A convention of estates, held at Edinburgh in the month of January in order to further these objects, voted a cess of sixty-four thousand pounds a month, and, besides, offered to maintain all the forces the king should think proper to raise.[[60]] Lauderdale instantly perceived that this would give his enemies an overwhelming power in Scotland, by throwing into their hands the disposal of the forfeitures and the army commissions, and he obtained from the king a letter which, although it authorized very arbitrary proceedings, yet effectually counteracted the scheme of his opponents. It empowered them to tender the oath of allegiance and declaration, and to incarcerate in case of refusal: it authorized disarming the gentlemen in the disaffected shires—seizing all serviceable horses in possession of suspected persons—ordered the militia to be modelled—arms and ammunition to be provided—the legal parish ministers to be protected from violence—and all engaged in the late rebellion, to be criminally pursued without further delay. Proclamations were in consequence issued for again disarming the west and seizing the horses; and no person in future, who did not regularly attend his parish church, was to be allowed to keep a horse above one hundred merks value; but as nothing had been said by his majesty about forfeitures, the declaration was little heard of, and the leading men being changed shortly after, the afflicted country obtained a brief glimpse of repose.
[60]. A convention of estates differed from a parliament, in being convened for one specific purpose, commonly like those for raising money.
Lest, however, it might be supposed that any relaxation was meant to be shown in supporting prelacy, a letter was transmitted from court, early in May, expressing the royal determination not only to encourage and protect the bishops in the exercise of their callings, and all the orthodox clergy under them, but also to discountenance all, of what quality soever, who should show any disrespect or disaffection to that order or government; and earnestly recommending to those in power, to give the utmost countenance to the orthodox clergy, and to punish severely any affronts put upon them, “to the end,” it is added, “that they may be the more endeared to their people, when they see how careful we, and all in authority under us, are of their protection in the due exercise of their calling.” The council in consequence issued a proclamation, rendering heritors and parishioners liable for all the damages that might be done to their ministers, which, in the sequel, was most rigorously enforced, although it had certainly little tendency or effect in producing any sentiments of endearment in the breasts of the people towards pastors who required such eminent exertions of royal and magisterial care.
Not long after, Sir Robert Murray, distinguished for his love of science and his moderation of temper, was sent down to Scotland to procure, if possible, an accurate account of the state of the country. He was at this time high in the confidence of Lauderdale, whose interest he assiduously promoted, and whose party he essentially strengthened by the mighty accession of character he brought them. The bishops and their party were extremely anxious to have, above all things, the army continued, and used every method to induce Sir Robert Murray to coincide with them in opinion. Burnet, archbishop of Glasgow, protested that, if the army were disbanded, the gospel would depart out of his diocese; and the Duke of Hamilton said he did not think his life would be secure even in following his sport in the west; when Tweeddale, with many professions of care for his Grace’s life, proposed a squadron of the life-guard might be sent to quarter on his premises—a mode of protection with which the Duke did not appear very highly enraptured. But their guardian, Hyde, was in disgrace—an unfavourable peace had terminated an unsuccessful Dutch war—and a show of temporary moderation, at least, was required by the circumstances of the nation. Peremptory orders were therefore sent to Scotland to disband the whole army, except two troops of horse and one (Linlithgow’s) regiment of foot guards, which was accordingly done to the great joy of the country, but much to the distress of many idlers who had lately bought their commissions for the purposes of plunder, and considered a captaincy equal to an estate, although numbers, especially of the higher ranks, had their losses more than compensated by their shares of the forfeited estates.
Lauderdale was too good a politician to allow the present humiliation of his opponents to pass unimproved. The indolence and dissipation of Rothes had laid him open to the charges of inattention and neglect of duty during the Dutch visit. He was therefore, as an honourable dismissal, made Lord Chancellor preparatory to losing the Commissionership. The Earl of Tweeddale’s eldest son, Lord Yester, having been married to Lauderdale’s only daughter and presumptive heiress, his father was named one of the commissioners of the treasury along with Kincardine and Sir Robert Murray, who had also been appointed Lord Justice-Clerk; and his party in the privy council had been still further augmented by the admission of the Earl of Airly, Lord Cochrane, and others. The first trial of strength between the factions, was upon the important question, how the peace of the country was to be secured when the army was disbanded? As the same vile and mischievous system of forcing a hated hierarchy upon the people was determined to be persisted in, the prelates and military were for pressing the declaration according to the king’s letter; for although they had now no immediate prospect of touching the money, yet they always had a kind of natural propensity to urge the harshest measures, and those which would promote, rather than appease, the troubles of the land. The Lauderdale party proposed a general pardon and a bond of peace, so moderate in its terms, as that it would be either cheerfully taken, or render those who refused it inexcusable. The contest was long and hotly maintained; and when the council divided, their clerk, Sir Peter Wedderburn, affirmed that the declaration was carried; this, Sir Robert Murray denied, and the vote was again put, and again the clerk affirmed a majority was for the declaration; Sir Robert still contended that this was not the case, and the Chancellor warmly asking, if he doubted the clerk’s fidelity? Sir Robert replied he would trust the evidences of his own senses before any clerk in the world, and insisted that the names should be distinctly called, and the votes accurately marked; when it plainly appeared that a majority was for the bond, which, but for his firmness, by an impudent shameless falsehood would have inevitably been lost.
Pursuant to these resolutions, a pardon was proclaimed; but the exceptions were so numerous that it was of no avail to any person who possessed either influence or property, and it was remarked that already more than half the number of those who had been at Pentland, were either executed or forfeited; and those who were pardoned, were only the persons whom from their obscurity it would have been impossible to discover, or from their poverty, fruitless to forfeit. The bond was short, and ran thus:—“I, A. B., do bind and oblige me to keep the public peace, and not to rise in arms without the king’s authority, and that if I fail I shall pay a year’s rent: likewise, that my tenants and men-servants shall keep the public peace; and in case they fail, I oblige myself to pay for every tenant his year’s rent, and for every servant his year’s fee. And for more security, I am content thir presents be registrate in the books of council.” Excepting, perhaps, the hardship of obliging a landlord to bind himself for his tenant and servant, there does not appear, at first sight, any thing objectionable in this obligation. But the government had entirely lost the confidence of the upright Presbyterians by their uniform endeavours to ensnare their consciences with oaths and obligations, conceived in general terms, to which a double meaning was attached; and which, when any dispute arose, they insisted should always be understood according to the sense the administrators of the oath imposed upon it. Now this bond was constructed in the usual manner, and the expressions—“keep the public peace, and not rising in arms”—were the ambiguous phrases; and numbers refused to sign, unless allowed to explain that by these expressions they were not to be understood as binding themselves to support the prelatical religion, to attend their churches, and desert the preaching of the gospel by their own ministers, or acknowledge the doctrine of passive obedience. Many pamphlets were printed, and much discussion took place upon the subject; but the bond being soon laid aside, the controversy became unimportant, except in so far as succeeding events plainly showed that the objections to the bond were not unmeaning scruples, and that those who refused to sign, acted from a complete knowledge of the persons with whom they were dealing, who would allow of no interpretation inconsistent with entire, implicit, unconditional submission. The proclamation for disarming the west was also in part recalled, and orders issued for restraining the irregularities of such soldiers as were kept in pay—a number of gentlemen who had been imprisoned in 1665 were liberated—and the year closed with the illusive prospect of a deceitful calm.[[61]]
[61]. In December, “Naphtali, or the Wrestlings of the Church of Scotland,” written by Sir James Stuart of Goodtrees, and Mr James Stirling, minister of Paisley, was ordered to be burned by the hands of the hangman, and all who had copies of it after that date to be severely fined—a very foolish but not uncommon mode of publicly confessing that a book is unanswerable. Honeyman, bishop of Orkney, attempted to answer it, which produced an able reply by Sir James—“Jus populi vindicatum.”
[1668.] Great expectations were entertained that some legal protection might be again enjoyed by the harassed Presbyterians, as during last year a commission had arrived from the king to bring Sir James Turner to trial for his tyranny and oppression in the south. But it soon appeared that whatever might have caused the act of justice, it was no sympathy for the sufferings of the “Fanatics.” The extortions, harassings, imprisonments, and other charges against Sir James, were easily established; but it did not appear that he had either acted without or beyond his instructions, or appropriated much of the spoil for himself, and he was only dismissed the service, while those he had robbed received no compensation. Sir William Bannantyne’s trial followed. The accusations against him were more atrocious, torturing and rape being offered to be proved in addition to plunder and rapine. But, perhaps, what was his most indefensible crime, he could not account for the monies he had received. He was therefore banished and fined in two hundred pounds sterling—a gentle sentence for such conduct.[[62]] Little real relief was however afforded to Presbyterians, whose principles would not bend to the times, or to those who, at the risk of reputation, property, liberty, or life itself, refused to abstain from preaching the gospel to their fellow-sinners, or those who would not consent to forsake the worship of God, or leave his ordinances dispensed by his ministers—to attend on a profanation of all sacred service by hirelings who were—(scarcely even the disguised)—enemies of the cross of Christ. In proportion as lenity was exercised to others, so much the more was hatred evinced towards ministers and those who frequented conventicles.
[62]. He went afterwards to the low country, and was killed by a cannon-ball at the siege of Grave, which drove his heart out of his body—a mode of death he had been accustomed to imprecate upon himself.
Hitherto there had been but few field-meetings, yet preaching and exhortation in private houses, barns, and other convenient places, had been very common and well attended; and, from the concurring testimony of all who were accustomed to frequent them, who have left any record, the Spirit of God seems in an eminent manner to have blessed these calumniated, despised, and persecuted assemblies.[[63]] In a letter from the king, January 16, which settles the meaning of “the public peace,” these meetings, which were peculiarly obnoxious to the bishops and curates, are thus pointed out to the notice of the council:—“We most especially recommend to you to use all possible means and endeavours for preserving the public peace under our authority, and with special care to countenance and maintain Episcopal government, which in all the kingdom we will most inviolably protect and defend. You must by all means restrain the gatherings of the people to conventicles, which are indeed rendezvouses of rebellion, and execute the laws severely against the ringleaders of such faction and schism.” The council, with prompt obedience, appointed any of their number to grant warrants for seizing and haling to prison all “outted” ministers or others who should keep unlawful convocations; and the Earl of Linlithgow, commander of the few forces, was directed to distribute them over the country in such manner as might be calculated most easily to dissipate these illicit concerns. A company of foot was, in consequence, ordered to lie at Dumfries; another, with fifteen horse, at Strathaven, in Clydesdale; forty troopers at Kilsyth; two companies and fifteen horse at Glasgow; one company at Dalmellington; and a last at Cumnock, in Ayrshire.