The narratives of the Rev. Mr Frazer of Alness, as well as those of Quentin Dick, William M'Millan, and Mr Robert M'Lellan, Laird of Balmagechan—all sufferers by, and MS. historians of the same events—we have carefully perused; and it is from a collection of these hitherto unpublished MSS. that the following paper is composed.
Mr Frazer had gone to London about the end of the year 1676, and had continued there till 1685, when he was seized, along with the Laird of Balmagechan, in Galloway, whilst they were listening to the instructions of the Rev. Mr Alexander Shields, the celebrated author of the "Hynd let loose," and forwarded by sea, under fetter and hatchway, to Leith. After a variety of tossing and council-questioning, as was the order of the day at this time, they were marched from the Canongate Tolbooth, along with upwards of 200 prisoners, to Dunnottar Castle in Kincardineshire.
Of the sudden and unexpected summoning which they experienced, the reverend autobiographer speaks in these terms:—
"We were engaged, as was usual with us in our Babel captivity, in singing a psalm. It was our evening sacrifice, and whilst the sun was sinking ayont the Pentlands. The voice of a godly and much-tried woman, Euphan Thriepland, ascended clear and full of heavenly melody above the rest. The prison-door was suddenly thrown open, and we at first imagined—alas!—that our captivity had ended; but it was not so. The Lord saw meet to put us to still severer trials. We were marched, under the command of Colonel Douglas, to Leith. This poor woman, who was labouring under great bodily weakness, pled hard and strove sair for leave to stay behind. But she was mounted behind a corporal, and, amidst many an obscene jest and much blasphemous language, conveyed to the pier at Leith."
Next morning, we find the whole prisoners put up in the most indecent and uncomfortable manner in two rooms of the Tolbooth at Burntisland, and undergoing an examination before the Laird of Gosford, as to their opinions of allegiance and absolute supremacy. Forty acknowledged King James as head of our Presbyterian Church, and superior lord over all law and authority in the kingdom; and the forty-first was standing in the presence of the oath administrator, with his hand uplifted, and in the very act of following the example of his brethren, when his aunt, Euphan Thriepland, alias M'Birnie (for her husband's name was such), advancing with difficulty towards the table, thus proceeded, with violent gesticulation, and in a firm tone of voice, to address her nephew. Here we use the words of the Laird of Balmagechan, who has given the whole scene with singular force and fidelity:—
"Jamie M'Birnie, what's that ye're about? Down wi' yer hand, man!—down wi' yer hand, this moment!—or ye may weel expect it to rot aff by the shackle-bane, man! Ye're but a young man, Jamie, and muckle atweel ye seem to require counsel. Had Peter M'Birnie, yer worthy faither—now with his Maker—stood where I now (though with tottering joints and a feeble voice) stand, he would neither have held his peace nor withheld his admonition. He would rather hae seen that hand—now stretched oot to abjure Christ and his Covenanted Kirk—burning and frying in the hettest flame, than hae witnessed the waefu sicht I now see. It's weel wi' him!—oh, it's weel wi' him, that his eyes are shut on earth, and that, in heaven, there is nae annoyance; otherwise, sair, sair would his heart hae been, to see my sister's wean devoting himsel wi' his ain uplifted hand to Satan. O Jamie, what says the Bible? It says awfu things to you, Jamie—it says, 'If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, for it is better to go into heaven with one eye, than that the whole body'—Jamie, mark that! the whole body—'should be cast into hell fire.' And is not an eye dearer than a hand, and must not the dearest member be sacrificed, if it stand in the way of the soul's salvation? Ye may own King James, and muckle thanks ye'll get for't; and ye may abjure and renounce Christ, and ye'll sune see wha will gain or lose by that. And ye may adhere to the king's curates, or to the bishops' curates, and starve at the breast o' a yeld, a milkless mither; but tak tent that ye dinna feed and nourish in your bosom a fearful worm, that winna die nor lie still, but will gnaw and gnaw as lang as the fire burns and isna quenched."
Jamie M'Birnie's hand continued to fall gradually during this address, and, when his aunt had concluded, his arm hung pendulous and seemingly powerless by his side. At this instant, a young woman of uncommon personal attractions was seen hurrying from a boat which had just landed. She had scarcely set foot on shore, when a commotion was observed in the court, and a face full of anguish and despair was presented to the party assembled in the Tolbooth. The Laird of Gosford, after cursing the aunt for an old Covenanting hag, had just put the question of abjuration to Jamie for the last time. Jamie now remained inflexible, and was immediately ordered to be handcuffed, and marched with the rest to Dunnottar Castle. Hereupon, as the Laird of Balmagechan expresses it—The maiden, who was fair to look upon, pushed herself suddenly forward, and rushed into the arms of her lover—for such he behoved, from her words and her conduct, to be.
"O Jamie, Jamie, tak the oath—tak the oath—tak ony oath—tak onything; do a' that they bid you do; say a' that they bid ye say—rather than leave yer ain Jeanie Wilson to break her heart wi' downright greeting. O Jamie, we were to be married, ye ken, at Martinmas; and I have athing ready, and the bit house is taen, and ye can work outby, and I can spin within, and—and—but, O Jamie, speak, man, just speak, and say ye'll tak the oath. Haud up yer hand!" Hereupon she lifted his seemingly powerless right hand, till it came to a level with his head. "Look there, sir," addressing Gosford; "look there—swear him, man, swear him, man; he's willing, dinna ye see, to swear—what for dinna ye swear him?"
Being informed that the oath must be voluntary, and his hand not be propped, with great reluctance, and looking in Jamie's face with a look of inexpressible persuasion, she whispered something in his ear which was inaudible, and retired a few paces from her station. No sooner, however, had she done so, than the hand, as if by the law of gravitation, resumed its former position, and a loud scream indicated that the young heart of Jeanie had found a temporary stillness in insensibility. The poor creature was borne out of court, amidst some sympathy even from the hardened and merciless soldiery; and Jamie, now a stupid, passive clod, was handcuffed, and ordered to march.
Lieutenant Beaton of Kilrennie commanded the detachment to which was intrusted the execution of the higher orders. They were all compelled to walk, with the exception of Euphan Thriepland, who was mounted, as formerly, behind a corporal, together with a poor lame schoolmaster, whose feet were closely and most cruelly tied down to the sides of a wild and unbroken colt. Upon these two helpless and tormented beings, principally, did it please and amuse the commander and his men to exercise their wit and expend their jeers. At one time the schoolmaster was likened to a perched radish, and again he was "riding the stang" for his sins. Euphemia was designated "Dame Grunt," in humane allusion, no doubt, to the painful position which she occupied à la croupe, and which compelled her frequently to groan. Again she was accosted as the "mother of all saints," and the "true Blue Whigamore." One observed that the dominie would look wonderfully handsome in boots (referring, no doubt, to the instrument of torture); and another observed that the lady would wondrous well become a St Johnstone's cravat—namely, a halter. The foot-soldiers, who were armed with long pikes, made excellent application of their weapons; and ever and anon, as some weary wretch lagged behind, or some hungry or thirsty one seemed inclined to turn aside to procure food or drink, the "argumentum a posteriori" was applied vigorously and unsparingly. The people of Fife, who were universally favourably disposed toward the prisoners, flocked in upon their retired and out-of-the-way route with every kind of provision and refreshment; but, instead of being permitted to bestow them where they were needed, they were met with taunts, and in some cases with blows; and the food which was intended for the prisoners was uniformly devoured by their tormentors, or wasted and destroyed in the very presence, and under the very eyes, of those who were almost famishing for hunger. A strolling piper, who happened to be crossing their route, was sportively enlisted into their service, and compelled, like Barton at Bannockburn, to play, very much to his own annoyance, such tunes as "The Whigs o' Fife," well known to be offensive to the friends of the Covenant.