Now, he became a persecuted man, and was obliged to leave the town. His father being a black-smith, he had learned the same trade, and so he went some time to Glasgow, and followed his occupation. From Glasgow he returned home; and from thence went again to Borrowstouness, where he had great debate, as himself expresses it,—"about that woeful indulgence: I did not know the dreadful hazard of hearing them, until I saw they preached at the hazard of men's lives.—This made me examine the matter, until I found out that they were directly wrong and contrary to scripture, had changed their head, had quitted Jesus Christ as their head, and had taken their commission from men, owning that perjured adulterous wretch as head of the church, receiving then commission to preach in such and such places from him and those bloody thieves under him."
From Borrowstouness he returned back to Falkirk; and thence home to Stirling, where he remained for some time under a series of difficulties: for, after he got off when taken with others at the Shield-brae,—while he was making bold to visit Mr. Skeen, he was taken in the castle, and kept all night, and used very barbarously by the soldiers, and at eight o'clock next morning taken before the provost, who not being then at leisure, he was imprisoned till afternoon. But by the intercession of one Colin M'Kinzie (to whom his father was smith) he was got out, and without so much as paying the jailor's fee. "I had much of the Lord's kindness at that time, (says he) although I did not know then what it meant, and so I was thrust forth unto my wandering again."
About this time, he intended to go to Ireland; but being disappointed, he returned back to Stirling, where he was tost to and fro for some time, and yet he remarks, he had some sweet times in this condition; particularly one night, when he was down in the Carfe with one Barton Hendry;[195] after which heavy trials ensued unto him from professors; because he testified against every kind of their compliance with the current of the times. Upon this account, the society meeting he was in and he could not agree. This made him leave them, and go to one in the country; which, he says, "were more sound in judgment, and of an undaunted courage and zeal for God and his cause; for the life of religion was in that society."
At this time, he fell into such a degree of temptation by the devices of the enemy of man's salvation, that he was made to supplicate the Lord several times that he might not be permitted to a affright him in some visible shape, which he then apprehended he was attempting to do. But from these dreadful oppressions he was at last, through the goodness of God, happily delivered.[196] Although, as yet, he knew but little of experimental religion. And, says he, "The world thought I had religion: but to know the hidden things of godliness was yet a mystery to me. I did not know any thing as yet of the new birth, or what it was spiritually to take the kingdom of heaven by violence, &c." Which serves to shew, that one may do and suffer many things for Christ and religion, and yet at the same time be a stranger to the life and power thereof.
But anon he falls into another difficulty; for a proclamation being issued, that all betwixt thirteen and sixty was to pay Poll-money; word was sent his father, that if he would pay it, he should have his liberty; which was no small temptation. But this he absolutely refused, and also told his father plainly (when urged by him to do it) that, if one plack (or four pennies) would do it, he would not give it. His father said, He would give it for him; to whom he answered, If he did, he needed never expect it or any consideration for it from him. And for the result of the matter, hear his own words: "And O! but the Lord was kind to me then; and his love was better than life. I was tossed in my wanderings and banishment with many ups and downs, till I came to Edinburgh, where I heard of a communion to be on the borders of England; and then I went to it. O! let me bless the Lord that ever trysted me with such a lot as that was: for the 20, 21 and 22 of April [1677] were the three most wonderful days with the Lord's presence that ever I saw on earth. O! but his power was wonderfully seen, and great to all the assembly, especially to me. Of the three wonderful days of the Lord's presence at East-Nisbet in the Merse. That was the greatest communion, I suppose, these twenty years. I got there what I will never forget while I live. Glory to his sweet name that ever there was such a day in Scotland. His work was wonderful to me both in spirituals and temporals. O! that I could get him praised and magnified for it. He was seen that day sitting at the head of his table, and his spikenard sending forth a pleasant smell. Both good and bad were made to cry out, and some to say, with the disciples, It is good for us to be here. They would have been content to have staid there. And I thought it was a begun heaven to be in that place."
After this, he returned home to Stirling, and got liberty to follow his employment for some time.—But, lo! another difficulty occurred; for while the Highland host was commanded west, [in the beginning of 1678] all Stirling being commanded to be in arms, which all excepting a very few, obeyed; he refused, and went out of town with these few, and kept a meeting. When he returned, his father told him, he was past for the first time, but it behoved him to mount guard to-morrow.—He refused: his father was angry, and urged him with the practices of others. He told his father, he would hang his faith upon no man's belt, &c. On the morrow, when the drums beat to mount the guard, being the day of his social meeting, he went out of the town under a heavy load of reproach, and even from professors, who made no bones to say, that it was not principle of conscience he hesitated upon, but that he might have liberty to strole through the country: because he attended these meetings; which was no easy matter to bear. Orders were given to apprehend him; but at that time he escaped their hand, and wandered from one place to another, until the beginning of August 1678, that he came to Carrick communion at Maybole: and what his exercise was there, himself thus expresses: "I was wonderfully trysted there; but not so as at the other. I went to the first table, and then went and heard worthy Messrs. Kid and Cameron preach at a little distance from the meeting, who never left the fields till they sealed and crowned it with their blood. I cannot say but the Lord was kind to me, on the day after there, and on the fast day in the middle of the week after that, near the borders of Kilmarnock parish, where a division arose about the indulgence, which to this day is never yet done away. After my return home, I was made to enter into covenant with him upon his own terms against the indulgence and all other compliances: and, because through the Lord's strength I resolved to keep my bargain, and not to join with them, it was said, I had got new light; and I was much reproached, yet I got much of the Lord's kindness when attending the preached gospel in the field, to which I would sometimes go twenty miles."
And having thus wandered to and fro for some time, he went to Edinburgh to see the prisoners, and then returned home to Stirling in the end of the week. Late on Saturday night, he heard of a field preaching, and seeing the soldiers and troopers marching out of the town to attack the people at that meeting, he made himself ready, and, with a few others, went toward the meeting: and, being armed, they arrived near the place; but the soldiers coming forward, the people still, as they approached, seeing the enemy, turned off. So he and a few armed men and the minister, seeing this, took a hill above Fintry beside the craigs of Ball-glass. So the enemy came forward. This little handful drew up in the best posture the time and circumstances would allow; and sung a psalm, at which the soldiers were so affrighted, that they told afterward, that the very matches had almost fallen out of their hands. At last a trooper coming up, commanded them to dismiss: but they refused. This was repeated several times, till the captain of the foot came forward, and gave them the same charge; which they also refused. Upon this, he commanded a party of his men to advance and fire upon them: which they did once or twice: which was by this little company returned with much courage and agility, until the whole party and the commanding officer (consisting of 48 men and 16 horsemen) fired upon this little handful, which he thinks amounted to not above 18 that had arms, with a few women. After several fires were returned on both sides, one of the sufferers stepped forward, and shot one side of the captain's periwig off, at which the foot fled; but the horsemen, taking the advantage of the rising ground, surrounded this small party. They then fired on a young man, but missed him. However, they took him and some others prisoners. The rest fled off. Robert Garnock was hindermost, being the last on the place of action, and says, he intended not to have been taken, but rather killed. At last one of the enemy came after him, on which he resolved either to kill or be killed before he surrendered,—catching a pistol from one for that purpose. But another coming in for assistance, the trooper fled off, and so they escaped unto the other side of a precipice, where they staid until the enemy were gone, who marched directly with their prisoners to Stirling[197].
After the fray was over, Robert staid till evening, and spoke with some friends and the minister, who dissuaded him all they could from going into Stirling. But being now approaching toward the eve of his pilgrimage state, with Paul, in another case, when going up to Jerusalem, he could not be prevailed upon; and so went to town: and entering the town about One in the morning, he got into a house at the foot of the castle-hill, and there got his arms left with much difficulty: but, as he was near the head of the castle-hill, he was by two soldiers (who were lying in wait for those who had been at that meeting) apprehended and brought to the guard; and then brought before lord Linlithgow's son: who asked him, if he was at that preaching? he told him, he was at no preaching. Linlithgow's son said, he was a liar. Robert said, he was no liar; and seeing ye will not believe me, I will tell no more: prove the rest. Linlithgow said, he would make him do it.—But he answered, he should not. Then he asked his name, trade, and his father's name, and where they dwelt? all which he answered. Then he bade keep him fast. At night he was much abused by the soldiers; some of them who had been wounded in the skirmish, threatening him with torture, gagging in the mouth, &c. all which he bore with much patience. In the morning a serjeant came to examine him; but he refused him as a judge to answer to. At last the commanding officer came and examined him, if he was at that skirmish. He answered, That for being there he was taken; and whether I was there or not, I am not bound to give you an account. So he went out, and in a little returned with the provost, who thought to surplant him by asking, who of Stirling folk was there? he answered, That they were both his neighbours and his; and though he had been there, he might account him very impudent to tell: for though he thought it his duty to ask, yet it was not his to tell or answer: and he thought he should rather commend him for so doing. After several other things anent that affair, he was commanded to close prison; and none, not so much as his father, allowed to speak to him; but he did not want company at that time; for, says he, "O but I had a sweet time of it: the Lord's countenance was better unto me than all the company in the world."
The forementioned skirmish had fallen out May 8th, 1679, and upon the 19th of the same month, he was put into the common prison amongst malefactors; where he got some more liberty, having some others of the sufferers with him. However, they were very much disturbed by a notorious murderer, who, being drunk one time, thought to have killed him with a large plank or form. But happily the stroke did not hurt him, though he struck with all his force twice, whereby another was almost killed. This made him and other five to lie sometimes upon the stairs; for they could have no other place; though they desired the thieves hole, they could not obtain it. And thus they passed the time with much pain and trouble, until June 16th, that the Fife men were broke at Bewly[198], and numbers taken which were brought in prisoners on the 11th; whereby they were very much thronged. Here he continued till the break at Bothwel on the 22d, after which there was no small confusion by tendering and pressing of a bond of conformity against offensive arms, wherein he got his share during that time.
Upon the 13th of July, he was brought forth and in company with about 100 more prisoners under a strong guard of red coats taken from Stirling to Edinburgh, and put into Gray-friar's church-yard, amongst the Bothwel prisoners: there he was more vexed both by the enemy and his fellow-sufferers than ever. A specimen of which I shall give in his own words: "Some of my neighbours desired the bond, so they put it to me; but I refused. However, the most part of them took it. Nay, there were some of them supplicated for any bond. This made some of us conclude it was our duty to testify against it; which piece of employment was put upon me, against which some of the prisoners obtested.—So I was rendered odious; but many a-day the Lord was kind to me in that yard, and kept me from many a fear and snare; his love was sweet unto me. The men complained of us to the commanders, who sent for me and examined me on the bond and other things: they said, I should be gagged, and every day I was vexed with them; until almost the whole prisoners petitioned for it—And there was as good as seventy ministers sent unto the ward to take it, and they said, it was not a head to suffer upon: when they had done, they sent in two gentlewomen with the commission; and they set upon me: I told them, if every one of them had as much of it as I had, they would not be so busy to press it: for before this, the bloody crew came to the yard, and called on me, and asked, If I would take the bond. I said, No. They said, I would get no other sentence.—So I was sore put to it: I would often have been at the doing of something; but the Lord would not suffer me. So, in his strength, I fought on against my own heart and them all, and overcame. But O! the cross was sweet unto me and easy. There needs none fear to venture on suffering in his way and strength. O happy day, that ever I was trysted with such a thing. My bargaining with lovely Jesus was sweet unto me. It is true, affliction, for the present, seems not joyous but grievous; but afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness to those who are exercised thereby. I never knew the treachery of ministers, and their dreadful hypocrisy and double dealing in the matters of God before that time, and I could never love them after that; for they made many a one to rack their conscience in taking that bond. I was brought out of the yard, Oct. 25th, with a guard of soldiers; when coming out, one Mr. White asked, if I would take the bond? I, smiling, said, No. He, in way of jeer, said, I had a face to glorify God in the Salt market. So I bade farewel to all my neighbours who were sorry; and White bade me take goodnight with them, for I should never see them more. But I said, Lads, take good heart; for we may yet meet again for all this.—So I was brought before their council-court. They asked, if I would take the bond? I said, No.—Some of them said, May be he does not know it; but Halton said, he knows it well enough. So one of them read it. I asked, if they would have me subscribe a lie to take away my life; for I never was in rebellion, nor intended to be so. They said, they would make another bond for me. I answered they needed not trouble themselves; for I was not designed to subscribe any bond at this time.