Chapter 11

53.“My guards, whereof David Scott, a weaver, was captain, carried me to Bathket, and took up for my quarters the best alehouse.”Turner’s Mem.

Hearing that Dalziel was at Strathaven, they decamped earlynext morning—Sabbath—and marched by Lesmahago to Lanark, where they arrived in the evening, having been joined by Robert and John Gordon, the sons of Alexander Gordon of Knockbreck, with a few others from Galloway. Mr Robertson refused to accompany them farther. On their march, they completed the arranging of their troops, but found themselves wretchedly deficient in officers, there not being above four or five who had ever been in an army before, neither were they fully supplied with ammunition or arms; at Lanark, they caused a general search, but the country had been too well scoured before, and they found few or none. Notice, however, was given that the covenants would be renewed on the morrow.

When they assembled at the rendezvous for this purpose, they were told the enemy was within two miles, and it was proposed to delay; but as the public avowal of their cause and principles, besides being a solemn religious act of imperative obligation, was the best and only testimony they could exhibit in their circumstances, they determined that nothing but absolute necessity should prevent it. They therefore sent forward an advance of twelve horse, placed guards at the ford, and then deliberately went about the work of the day. The horse were drawn up at the head of the town, where Mr Gabriel Semple and Mr John Crookshanks presided. The foot were ranged in the street, near the tolbooth stairs, upon which Mr John Guthrie stood and preached. Very few except the insurgents attended, so great was the universal terror and depression of the times; but the whole proceedings are said to have been deeply impressive, particularly the address of Mr Semple, from Prov. xxiv. 11, 12. “If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; if thou sayest, Behold, we knew it not; doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth he not know it? and shall not he render unto every man according to his works?” After sermon, the covenants were read, article by article, and the hearers, with uplifted hands, and apparently with much serious emotion, engaged and vowed to perform. Now in a situation of such peril, and pledged to their country and to their God, could they beother than deeply affected? It was no common ground these witnesses occupied.

About the same time, they emitted the following hurried but well-framed “declaration of those in arms for the covenant 1666,” the effect of which was wonderfully, though sadly, impressed upon the religious part of the community, by the remembrance that these men had been allowed to stand alone, and to fall together in the righteous cause; and by the evils which overtook the adherents to the covenants and afflicted the nation for twenty-two succeeding years of persecution.

“The nature of religion doth sufficiently teach, and all men almost acknowledge, the lawfulness of sinless self-defence; yet we thought it duty at this time to give an account unto the world of the occasion and design of our being together in arms, since the rise and scope of actions, if faulty, may render a thing right upon the matter, sinful. It is known to all that the king’s majesty, at his coronation, did engage to rule the nation according to the revealed word of God in Scripture—to prosecute the ends of the National and Solemn League and Covenants, and fully to establish Presbyterian government, with the Directory for Worship—and to approve all acts of parliament establishing the same; and thereupon the nobility and others of his subjects did swear allegiance: and so religion was committed unto him as a matter of trust, secured by most solemn indenture betwixt him and his people.

“Notwithstanding all this, it is soon ordered that the covenant be burned—the tie of it is declared void and null, and men forced to subscribe a declaration contrary to it—Episcopal government, in its height of tyranny, is established—and men obliged by law not to plead, witness, or petition against these things. Grievous fines, sudden imprisonments, vast quarterings of soldiers, and a cruel inquisition by the High Commission Court, were the reward of all such who could not comply with the government by lordly hierarchy, and abjure the covenants, and prove more monstrous to the wasting their conscience, than nature would have suffered heathens to be. These things, in part, have been all Scotland over, but chiefly in the poor country of Galloway at this day; and hadnot God prevented, it should have, in the same measures, undoubtedly befallen the rest of the nation ere long. The just sense whereof made us choose rather to betake ourselves to the fields for self-defence than to stay at home burdened daily with the calamities of others, and tortured with the fears of our own approaching misery. And considering our engagement to assist and defend all those who entered into this league and covenant with us; and to the end we may be more vigorous in the prosecution of this matter, and all men may know the true state of our cause, we have entered into the Solemn League and Covenant; and though it be hardly thought of, renewed the same, to the end we may be free of the apostacy of the times, and saved from the cruel usages persons resolved to adhere to this have met with. Hoping that this will wipe off the reproach that is upon our nation, because of the avowed perjury it lies under. And being fully persuaded that this league, however misrepresented, contains nothing in it sinful before God, derogatory to the king’s just authority, the privileges of the parliament, or the liberty of the people; but, on the contrary, is the surest bond whereby all these are secured, since a threefold cord is not easily broken, as we shall make appear in our next and larger declaration, which shall contain more fully the proofs of the lawfulness of entering into covenant, and necessity of our taking arms at this time for the defence of it, with a full and true account of our grief and sorrow for our swerving from it, and suffering ourselves to be divided to the reproach of our common cause, and saddening the hearts of the godly—a thing we sorrowfully remember and firmly resolve against in all time coming.”

At this period the number of the insurgents had reached its maximum—more having joined on that day than for three before—supposed to amount to nearly three thousand; and the opinion of many among them was, if they did intend to fight, it would be better to do it in that quarter, where, if defeated, they were among friends, and could more easily find the means of escape, than in the east, where every thing would be against them; but their want of discipline, and want of arms, did not warrant a trial of strength with the king’s forces, who were equal if not superiorin numbers and in a complete state of equipment. They were likewise the more encouraged to try the Lothians, as, at this critical moment, they received from Edinburgh pressing letters of invitation to come thither. They chose what eventually proved the most unfortunate for themselves, and that same evening took the road for Bathgate. Before they left Lanark, Lawrie of Blackwood paid them a visit. He said he had come by desire of the Duke of Hamilton to learn what were their intentions and to endeavour to prevail upon them to lay down their arms and save the effusion of blood; but he produced no written commission, and only spoke in general terms to some of the ministers, which induced in the mind of the Colonel a suspicion that he came merely to spy out their nakedness; and he afterwards blamed his own simplicity in allowing a person of such dubious character to pass between them and the enemy without restraint. Hardly were they in motion when Dalziel made his appearance; but he contented himself with sending a body of horse after them, who, when they found the countrymen prepared for an assault, returned to the General, with whom they remained for the night in the quarters the others had left. The night was deplorable; it rained incessantly and blew a hurricane, and the road across the moors was deep, “plashy,” and broken. When they arrived at their destination, two hours after night-fall, they could get no accommodation, not even a covert from the tempest; and their leaders retired to a wretched hovel to consult about their further operations. After prayer, they discussed the subject. To return was now impracticable, for the enemy was at their heels; but they still expected some assistance from Edinburgh, and thitherwards they resolved to continue their route, convinced that they would at least hear from their friends before they were entirely within the jaws of Leviathan.

But never were poor men more completely deceived, disappointed, and entangled. On every side was danger. The whole spasmodic energy of government had been forced into action by the fearful throes of the primate; almost all Scotland south of the Tay, had been set in motion, while the capital was fortified more in proportion to his ecclesiastical terrors than to the bandthat was approaching. Sir Andrew Ramsay, the provost, had barricaded the gates and planted them with cannon—Lord Kingston was stationed on Burntsfield Links with an advanced guard of horse and foot—the advocates were accoutred and the citizens in arms—and all the array of the Lothians, Merse, and Teviotdale, were ordered to hold themselves in readiness. Yet such was their want of intelligence, that the covenanters, upon an alarm being given, broke up about twelve o’clock in this dark and foul night—“One of the darkest,” says Wallace in his Narrative, “I am persuaded that ever any in that company saw. Except we had been tied together, it was impossible to keep together; and every little burn was a river.” During this disastrous march, which many were unable to accomplish—as “they stuck in the clay and fainted by the road”—the army diminished wofully; and the remainder who arrived in the morning at the New Bridge, within eight miles of Edinburgh, “looked rather like dying men than fighting soldiers—weary, worn out, half-drowned, half-starved creatures.” Yet, beyond expectation, in an hour or two, they mustered nearly a thousand men, only officers were sorely lacking; and now when the enemy was within five miles in their rear, they first learned that all Edinburgh and Leith were in arms against them.

Dreadfully perplexed—without directors, without intelligence, without food—they knew not what to do, but they resolved to march to Colinton. On their way thither, Blackwood again came to them with a verbal requisition from the Duke for them to lay down their arms, and he would endeavour to procure an indemnity; but desperate as their situation was, had they had no other aim than their own personal safety, they could not have listened to so vague an arrangement with such men as they had to deal with; and when Blackwood urged their compliance, they dismissed him with a caution to beware how he behaved himself, and see well that he walked straightly and uprightly between the parties. Having had so little rest, and scarcely tasted any thing since they left Lanark, a few horsemen were sent out to try and procure some provisions and forage in the neighbouring farms, as they intended, if possible, to take some repose and refreshment intheir quarters that night, which, continuing tempestuous, seemed to promise them, for some hours at least, security from any hostile incursion. Accordingly, having provided in the best manner they could for the foot in the village, and sent the horse to the neighbouring farms, they set their guards, and the officers were retiring to rest, when Blackwood came to them again, accompanied by Richards, the laird of Barskimming, and repeated the proposal he had formerly made; telling them at the same time, he had the General’s parole for a cessation of arms till to-morrow morning, having given in return the same for them. Wallace, who was little pleased with the officious presumption of “the tutor,” told him, “he did not understand this paroling of his, but he believed neither would break the truce in such a night.” Upon this they parted, and Barskimming, without taking leave, set off early next morning, but Blackwood waited till daybreak, and requested to know what answer was to be returned. The leaders upon calmly considering their situation—their men now hardly nine hundred, the greater part without arms—their spirits broken by the apparent want of heart in the country—their bodies worn out by fatigue, hunger, want of sleep, and exposure to the weather—the utter hopelessness of any reinforcements—and their great inferiority in numbers to Dalziel’s troops—were strongly induced to attempt coming to some terms not incompatible with the object for which they had ventured to the field, they therefore proposed sending one of their number along with Blackwood to represent to the General their grievances, and the grounds of their appearance in arms; but the only person they had to whom they could intrust such a message being objected to as an outlaw, Wallace sent a letter by Blackwood to Dalziel, stating—“That, on account of the intolerable insolences of the prelates and their insupportable oppressions, and being deprived of every usual method of remonstrating or petitioning, they were necessitated to assemble together, in order that, jointly, they might the more securely petition his majesty and council for redress, they therefore requested of his excellency a pass for a person whom they might send with their petition, and begged an answer might be returned by Blackwood who had promised to fetch it.”

Trusting, however, very little to this negotiation, they commenced a retreat, and turning the west end of the Pentland Hills, took the Biggar road. As their men were straggling, they drew up near the House of Muir, on a spot now well known—Rullion Green. The ground rises from the south towards the north, where the Hill terminates abruptly. Here the poor fatigued remnant were posted in three bodies. Upon the south, a small body of horse, under Barscob and the Galloway gentlemen—in the centre, the foot commanded by Wallace himself—and upon the north, the greater part of the horse along with Major Learmont. Hardly had this small company got arranged, when an alarm was given that the enemy was approaching; and upon moving towards the ridge of the hill, they observed their horse under Major-General Drummond upon an opposite hill, within a quarter of a mile—for their foot had not arrived. The little band of covenanters being so posted that the enemy could not attack them from the north, about fifty picked troopers marched along the ridge to the westward, evidently with a design to approach from that quarter. Observing this, a party of about the same strength, under Captain Arnott, was dispatched by Wallace to meet them, which they did in the glen, at no great distance. Having fired their pistols, they instantly closed, and a sharp contest ensued in sight of both armies, which lasted for a considerable time, when the troopers gave way and fled in confusion to their own body. In this rencounter, Mr John Crookshanks and Andrew M’Cormack fell;[54]and several were killed and wounded on both sides.

54.“Two main instruments of the attempt, two Ireland ministers.”Wallace’s Narrative, p. 416. It appears doubtful if ministers in any case may lawfully take arms—Peter was reproved for drawing his sword in defence of his master. Matt. xxvi. 52.

The nature of the ground preventing pursuit by cavalry, a party of the covenanters’ foot was ordered to support their horse, but the enemy moved to another and safer eminence farther to the east, where they waited till their own foot came forward; and then descending from the hill, drew up upon Rullion Green in front of their opponents, in order to provoke them to leave their ground and engage. But seeing that they were not inclined toleave their vantage ground, they pushed forward a squadron of their horse, flanked by foot, upon the south, which the others observing, consulted whether they should give them a second meeting, when considering that, although they might be able to defer an engagement for that night, they must inevitably be forced to fight on the morrow, and under much greater disadvantage—as the enemy would be certainly increased in numbers—they, after prayer, resolved that they would not decline the combat—“they would quit themselves of their duty though it should serve for no more than to give a testimony by leaving their corpses on the field.” A party of Learmont’s horse, also supported by foot, was then sent forth, whose onset the regulars were unable to sustain, and staggered and fled. Each now endeavoured to support their own men by successive detachments.

While the combatants were at all equal, the covenanters successfully maintained the honour of the day, till Dalziel, about night-fall, brought up the whole of his force, and, with one simultaneous and vigorous charge, broke their array. Overwhelmed by numbers, they found it impossible to rally, and every one shifted for himself as he best could. The slaughter was not great, for the countrymen made to the hills, and their flight was covered by the darkness; nor were the horsemen very eager in the pursuit, for, being chiefly gentlemen, they sympathized in the sufferings, and many approved of the cause of the vanquished. About a hundred were killed and taken prisoners at the time, and about fifty were brought in afterwards. Of Dalziel’s troops, the casualties never appear to have been fairly reported. They acknowledged some half-dozen, but the allowed valour of the covenanters, and the obstinacy and nature of the skirmishing, forbid our accepting this as any thing like an accurate return. Some of the neighbouring rustics, more cruel even than the military, probably expecting money, are said to have murdered several of the fugitives, but the crime was held in deserved execration; and the popular tradition, that these “accursed spots” were the scenes of foul nocturnal visions, sufficiently mark the general opinion of the country. Sir James Turner, who had accompanied the insurgents in all their movements, when the battle wasabout to commence, bargained with his guards that, if they would save his life from the vengeance of their friends, if defeated, he would secure their safety from the conquerors, which was agreed to, and was one of the few agreements which appears to have been faithfully kept. Those who were slain on the field were stripped where they fell, and lay naked and unburied till next day, when some godly women from Edinburgh brought winding-sheets and interred them; but such is the brutality of avarice, that the bodies were afterwards taken out of their graves by some miscreants for the sake of the linen!

The victors entered the capital shouting with their prisoners.[55]“A sight,” says a contemporary, “the saddest that ever Edinburgh had seen, which drew tears in abundance from the eyes of all that feared God, considering what vast difference there was between the persons and the cause on the one side and the other: and surely a most astonishing dispensation it was to see a company of holy men—for such were the greatest part, yea, but few otherwise—and that in a good cause, given up into the hands of a most desperate crew of scoffing, profane atheists. But God had called them together, it seems, to have a testimony at their hands, and that he missed not, for he helped them to glorify him in their sufferings, which made their cause more lovely throughout all parts of the land, even in the eyes of enemies, than victory would have done!” They were imprisoned, the common men in the kirk, called Haddo’s-Hole[56]—those of superior rank were sent to the common jail. In the height of their exultation, theprivy council sent off their dispatches announcing the victory, and breathing a spirit of the most implacable hatred against the Presbyterians. “Although,” said they, “this rabble be totally dissipated for the time, yet we conceive ourselves obliged, in the discharge of our duty, to represent unto your majesty that those principles which are pretended as the ground of this rebellion, are so rooted in many several places through the kingdom, and there be such just ground of apprehension of dangers from persons disaffected to your majesty’s government, as it is now established by law, as will require more vigorous application for such an extirpation of it, as may secure the peace of the kingdom and due obedience to the laws.” Orders were immediately given by the council to sequestrate the property of all who had been at Pentland, and to apprehend all who were suspected of having been with them, or of having aided or abetted them before or since.

55.“Mr Arthur Murray, an honest “outted” minister (from Orkney,) dwelling in a suburb of Edinburgh, by which Dalziel’s men entered the city after the victory. He, hearing they were passing by, opened his window to view them, where he saw them display their banners tainted in the blood of these innocent people, and heard them shout victory, upon which he took his bed and died within a few days.”Kirkton, p. 247.

56.It received this name from Gordon of Haddo having been confined there previous to his execution in the civil war in the reign of Charles I. Burnet tells us that Wiseheart, Bishop of Edinburgh, and indeed the whole town, were so liberal to the prisoners, that they were in danger from repletion. Wallace, with an appearance of more accuracy, says, “the charity of the godly people of the town appeared in furnishing them with all necessaries, both for maintenance and the healing of their wounds.” P. 428.

Priestly resentment is proverbially implacable; but if those priests happen to be infidels, or apostates, such as the generality of the Episcopalian-restoration-church of Scotland were, their revenge assumes a degree of rancour bordering on the diabolical, of which the punishments that followed the suppression of this feeble and ill-supported insurrection, afford afflicting examples. There cannot be a stronger proof that the rising was unpremeditated and accidental, than that, notwithstanding the enormous oppression the country had endured, and the universal discontent both in the south and west, so few attempted to join the insurgents. In Renfrew, only one small company assembled; but before they were ready, Dalziel had interposed between them and the covenanters, and they retired without doing more than showing goodwill and incurring punishment. William Muir of Caldwell was their leader; and among them were, Ker of Kersland, Caldwell of Caldwell, Cunningham of Bedland, Porterfield of Quarrelton, with Mr Gabriel Maxwell, minister of Dundonald, George Ramsay, minister of Kilmaurs—and John Carstairs, minister of Glasgow, unwillingly forced out by the entreaties of his friends, with several others, who all afterwards suffered confiscation, fining, or banishment. What was, perhaps, not the least galling part of the trial, they were denounced byJohn Maxwell of Blackston, one of themselves, who either through treachery or terror was induced to become an informer and witness against them.

It was natural, and followed as a matter of course, that, of men taken with arms in their hands, some examples should be made by the government against whom they were alleged to have rebelled. But what gave to the executions in this case their peculiar features of atrocity, was, their victims had surrendered upon a promise of quarter, and the more appalling fact of a letter from the king to the council, forbidding any more to be put to death, having been kept up by one or both of the archbishops,[57]till they were satiated with the blood of some obnoxious victims. When the question, whether the prisoners should be sent to trial, was first agitated at the privy council-board, Sharpe violently urged the prosecution. Sir John Gilmour, esteemed one of the best lawyers of his day, pusillanimously shrunk from giving any decided opinion, and the rest seemed inclined to be silent, when, unhappily, Lord Lee started the vile jesuitical distinction, not, however, unmatched in later times, that men may be granted quarter on the field as soldiers, yet only be spared to die on a scaffold as citizens—a distinction which General Dalziel, notwithstanding his little respect for the lives of covenanters, could not by any means be brought to comprehend.

57.Kirkton asserts it of Sharpe, p. 255. Burnet says that his namesake, Burnet of Glasgow, kept up the letter, pretending that there was no council-day between and the day of execution, vol. i. p. 348.

Eleven of the prisoners were accordingly picked out for trial, and, on the 4th of December, Captain Andrew Arnott; Major John M’Culloch; John Gordon of Knockbreck, and his brother Robert; Gavin Hamilton, Mauldslie, Carluke; Christ. Strang; John Parker, Kilbride; John Ross, Mauchline; James Hamilton, Killiemuir; and John Shiels, Titwood, appeared before the Court of Justiciary. Thomas Patterson, merchant in Glasgow, died in prison of his wounds. The objections to the relevancy of the indictment were argued with great ability, and, in particular, that one arising from the quarter granted by the General,which, if we may judge from the pleadings, he appears to have himself considered a point of honour. It was alleged, that being in the form of an army, and as such assaulted by his majesty’s forces, and as such having accepted quarter, and in consequence delivered up their arms, and that that quarter beingpublica fides, and offered and granted, should be inviolably observed. To this it was answered, that their presumption in appearing in arms against their sovereign lord was an aggravation of their rebellion; that unless his majesty had given a special commission for the purpose, the General had no right to grant a pardon to rebels, whatever he might have done in fair and honourable war. In return, it was replied, that without debating the justness of the war, the pannels being then in arms, might have defended their own lives and reached the lives of the greatest that opposed them. In laying aside these arms, they in effect ransomed their lives; and soldiers who may defend their own lives, are not obliged, nor is it in use, nor would the urgency of the case permit it to them, to seek the granter’s commission, common soldiers being accustomed to grant quarter, which their superiors never annulled; and this had been the practice, not only between the contending parties in France, but likewise practised by his majesty’s own forces in the hills, and with the rebellious English, which, unless it were adhered to, a method of martial massacre would be introduced, and rebels of necessity would become desperate and indomitable traitors. The court repelled the objections; and as none of the pannels denied the facts of which they were accused, they were unanimously found guilty, and sentenced to suffer the doom of traitors on the 7th of December.

Previous to their execution, they drew up a united testimony, which stands upon record an evidence of the purity of their motives and the justice of their cause—a cause which, however defamed by the advocates of passive obedience, or oppugned by more modern objections, was in their hands the sacred cause of civil and religious liberty, only these patriots were driven by enormous oppression prematurely to assert it. “We are condemned,” say they, “by men, and esteemed as rebels against the king, whose authority we acknowledge; but this is the testimony of our conscience,that we suffer not as evil-doers, but for righteousness, for the word of God and testimony of Jesus Christ—particularly for renewing the covenant,[58]and, in conformity with its obligations, for defending ourselves by arms against the usurpation and insupportable tyranny of the prelates, and against the most unchristian and inhuman oppression and persecution that ever was enjoined and practised by rulers upon free, innocent, and peaceable subjects! The laws establishing prelacy, and the acts, orders, and proclamations made for compliance therewith, being executed against us by military force and violence—and we with others, for our simple forbearance, being fined, confined, imprisoned, exiled, scourged, stigmatized, beaten, bound as beasts, and driven unto the mountains for our lives, and thereby hundreds of families being beggared, several parishes, and some whole country sides, exceedingly impoverished; and all this either arbitrarily, and without any law or respect had to guilt or innocency, or unjustly contrary to all conscience, justice, and reason, though under the pretence of iniquitous law, and without any regard to the penalty specified in the law; while all remonstrating against grievances, were they ever so just and many, and petitions for redress being restrained by laws—there was no other remedy left us but that last of necessary, self-preservation and defence. And this being one of the greatest principles of nature, warranted by the law of God, scriptural instances, and the consent and practice of all reformed churches and Christian states abroad, and of our own famous predecessors at home—it cannot, in reason or justice, be reputed a crime, or condemned as rebellion, by any human authority.” Then, after lamenting the perjury, backsliding, and breach ofcovenant throughout the land, the overturning of the work of reformation, the obtrusion of mercenary hirelings into the ministry, the universal flood of profanity and apostacy from participating in the guilt of which they ardently prayed to be cleansed, they exhort their countrymen and fellow-christians to remember the example of their noble and renowned ancestors, and warn them not to be offended with the cross of Christ on account of their sufferings, and conclude in a strain of exhilarating, animated, and believing anticipation, almost prophetical—“Though this be the day of Jacob’s trouble, yet are we assured that when the Lord hath accomplished the trial of his own, and filled up the cup of his adversaries, He will awake for judgment, plead his own cause, avenge the quarrel of his covenant, make inquiry for blood, vindicate his people, break the arm of the wicked, and establish the just, for to him belongeth judgment and vengeance; and though our eyes shall not see it, yet we believe that the Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing under his wings—that he will revive his work, repair his breaches, build the old wastes, and raise up the desolations.”

58.On the binding obligation of the Covenants.—How far the vows of a parent are obligatory on a child, is a question both delicate and difficult to determine. That, in certain circumstances, they are imperative, is perfectly clear; and national compacts, vows, or covenants—by whatever name they may be called—entered into by the heads of the people, are, in Scripture, considered as binding upon the succeeding generations, even when the parties have rashly entered into them, under circumstances of ignorance, delusion, or deceit, provided they contain nothing in opposition to the moral law of God, which is unchangeable in its enactments, though they should contravene extraordinary enunciations of the divine will, as in the case of the covenant between Joshua and the Gibeonites.

Ten were executed together; and, on the scaffold, their dying speeches, containing similar sentiments, were delivered with a high and elevated courage, that excited no common emotion among the spectators, while their kindlier feelings were melted into tenderness when the two brothers—the Gordons—were thrown off locked in each other’s arms, and whose last agonies were expressed by the convulsive clasp of a fraternal embrace. The heads of the sufferers were sent to various parts of the country, but the right hands which they had uplifted at the oath of the covenant, were sent in derision to be affixed to the top of Lanark jail.

Enraged to find that no appearance of any premeditated scheme of rebellion could be traced in the confessions of the late sufferers, who all agreed in assigning as the cause of the rising, the intolerable oppression they endured in soul, body, and estate, they determined to elicit by torture, if possible, some plausible confession that might afford a colouring of justification for the cruelties they were perpetrating and determined to perpetrate. Accordingly, Nielson of Corsack, whose enormous oppression we havealready seen, and Hugh M’Kail, a preacher, were brought before the council on the 4th of December; and the boots, an instrument which had not been used in Scotland for a century, was again put in requisition. This “infernal machine” was a kind of box, strongly hooped with iron, into which the leg of the prisoner was put, where it was compressed by wedges, driven frequently till the bone was crushed, and even the marrow sometimes extruded. Nielson was fearfully tormented; but his cries, which were most piercing, had no effect upon Rothes, before whom he was examined, who frequently called for “the other touch.” Hugh M’Kail, whose fate produced a stronger and more indelible impression than any that occurred during this period, was a young man of great promise. He had been tutor in the family of Sir James Stewart of Coltness some time before the Restoration, when Sir James was provost of Edinburgh. He was licensed to preach at the early age of twenty-one, and soon became so deservedly popular, that he eminently attracted the hatred of the prelates, particularly Sharpe, and was forced to keep under hiding. During this time, he went to Holland, and for four years attended one of the Dutch Universities, then distinguished for theological literature. In 1664—5, he returned secretly to his father’s house, where he remained, till, hearing of the appearance made by the people of God for the cause of the covenants, he joined them in the west; but his tender constitution was unable to bear the fatigue of their severe toil and privations, and he was, finally, obliged to leave them near Cramond Water. On his return home to Libberton, he was seized at Braid’s Hills and brought to Edinburgh. His limb, also, was shattered by repeated strokes of the mallet; but from neither of the two could torture extort any other fact than their confessions contained.

Nielson, notwithstanding the treatment he had undergone, was indicted to stand trial on the 10th of December. When he was placed at the bar along with other four—Mr Alexander Robertson, preacher, who had been basely betrayed by the Laird of Morton, his friend, to whose protection he had committed himself; George Crawford, in Cumnock; John Gordon, Irongray; and John Lindsay, Edinburgh—they were found guilty upon theirown confessions, and were executed on the 14th, except Lindsay, who was pardoned. They all left testimonies in similar terms to those who went before, lamenting the defection of the times, but rejoicing in the hope that God would return and bless his church and people. They all pointedly refused the appellation of rebels, avouched their loyalty to the king and the constitution of their country before it was illegally overturned, and warned their friends not to be discouraged because the few who had taken their lives in their hands had fallen before their adversaries, but to abound more in holiness, prayer, and steadfastness, nothing doubting, but that the Lord would arise in due time and plead the cause which is his own.

M’Kail having fevered from the torture, had not been tried along with Nielson, and it was thought his youth and the torments he had already endured would have been deemed sufficient punishment; but they knew little the mortal strife of ecclesiastics, when power is the object, who thus calculated, although the highest interest was made for him. He had insinuated a likeness between the primate and Judas—a crime never to be forgiven, for it was true; and being recovered so far as to allow his being moved, he was carried to court, December the 18th, and, together with seven others, indicted for rebellion, found guilty, and condemned. When allowed to answer for himself, he pled the obligations that were laid upon the land, and the oath of God under which they were bound. The last words of the National Covenant, he said, had always had great weight on his spirit; upon which the Lord Advocate interrupted him, and desired him to answer to his own particular charge. His answer was, “that he acted under a solemn impression of the saying of our Lord Jesus—‘Whosoever shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of Man also confess before the angels of God.’” When the sentence was pronounced, he cheerfully said, with meek resignation—“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

His prison hours were enviable, not composed merely, but full of joy. “Oh, how good news!” said he to a friend, “to be within four days’ journey of enjoying the sight of Jesus Christ.”When some women were weeping over him—“Mourn not for me,” was his cheering exhortation; “though but young, and cut down in the budding of my hopes and labour of the ministry, yet my death may do more good than many years sermons might have done.” On the last night of his life, after having supped with his father, some friends, and his fellow-prisoners, he burst forth in a strain of animated queries; among others, “How they who were hastening to heaven should conceive of the glories of the place, seeing it was written, ‘Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him?’ It is termed a glorious city and a bride; but, oh, how insufficient, how vastly disproportionate, must all similitudes be! therefore the Scripture furnishes yet a more excellent way, by conceiving of the love of Christ to us; that love which passeth knowledge, the highest and sweetest motive of praise—‘Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory, and dominion, for ever and ever, amen!’—by holding forth the love of the saints to Christ, and teaching us to love him in sincerity. This, this, forms the very joy and exultation of heaven!—‘Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing!’ Nothing less than the soul breathing love to Jesus can rightly apprehend the joys of heaven.” Then, after a while, he added, “Oh! but notions of knowledge, without love, are of small worth, evanishing into nothing and very dangerous.”

His great delight was in the Bible. Having read the 16th Psalm before going to bed, he observed, “If there were any thing in the world sadly and unwillingly to be left, it were the reading of the Scriptures—‘I said, I shall not see the Lord in the land of the living;’ but this needs not make us sad, for wherever we go, the Lamb is the book of Scripture and the light of that city, and there is life, even the river of the water of life, and living springs to delight its inhabitants.” He laid him down in peace, and slept sweetly from ten o’clock till five next morning. When he arose, he called his companion, John Wodrow, in a tone ofpleasantry—“Up John, you are too long in bed—you and I look not like men going to be hanged this day, seeing we lie so long.” Some time after, he made a striking and peculiarly happy allusion to his own situation, and that of his fellow-sufferers—“Earthly kings’ thrones have advocates against poor rebels; thy throne, O God, hath Jesus an advocate for us.” He early requested his father to take leave, lest their parting afterwards might discompose him, and to retire and pray earnestly that the Lord might be with him to strengthen him, that he might endure to the end. On the scaffold, a heavenly serenity beamed in his countenance. He ascended the ladder with alacrity, saying, “Every step of this ladder is a degree, nearer heaven.” Then looking down to his friends, he said, “Ye need neither be ashamed nor lament for me in this condition, for I can say, in the words of Christ, I go to your Father and my Father, to your God and my God.” Just before he was turned off, he burst out into this rapturous exclamation—“This is my comfort, that my soul is to come to Christ’s hand, and he will present it blameless and faultless to the Father, and then shall I be ever with the Lord! And now I leave off to speak any more to creatures, and begin my intercourse with God which shall never be broken off. Farewell, father and mother, friends and relatives—farewell, the world and all delights—farewell, sun, moon, and stars. Welcome—welcome, God and Father—welcome, sweet Jesus Christ, the mediator of the new covenant—welcome, blessed Spirit of grace and God of all consolation—welcome, glory—welcome, eternal life—welcome, death!” Then, after praying a little within himself, he said aloud, “O Lord into thy hands I commit my spirit, for thou hast redeemed my soul, Lord God of truth!” And thus leaving time, was joyfully launched into the boundless ocean of eternity.

The crowd of spectators was immense; and “when he died,” Kirkton tells us, “there was such a lamentation as was never known in Scotland before, not one dry cheek upon all the street, or in all the numberless windows in the mercate place. He was a proper youth, learned, travelled, and extraordinarily pious. He fasted every week one day, and signified, frequently, his apprehension of such a death as he died; and heavy were the groans of thespectators when he spoke his joys in death. Then all cursed the bishops who used to curse; then all prayed who used to pray, entreating God to judge righteous judgment. Never was there such a mournful day seen in Edinburgh—never such a mournful season seen in Scotland, in any man’s memory.”

The others were equally supported in the last trying hour, and cheerfully laid down their lives for a cause which they believed to be the cause of God and of their country, and which they never doubted would ultimately and gloriously triumph. Their names were, John Wodrow, a merchant in Glasgow—Ralph Shields, a merchant in Ayr, but an Englishman by birth—a Humphry Colquhoun, of whom Kirkton testifies, “that he spoke not like ane ordinary citizen, but, like an heavenly minister relating his comfortable Christian experiences, called for his Bible, and laid it on his wounded arm, and read John iii. 8., and spoke upon it most sweetly to the admiration of all”—John Wilson, of the parish of Kilmaurs, in Ayrshire—and Mungo Kaipo, from Evandale. Three of little note, and who agreed to some partial compliances, were pardoned.

While these bloody transactions were going forward in the capital, a commission was issued for the Earls of Linlithgow and Winton, Lord Montgomerie, and Mungo Murray, to hold a Justiciary Court in Glasgow, and Sir William Purves, solicitor-general, dispatched to prosecute. Four of the covenanters were accordingly brought before them, Monday, December 17th, all men in humble life—Robert Buntine, in Fenwick; John Hart, in Glassford; Robert Scott, in Dalserf; and Matthew Paton, in Newmills—found guilty that same day, and ordered to be hanged on Wednesday. They went to the gibbet with the same Christian fortitude, and evinced, by their deportment, that the same peace of God which had comforted the martyrs in the capital, dwelt also in them. But the impression which the dying declarations of the martyrs had made, especially of those last murdered in Edinburgh, forbade that they should be allowed the privilege of addressing the spectators in a quarter where their solemn testimonies might have deeper effect; and when the sufferers attempted to address the crowd, the drums were ordered to beat and drown their voices—adetestable practice, which proclaimed their dread of the truth they were vainly attempting to stifle. Rothes himself took a tour to the south-west, accompanied by the Earl of Kellie, Lieutenant General Drummond, Charles Maitland of Hatton, and James Crichton, brother to the Earl of Dumfries, as a Justiciary commission. At Ayr, twelve were tried and ordered for execution; eight in that town, two at Irvine, and two at Dumfries. When those at Ayr were to be executed, the executioner fleeing, and none being willing to perform the hated office, in this dilemma, the Provost had recourse to the shocking expedient of offering any of the prisoners pardon, upon condition of his hanging the rest of his brethren; and one Anderson was found, who purchased a few days’ miserable existence at this expense; yet even he had to be filled half drunk with brandy to enable him to perform the dreadful ceremony, while the sufferers, more to be envied than him, courageously met that death which he basely inflicted.

The conduct of William Sutherland, the executioner of Irvine, stands out in fine contrast with that of Anderson. This man, who had been born of poor parents in the wildest part of the Highlands, had been seized with an uncommon desire to learn the English language, which, with much difficulty, he acquired so well, as to be able to read the Scriptures in that tongue. He had acted as common hangman in the town of Irvine for some time; when, having been converted to God through the reading of the Bible, and the instructions of the persecuted, he scrupled about executing any person whom he was not convinced deserved to die. When the Ayr hangman fled, he was sent for, but would not move till carried by force to that town, and peremptorily refused to execute the prisoners, because he had heard they were godly men, who had been oppressed by the bishops; upon which he was committed to prison, and flattered, and threatened—first promised money, then told he would be hanged himself, if he persisted; yet nothing could either terrify or induce him to comply. When they called for the boots, “You may bring the spurs too,” said William, “ye shall not prevail.” The provost offered him fifty dollars, and told him he might go to the Highlands and live. “Aye, but where can I flee from my conscience?” was the pointedquery of the honest mountaineer. He was then placed in the stocks, and four musketeers stood ready with lighted matches, but the dauntless man bared his bosom, and told them he was willing to die; and they, finding him immoveable, dismissed him.[59]Anderson was also obliged to execute those condemned to be hung at Irvine. Universally detested, he left the country soon after and settled in Ireland, near Dublin, where his cottage was burned, and he perished in the flames. The others were, pursuant to their sentence, hung at Dumfries, whither the Commissioner went to endeavour to trace the conspiracy; but no other discovery was made than that the rising had been accidental, and that oppression had been the cause. Upwards of thirty-four had now been put to death by the hands of the executioner; yet these executions did more harm to the cause of prelacy than almost any other circumstance could have done, for the universal detestation of the people was heightened in proportion to the fortitude and composure of the sufferers, whose dying testimonies possessed a power and energy beyond that of a thousand sermons.

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