners were brought south, and the Earls Marishal, Errol, Kintore, Panmure, and the Lord President of the Court of Session, empowered to call them before them, and banish such as would not take the oaths of allegiance and abjuration, to his majesty’s plantations—the men having their ears cut off, the women their cheeks branded—with certification that such as should return to the kingdom should incur the pain of death.
Unfortunately for the success of Argyle’s expedition, while the Scottish government were fully apprised of its approach, adverse winds and untoward circumstances retarded its progress; so that when the Earl arrived, he found he had been anticipated by the measures of the council; and where he expected willing vassals, he met only heartless or deceitful adherents; but the worst symptom was the insubordination of his officers, especially Sir Patrick Home and Sir John Cochrane, who disputed when they ought to have obeyed, and argued when they should have acted. In such circumstances, after landing, he lost instead of gathering strength as he advanced, while the ships and military stores he left behind in the Castle of Ellengreg, fell, together with it, into the hands of some English frigates, which arrived on the coast. He published two proclamations, but they produced no effect, and unhappily were even counteracted from quarters whence, if he had not received decided support, it was not too much to have expected a friendly neutrality.
The wanderers, although they were favourable to Argyle, unfortunately could not embark with him, upon account of the too promiscuous admittance of persons to trust in that party, and because they could not espouse his declaration as the state of their quarrel. But they published another declaration at Sanquhar, May 28, 1685, against the usurpation of a bloody papist advancing himself to the throne, as the height of confederacy with an idolater, forbidden by the law of God and contrary to the law of the land.
Thwarted at every step, and prevented from following his own brave resolution, and giving the enemy battle, Argyle was at last, either by treachery or mistake, landed in a morass, where his baggage and horse were swamped, and universal confusion ensuing, his little band, which had with difficulty been collected and kept together, despersed during the night. Argyle himself, forced to withdraw, was retiring in the disguise of a peasant, when he was attacked in crossing the Cart at Inchannon (June 17th) by two of the militia, with whom he grappled, and would have overcome, had not five more arrived and wounded and secured him. When falling, he had exclaimed—“Alas! unfortunate Argyle,” which first discovered him to his captors, who appeared deeply concerned at his seizure, but durst not let him go. He was immediately carried to Edinburgh, where the marked ignominy with which he was treated, bore strong testimony to the high estimation in which the illustrious prisoner was held. By an especial order of the council, dated June 20th, he was conducted through the Water-gate, and carried up the main streets to the Castle, with his hands bound and his head bare, preceded by the hangman, and surrounded by Captain Graham’s guards; and there he was safely lodged in irons. In the privy council, it was debated whether he should be tried for his present rebellion or executed upon his former sentence. The most iniquitous proposition of the two prevailed, in which the king of course concurred, only he suggested the propriety of the Earl’s being tortured before he was executed, in order to try if any information could be elicited respecting those who had assisted or who were acquainted with the expedition. His openness upon his examination prevented his persecutors incurring the infamy which the royal mandate implied, and he was ordered to prepare for execution next day after the receipt of the royal letter.
The interval he spent with a cheerful tranquillity, which soothed his afflicted relatives and amazed his political antagonists. Being accustomed to sleep a little after dinner, on his last solemn day he retired to his closet, and laid himself down on bed, and for about a quarter of an hour slept as sweetly as ever he did. At this moment an officer of state came to inquire for him. Being informed that he was asleep and desired not to be disturbed, the officer, who doubted the story, insisted upon being admitted to his lordship. He was admitted accordingly, but instantly rushed from the apartment to a friend’s house on the Castle Hill, and threw himself on a bed in great agony of mind. When asked by the lady of the house if he was unwell or would take a glass of sack—“No! no!” replied he; “I have been at Argyle, and saw him sleeping as pleasantly as ever a man did, within an hour of eternity; but as for me——.”
The Earl left the Castle, accompanied by a few friends; and while waiting in the laigh council-house, wrote a farewell letter to his Countess. “Dear Heart,—As God is of himself unchangeable, so he hath been always good and gracious to me, and no place alters it; only I acknowledge I am sometimes less capable of a due sense of it. But now, above all my life, I thank God I am sensible of his presence with me, with great assurance of his favour through Jesus Christ, and I doubt not will continue till I be in glory. Forgive me all my faults; and now comfort thyself in Him in whom only true comfort is to be found. The Lord be with thee, bless thee, and comfort thee. My dearest—adieu.” He also wrote the following to his daughter-in-law, Lady Sophia Lindsay:—“My dear Lady Sophia,—What shall I say in this great day of the Lord, wherein, in the midst of a cloud, I find a fair sunshine? I can wish no more for you, but that the Lord may comfort you and shine upon you, as he doth upon me, and give you the same sense of his love in staying in the world, as I have in going out of it. Adieu. Argyle.—P.S. My blessing to dear Earl Balcarras. The Lord touch his heart and incline him to his fear.”