POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
1. How did the Covenanters follow up their victory at Drumclog?
2 What reverse did they suffer?
3 How did they account for it?
4. What was the growth of their army?
6. Who introduced confusion into their ranks?
7. What was the subject of debate?
8. How did it terminate?
9. Describe the forces at the battle of Bothwell Bridge.
10. Describe the battle and its issue.
11. What lesson may we learn from this defeat?
"They who profess Christ in this generation must suffer much or sin much," exclaimed one of the Scottish martyrs. The enemy was in power and every means was employed to compel the Covenanters to abandon their Covenant with God, break relation with Jesus Christ, and thus destroy their testimony. To accomplish this, the king and his courtiers subjected these inoffensive people to cruelties most shocking. While they remained steadfast in their Covenant, the violence increased; when any of them relaxed, one step of defection necessitated another, till they stood in the enemy's camp. The same process is ever true.
The massacre at Bothwell Bridge brought upon the Covenanters extreme distress. Their sufferings hitherto had been as a continual dropping on a very rainy day, with fitful gusts striking here and there; now a hurricane sweeps the country, bringing ruin and desolation in its broad path. Every available force was put in operation for the utter annihilation of the Covenanters. Their ardor for Christ and His royal rights must be quenched in their blood, and their testimony to the truth must be silenced. The king, the courts, the army, the bishops—all were combined for the overthrow of the Presbyterian system of faith and the Covenant of God. Upon the ruins of the temple of liberty, erected by the Reformers, King Charles had determined to build his castle of absolute despotism. He knew that the glory of Christ's supremacy would never fade out of the skies of Scotland, while Covenanters preached, prayed, and sang Psalms; nor would his despotism flourish while there were Covenanters to challenge his impious claim of authority over the Church, and iniquitous attempt to rule man's conscience. Hence the desperate attempt to overawe and suppress them.
After the battle of Bothwell Bridge, the first stroke of excessive cruelty fell upon the 1,200 prisoners who had surrendered on the field. They lay all night upon the cold ground huddled together like sheep, surrounded by a strong guard. It was a night of horror. The sentinels watched every motion, and shot at any hand or head that dared to stir. In the morning they were marched from their mossy bivouac, leaving the green field dotted with crimson pools, and strewn with the dead who had received fatal shots; there they lay in garments rolled in blood.
The prisoners were tied together, two and two, and driven to Edinburgh, as cattle to the slaughter. The journey was dreary, during which they suffered from hunger, weariness, cruel mockings, and barbarous treatment. In the Greyfriars' churchyard, there yet remains the small enclosure, into which these prisoners were driven like so many dumb animals. Here they were kept to await their sentence. Twelve hundred men, with scarcely comfortable standing room, without decent clothing, without sanitary accommodations, without proper food, without shelter, detained for months within these stone walls under a merciless guard—who can conceive of their sufferings? They had been stripped, all but naked; the hard ground was their bed; the sky was their roof; they were exposed to the heat of day, and the chill of night; the rains of July drenched them; the snows of November blanketed them.
During these wearisome months the number of prisoners constantly grew less, and mostly by melancholy means. Some of them subscribed a bond confessing themselves to be rebels and promising unconditional obedience to the king. The hardships of their condition, the threats against their lives, and the entreaties of relatives overpowered conscience. They were released only to be reproached, distressed, tormented, and pillaged at home, by the soldiers who overran the country. Their unholy bond sacrificed their peace with God, and brought no protection from man. Such is the effect of every compromise of God's people with the world.
Disease also reduced the number. Sickness arising from exposure, neglect, and ill fare, wrought havoc with their lives. The living watched carefully over their dying companions, as they lay on the cold hard ground, destitute of every earthly cordial and comfort. But the Balm of Gilead they had in plenty; the consolations of God were abundant; the promises distilled sweetness upon their lips; prayers filled the place with incense; the Psalms were as the music of heaven in their ears; the gates of glory opened wide for the dying; pain, sorrow, and darkness vanished from the soul, as it went forth from the earthly tabernacle to enter into the Eternal City.
Quite a few were condemned to death and executed on the scaffold. Prominent among these, were John Kid and John King, two ministers of Christ. They received their sentence with serenity and went hand in hand, to the place of execution. Their conversation was cheerful. Their outlook was far beyond the scaffold, and the city towers, and the high hills outlined on the sky, and even beyond the glowing sun that was then smiling in the west. What magnificent scenery their eyes must have rested upon, as they now had come to Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the innumerable company of angels, the spirits of just men made perfect! Already in triumphant faith they were walking the golden streets, with palms in their hands crowns on their heads, and songs in their hearts. Kid was a witty man, usually overflowing with innocent mirth; even in sight of the gallows his humor was insuppressible. Looking into King's face he made a pun on their own names, saying, "I have often heard and read of a kid sacrificed, but I seldom or never heard of a king made a sacrifice."
Four hundred of these Covenanters remained unmoved by threats, promises, sufferings, or protracted hardships. The painful weeks and months might wear them out, but they continued firm in the faith and testimony, resolved to honor their Lord and His Covenant while they had breath. They remembered the promise, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." They were of the unbending type.
The king's council, hopeless in attempting to bring them to terms, resolved to finish the irksome task by shipping all to distant lands. They placed 243 on a small sail-ship, which was tossed on the Atlantic ocean until engulfed amidst the waves. The remainder were never transported.
Dunnottar Castle.Dunnottar Castle.
Many Covenanters were confined in places even more intolerable than this. Dunnottar Castle became one of these notable spots. The castle stands on a rock that projects into the sea. Here still exists a deep dark room, called the "Whigs' Vault," where 167 Covenanters were crowded together. Forty-five of these were women. The room is 56 feet long, 16 wide, and 12 high, having two small windows. This outrageous disregard for sex, decency, health, and every natural right, aroused even the indignation of the governor's wife, at whose request the women, after some days, were removed to another vault. The prisoners suffered the horrors of these dark foul pits three months. But the Lord Jesus Christ did not forsake them; they were sustained by His abundant grace. He heard their mournful cries and upheld their faith. Some breathed out their lives on the hard stone floor, with no pillow on which to rest their aching heads. Blessed termination of the horrid cruelty! Even there the "pearl gate" opened wide, and the ransomed soul arose in power, and walked forth into the marvelous light of the world above. They who survived death were offered liberty on condition of taking the king's oath, and acknowledging his supremacy over Church and conscience. They persistently refused to do this. How great the loyalty of these men and women to the Lord Jesus Christ! Imprisonment with all its bitterness was sweeter to them than liberty with a defiled conscience.
The Bass Rock, too, was a penitentiary for the Covenanters. This is a lofty green rock arising boldly out of the sea near Edinburgh, having steep rugged sides, being accessible only at one point. Thither they brought, in the latter years of the persecution, the overflow of prisoners after the inland jails had been crowded. The rock is very desolate. This was the Covenanters' Patmos. Here Alexander Peden, John Blackader, and many others spent months and years, walking round and round over the storm-battered cliffs, or sitting on the ledges looking landward thinking of the desolated home, the broken family, the wasted Church, and the guilty land. When the waves dashed against the rock, and the breakers leaped high; when storms darkened the land, and billows whitened the sea; when nothing was heard but the noise of the waters, the roar of the tempest, and the scream of the sea-fowl, even then was the Holy Spirit there to illuminate these prisoners of hope. They held communion with God; visions of glory lighted up their dreary home; they moved amidst the scenery of heaven; the Bass rock was peopled with angels. Blackader has left on record some rich experiences he there enjoyed.
We are free to worship God according to conscience and the Word. But let us not forget that our liberty is the blossom, and our privileges the fruit, of the rough black root of persecution suffered by our forefathers. Had they not been faithful, we would have had to fight the battles they fought, and suffer as they suffered, or have perished in darkness. Will not we, for the sake of coming generations, be likewise faithful? The Lord Jesus grant us strength and success.
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
1. What was done with, the prisoners taken at Bothwell Bridge?
2. How did they suffer in Edinburgh?
3. Describe their prison, and their hardships.
4. What two of their ministers were executed?
5. Describe Dunnottar Castle.
7. Describe the Bass Rock.
8. For what was it used in those times?
9. How may we meet the obligations descending from the fathers?
The persecution of the Covenanters under King Charles II. had now continued twenty years. These were years of slaughter, and the horrors were still deepening.
The battle of Bothwell Bridge was followed by a climax of suffering and sacrifice. The wrath of the king, vented through the dragoons, fell upon every district where the Covenanters were located and followed them into their hiding-places. They were required to take the oath of loyalty, or suffer the direful consequence. Some were haled to the judges to be sentenced, others were shot like game where they were found. Like a fire that breaks out in a city and mercilessly devours while the flames find fuel, so this fire seemed destined to spread and devour till the last drop of Covenanted blood would sizzle on the coals.
The persecutors were in degree successful. Four hundred ministers, in 1662, had refused to receive orders from the king for the exercise of their ministry; they gave up home and all its comforts, rather than admit the king's claim of supremacy over the Church of Christ. These were now reduced to less than one hundred. Some were martyred, some were banished, some had died of old age and some of exposure; but many, if not most, had been constrained to accept the Indulgence and were gone back home. Their first love had been chilled by the wintry blasts. Their zeal for the Lord Jesus and His testimony abated as the hardships increased. Worn with suffering, emaciated with hunger, exposed to danger, grey with sorrows, and the darkness deepening with no relief in prospect, they weakened and accepted the terms of a false peace. But let them not be judged with harshness. Our Lord has said of such, "The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak." The struggle lasted eight more years, during which time there were sixty ministers standing by their Covenant instead of four hundred, and even these sixty, almost to a man, counted it expedient to suspend their testimony and keep silence.
Claverhouse.Claverhouse.
The real Covenanters however were not conquered. Death had slain thousands, and defection tens of thousands, yet the faithful had not lost heart. There was still a vigorous force of loyal men and women, earnest quiet people, who stood fearlessly by the Covenant and Testimony of Jesus Christ. They were called, "The remnant." With these the Holy Spirit was pleased to clothe Himself, for the good fight of faith which they continued with unabated ardor. They stepped into the firing line where the shock of war was heaviest, and became the aggressive party, demanding from the king their Covenanted rights. The Lord was ever with them; they heard Him saying, "Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." Their zeal and energy were but the crested waves of Omnipotence, the Lord's own strength surging along the strand of time, and dashing against the rocks of wickedness and misrule—waves of Divine energy that must yet overflow every land, overcome the whole world, and cover the earth with glory, as the waters cover the sea.
These strong-spirited, unbending Covenanters believed that the time had now come for a forward movement, and they accepted the task as from the Lord. They were not merely unconquerable; they were determined to conquer. At the beginning of the persecution they were passive, meekly submitting to reproach, spoilation, imprisonment, and death, for Christ's sake. This continued till patience was exhausted.
Their second attitude was that of self-defence. Oppression maketh a wise man mad. The people came armed to the Conventicles, and with swords and muskets met the troops that attacked the meetings. These acts of self-defence developed into two distinct efforts to raise an army for the redress of grievances. All this time the Covenanters recognized Charles II. as their king.
The third attitude was that of revolution. They now had reached this point. They challenge the king's right to reign. They resolve to take the crown from his head, and place it upon the brow of a man worthy of the honor, one who "feared God, and hated covetousness." What a daring task! what courage exhibited by these men! what unbounded confidence in the righteousness of their cause as they against all odds, all earthly advantages, and all human wisdom, proclaim the king's forfeiture of the throne, and face the consequences of that proclamation!
This was a forlorn battle. The distant outlook was hopeful and the final success was assured; but the present struggle must be sanguinary and the sacrifice of life dreadful. Every man that enlists in the army at this stage must expect to die on the field. This bold position of the Covenanters will surely be met by all the powers of darkness that can be massed against them. They now unfurl the Banner for Christ's Crown and Covenant on the very highest grounds; the persecution will therefore be waged, if possible, with tenfold greater fierceness. The king with all his engines of destruction will fight them most desperately; Satan with all his hosts will assail them ferociously. How can the noble band escape annihilation?
But who will lead the Covenanters in such a struggle? Who will command these "little flocks of kids," when the hosts of Syria fill all the country round about? Where are the ministers now, when the trumpet blast proclaims a revolutionary war against the king? While the dread notes echo from mountain to mountain, the most of them are in caves, hidden—like Obadiah's prophets. Three, only three, step forward. These lions of the Covenant are Cameron, Cargill, and Douglass. They grasp the old battle-banner, and carrying it to the new position call upon the Covenanted sons of freedom to rally under its floating folds. The "remnant" gave a noble response.
This self-sacrificing band was merely the advance guard of a great army that was now mustering in the providence of God for the restoration of civil and religious liberty. Little did they expect to win under existing conditions, but they could hold the hordes of darkness back, till the Lord Jesus would bring up His mighty forces for the decisive battle. They could throw themselves upon the enemy, and with the impact stay their progress. They laid down principles and began action that eight years later resulted in the Revolution under the Prince of Orange. Cameron, Cargill, and Douglass began the Revolution, and William, Prince of Orange, finished it.
The Covenanters engaged in this forward movement were henceforth called Cameronians. Richard Cameron was the leader. On the first anniversary of the battle of Bothwell Bridge, June 22, 1680, he with 21 mounted men rode into the quiet town of Sanquhar. They came in a martial spirit; each horse carried a Christian swordsman; they were armed for war. Reaching the heart of the town, they dismounted and reverently offered prayer. They then read aloud a Declaration of War against King Charles. This they nailed to the post at the crossroads. What a heroic celebration of the first anniversary of their greatest defeat! The paper carried this declaration:
"We do disown Charles Stuart as having any right, title to, or interest in, the crown of Scotland for government.
"We, being under the Standard of our Lord Jesus Christ, do declare a war with such a tyrant and usurper, and all the men of his practices as enemies to our Lord Jesus Christ and His cause and Covenants."
The men then quietly rode away, while the people read the Declaration with mingled joy and terror. The lions roared on the hills of Sanquhar, and the king's throne trembled; within a few years the monarch and his dynasty had disappeared from the earth.
These Covenanters prepared also another declaration which was called the Queensferry Paper. It contained the following statement of the principles, for which they contended:
"The avowal of the Scriptures as the only rule of faith and action;
"The promotion of the Kingdom of God by every possible and lawful method;
"Adherence to the Covenanted Reformation of the Presbyterian Church;
"The disowning of all authority which opposes the Word of God!"
With deathless bravery, they added the following:
"We bind and oblige ourselves to defend ourselves and one another, in the worship of God and in our natural, civil, and divine rights, till we shall overcome, or send them down under debate to prosperity, that they may begin where we end."
The fathers have finished their work. They nobly sustained the cause in their day; they gave their blood freely for its success; but they were not permitted to see the ultimate victory. The Covenant principles for which they contended are the hope of the world. The Covenant holds forth the highest standard for the Church and the nation. This standard must be reached, or prophecy must fail. The struggle has descended upon us in "debate." Will we be true to the task laid on us by the fathers, who unfalteringly carried the Banner of the Covenant amid fiercest battles? Will we be a strong link, or will we be a broken link, connecting the worthy past with the golden future? Which?
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
1. How did the true Covenanters become diminished?
2. With what spirit did the "remnant" sustain their trials?
3. What successive attitudes toward the king did they assume?
4. When did they proclaim a revolutionary war against the king?
5. Who were their leaders?
6. Where was the declaration of war issued?
7. What was the nature of the Queensferry declaration?
8. Under what obligations were future generations placed?
10. What task here has fallen to us?
Ayrsmoss is a household word among Covenanters. Here is one of the numerous spots where temporary defeat has been transformed into permanent glory. A granite monument with suitable inscription marks the place and honors the fallen heroes. This is the field where Richard Cameron with a hardy group of Covenanters met the foe, and fought the first fight of Scotland's Revolutionary war against King Charles II.
Ayrsmoss lies in the heart of a wide solitude. The eye takes in a wild, broken surface in all directions. Loneliness broods in the very air. The heart grows heavy and the eyes dreamy, while we sit on a tuft of rushes and gaze at the monument that bears the names of the worthy dead. Reverie readily rehabilitates the landscape, and, in vision, the field is covered again with the horrors of the engagement. The horsemen are dashing upon each other, the air is shattered with the discharge of guns, swords are flashing in the evening sunlight, men are falling, blood is flowing, the Covenanters are fleeing, and—Cameron lies on the field dead.
Richard Cameron had sounded the keynote of freedom, that reverberated all over Scotland, and down into England, and over into Holland, and at length struck the ears of William, Prince of Orange. Cameron and his Covenanted associates, having disowned the authority of King Charles, disputed by force of arms his right to reign. They had preferred three charges against him. These were:
(1) Perjury; (2) Usurpation; (3) Tyranny.
The king had grossly violated the Covenant to which he had given his oath. The Covenant was the Scottish Constitution of government, and the wilful subversion of it was treason.
He had usurped authority over the Church, posing in the prerogatives of the Lord Jesus Christ and trampling on the people's rights in the worship of God.
He had impoverished, imprisoned, exiled, and even slaughtered his subjects in great numbers, without other fault than their refusal to submit conscience to his tyrannic will.
Therefore, as perjurer, usurper, and tyrant, he must face the arbitrament of war. The proclamation has been published; the dauntless sons of the Covenant have forced the issue. In the name of the Lord of hosts they have unfurled the Banner for Christ's Crown and Covenant. It may often be torn with bullets and stained with blood, but it will never be folded till the cause of Christ and freedom prevail. These Covenanters have resolved "to continue the struggle till they overcome, or hand it down to posterity, that each generation may begin where the last ended." Such was the solemn bond that bound these Covenanters by their own voluntary action one to another, and all to God and freedom in the worship of God through Jesus Christ. It also joined all coming generations into an indivisible and invincible solidarity for the defence of liberty, the triumph of righteousness, and the glory of Christ in His Church.
The Declaration of war had been proclaimed in Sanquhar. There Cameron with his band of twenty-one men appealed to the God of battles and grasped the sword. They stood a few moments gazing solemnly at their Declaration, now nailed to a post and speaking to the nation. Holding their horses by the bridle, they tarried long enough to sing a Psalm to the God of nations, then mounted. Ere the tramp of their steeds had died away on the streets of Sanquhar, the news of the daring deed was spreading over the hills. The royal army, more than 10,000 strong, was quickly on the track of these daring revolutionists.
Cameron quailed not at the consequences of that day's work. His soul was on fire for the honor of the Lord Jesus Christ. He had expressed a desire to die fighting against the avowed enemies of his Lord. He never doubted the final issue; victory was sure in the end, whatever might be the reverses at the beginning and the losses by the way. "LET CHRIST REIGN," he exclaimed with prophetic fire; "LET CHRIST REIGN, is a standard that shall yet overthrow all the thrones of Europe;" and he spoke as if his flashing eyes saw the thrones reel, and his quick ears heard the crash of their fall.
Monument at Ayrsmoss.Monument at Ayrsmoss.
One brief month lay between Sanquhar and Ayrsmoss. Cameron and his little company moved cautiously over the desolate places. They roamed across the dreary moorlands, slept amidst the flowering heather, and pillowed their weary heads on the moss. The cold ground was their mattress; the chilling mist was their covering; the arching sky was their roof; the silent stars were their sentinels; the Lord God Almighty was their keeper. Thus they awaited the day of battle. Cameron betimes enjoyed the hospitality of friends who risked their lives in receiving him under their roof.
July 22, 1680, was the eventful day. The little band had strolled into the heart of this waste moor. Here were threescore valiant men, of the valiant of Israel. "They all held swords, being expert in war: every man had his sword upon his thigh, because of fear in the night." The actual number was sixty-three, twenty-three men were mounted. They hung about Cameron who never wearied in preaching Christ to their hungry souls. This day his voice was unusually solemn. He had an inward assurance that the sun, which was now flooding the landscape with glory and taking the chill of the night out of his veins, would glance its setting rays upon his blood and theirs, poured out upon that field. It was now 4 o'clock; the men were resting on the little knolls that studded the moor; their horses were grazing by their side; all eyes were often scanning the horizon; any minute danger might loom up.
"They come!" cried one who saw a troop verging on the moor. In a moment the sixty-three were on their feet; the horses were mounted and every man drew his weapon. Captain Hackston, a veteran in the Covenanted cause, took command. Cameron offered a prayer; his recorded prayer was not a plea for safety nor for victory, but that God would "spare the green and take the ripe." They chose their ground, and waited the coming of Captain Bruce with 120 troopers. With grim determination they watched the dragoons cover the ground. Every man was ready, every nerve was steady. The Covenanters had the courage of conscience; they knew they were in the right; their hearts sustained them; their Covenant reinforced them; they were assured of ultimate success. They will certainly achieve all that is best for this time, and for this occasion. Even a crushing defeat will be a moral victory. The outcome will be according to the will of God, and a necessary event in the progress of Christ's kingdom.
These men were sent forward, to stand on the firing line, and show the spirit, the courage, and the faith of the soldiers of Christ; behind them the spiritual world was filled with the armies of God. His twenty-thousand chariots and thousands of angels, were coming up for the successive engagements, that will yet fill the world with righteousness and the heavens with praise.
Bruce and his troop were received with a deadly volley; many of their saddles were emptied. Hackston led his horsemen in a desperate charge; he almost split the enemy's force in two; but his men being few, the dragoons enveloped him. His horse bogged; he dismounted, and used his sword with fearful effect. At last he fell, bleeding from many wounds. The Covenanters were overwhelmed and driven from the field. Nine lay dead, among whom was Richard Cameron. Twenty-six were killed on the other side, so steady the nerve and deliberate the aim of the Covenanters in the face of crushing odds. The war for freedom was now on; the first blood was shed and had consecrated Ayrsmoss. But the prize of liberty was of high value; other fields must yet be crimsoned with streams flowing from many a heart.
Our enjoyment of civil and religious liberty is so constant and ordinary that we scarcely wait a moment to think of the original cost. What pangs of sorrow, what years of hardships, what streams of blood our fathers paid for the inheritance of truth and freedom they have left their children! Let us be careful to appreciate the blood-bought blessings lest they flee away.
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
1. What monument has been erected at Ayrsmoss?
2. What previous proclamation occasioned this battle?
3. What charges did the Covenanters prefer against the king?
4. How long after the declaration till this fight occurred?
5. How did Cameron and his associates employ their time?
6. Who appeared in search of them?
7. How many men were on each side?
8. Who won the battle?
9. How account for God's people suffering defeat?
10. What was the cost of the liberty we enjoy?
11. How should we guard it for other generations?
Richard Cameron had fallen in the battle at Ayrsmoss; but the cause had not failed, nor would he be forgotten. "The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance." His years were brief, but his work was great. He was fresh and hearty, in the very prime of his life when he met death. The sun had only reached the meridian of his sky. While his powers were glowing with divine energy, and his ministry was making the deepest impression, the Lord called him home to glory. The translation from earth to heaven was sudden and sublime. One of the poets has painted his own conception of the event in a brilliant poem, entitled, "The Cameronian's Dream." That noble life, so full of zeal, action, and power, left a lasting imprint on the Church of the Covenanters. So mighty was his influence that the people who stood strictly to the Covenant were henceforth called Cameronians.
The field of Ayrsmoss presented a sad sight that evening. The departing day may have flung over it a glowing sunset, but nothing could relieve the gloom. The light was fading as the dragoons left, taking with them Captain Hackston and a few other bleeding prisoners. Night settled softly upon the moorland; the shout of the captains had given place to the stillness of death. Nine noble defenders of the Covenant lay pulseless in the dewy grass. The friends, soon as safety permitted, came and, gathering the bodies together, solemnly and sadly buried them in one broad grave. The present monument marks the spot where the precious dust awaits the resurrection.
The head and hands of Cameron were cut off and carried in ignoble triumph through the streets of Edinburgh. The head was elevated on the point of a spear and borne in front of the prisoners to the city jail. Cameron's father was a prisoner there at that time. The head and hands were presented to him, with the sneering question, "Do you know them?" The aweful shock quickly gave place to a gush of fatherly affection. The blood, the pallor, even the stare of the lifeless face, seemed to disappear in the heart-kindlings of the aged parent; to him the countenance was sweet as ever, the eyes were beaming, the lips were vocal, the brow was wreathed with holy dignity. A thousand tender scenes of the past must have rushed in upon the soul of the agitated father. He took up the cold pieces, dearer to him than his own flesh and, while tears flowed plentifully, kissed them, saying, "I know them; they are my son's; my own dear son's: the Lord can harm neither me nor mine; good is the will of the Lord."
Cameron lived in the most critical period of the Covenanted cause. His life of service and sacrifice arose into gigantic strength just when the Covenanted Reformation seemed to be ready for burial. The floodtide of Indulgence had almost submerged the testimony of the Covenanters. Many of the ministers had been caught in that Satanic snare. The remainder were overawed, or disabled with disease and old age. Yet there was a host of brave men and honorable women, thousands in number, who without a leader faced the increasing' fierceness of the persecution, and continued their testimony for Christ in defiance of the king's wrath. These were called the Society People, and Cameron during his public ministry was their standard-bearer.
Cameron and the Society People, afterward known as the Cameronians, have been severely criticised for their exclusiveness. They refused to hold fellowship with the Indulged ministers who had assented to the king's supremacy over the Church, and likewise with the Field-ministers, who had become mute on the Covenanted testimony. They are often represented as having been stern, censorious, and uncharitable in the extreme. A glance at Cameron's commission will show how baseless is the charge.
Richard Cameron received ordination in Holland, four months after the battle of Bothwell Bridge. The ordination service was very solemn and touching. The presbytery felt that they were commissioning a servant of God to do a work that would cost his life. While the ministers rented their hands on Cameron's head in the act of ordination, he was told by one of them, that the head whereon their hands were laid would one day be severed from his body and set up before the sun and moon for public view. Such was the vision of blood that moved before his eyes during the eight months of his ministry. At that same time he received also the exhortation: "Go, Richard; the public Standard of the Gospel is fallen in Scotland; go home and lift the fallen Standard, and display it publicly before the world. But before you put your hand to it, go to as many of the Field-ministers as you can find, and give them your hearty invitation to go with you."
True to his commission Cameron went. He sought out the Field-ministers. They now numbered about sixty. These were keeping close to their hiding-places; their voices scarcely went beyond the mouth of their caves; they counted their blood more valuable than their testimony for Christ and His Covenant. Twenty years of unabating hardships had unnerved them; the late avalanche of the king's wrath had overwhelmed them; they were mostly mute in witnessing for Christ, as the rocks behind which they were hiding.
Of the sixty ministers Cameron found only two who were willing to stand with him and hold up the Banner of the Covenant before the eyes of the nation. One of these, Thomas Douglas, quickly disappeared leaving Cameron and Cargill alone to lead the Covenanted people of God in the fight that was growing harder every day. These two dauntless ministers of Christ accepted the responsibility, knowing too well the price to be paid was their own blood. And they have been censured for their exclusiveness.
Four Young Covenanters DiscoveredFour Young Covenanters Discovered
Twenty years previous, the Covenanted ministers numbered one thousand. More than half of these had violated the Covenant by a resolution in 1650, to open the offices of public trust to men without moral qualification. Will the minority be censured for not following them? In 1662, the ministerial brotherhood was again rent in twain by the king's decree requiring them to submit, or quit the manse. Four hundred refused to comply. Will they be censured for withdrawing from their brethren who remained? In later years the Indulgences followed, one after another, capturing all except sixty. Will the sixty be censured for not following the others in submitting to the king's supremacy over the Church? And now all but two suspend the public testimony for Christ's crown. Will the two be censured for separating from the sixty, and holding forth the Banner of Christ?
Cameron and Cargill, with the Society people, stood on a basis separated from their brethren who had stepped off the basis, and had left them to struggle alone against mighty odds and fierce enemies, for the Covenanted Reformation to which all were bound by a solemn oath. These men, with the Society people at their back, stood by their Covenant and the oath of God, the others had departed. Censure the Cameronians for exclusiveness? Rather, be sincere and censure them for not slipping, and stumbling, and falling away, like their brethren from Covenant attainments. These worthies stood on the heights from which the others had departed, and waving the old battle-worn colors of the Covenant appealed unto them to come up and occupy the ground where they had formerly stood.
The Cameronians maintained a high position; but it was not chimerical or theoretical; it was practical and Scriptural; here was solid ground, a rock-foundation. On it were no sidings, no off-sets, no bogs. The truths they held were clear, clean-cut, adamantine, foundational, and unchangeable. Their oath bound them to defend the sovereignty of Christ, the kingdom of God, and the Reformed religion.
The banner still floats up there in the care of a few successors. Under the Lord of hosts, the Captain of the Covenant, they continue to this day without a thought of retreating, and trailing their colors in the dust. They are confident that Churches and nations will yet reach the heights of Covenant doctrine and fidelity under Jesus Christ. The bane of the Churches to-day is the slanting ground, adown which an evil influence is steadily drawing the people lower and lower. But in the last days the Holy Spirit will be poured out upon all flesh; then shall the world have a spiritual resurrection, and a glorious ascension to Covenant grounds, through the Lord Jesus Christ, "to whom be dominion and majesty for ever and ever." "The mountain of the Lord's house shall be established in the top of the mountains; and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it."
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
1. Describe Ayrsmoss on the night after the battle?
2. What did the enemy do with Cameron's body?
3. How did Cameron's life and death impress the Covenanters?
4. Why were the Cameronians called extremists?
5. Were they justifiable in separating from others?
6. Who joined Cameron in carrying out his commission?
7. What is the true position of Covenanters?
8. What is their mission in the world?
Donald Cargill was at this time the only minister of the Society people. He was the Lone Star appearing in the firmament of the Covenanted Church. The night was very cloudy. The storm of persecution had darkened the land; the defection of the Church had deepened the darkness; the wrath of the Lord, against the persecuting nation and the Covenant-breaking Church, had covered Scotland with a woeful night. The stars had disappeared till one alone, a solitary orb, had power sufficient to pierce the deadly gloom with its lustrous rays.
Donald Cargill was the Elijah of his day, the solitary standard-bearer of the Covenant after the death of Cameron. Doubtless there were seven thousand, yea, seven thousand twice told, who had not bowed the knee to Baal; but they were hidden in caves and in holes of the rocks, waiting for some terrible display of the power and glory of the Lord. There were many stars, but the night was too dark for them to shine; also they had become almost nebulous. Even Alexander Peden, Scotland's fiery prophet, who never weakened in the Covenant nor waned in his brilliant career—even he did not identify with the Cameronians in the declaration of war against King Charles and the demand for his abdication. Cargill was the lone leader of the dreadless Covenanters in their new and aggressive movement.
The last years of Cargill were his best, and his last services were his greatest. He grew like the cedar, increasing in strength, usefulness, and dignity till cut down by death. His zeal leaped into flames with the adverse winds: he did his noblest works when he was most sorely pressed. He conducted divine services even when wounded and bleeding; he carried the gashes of the sword into the pulpit and the scars of battle down to the grave. A glance at his wonderful career should be inspiring.
Even in childhood Cargill was noted for prayer. He grew up on a beautiful farm where the fields dip into the shady valley and ascend the lofty hills. Rugged nature taught the opening child-life to take on much beauty, grandeur, and dignity. He loitered often on the confines of the higher world in his meditations and in prayer. But especially the altar of worship, the family Bible, the fireside catechising, the stern discipline, and the solemn Sabbaths moulded the boy and awakened the powers that distinguished the man. Family religion, which was strict, solemn, and awe-inspiring made heroes of the men of the Covenant. Without family religion the children may be expected to become moral imbeciles and spiritual ciphers.
When Cargill was yet a youth, he was known to spend whole nights in prayer. What those nights must have been to that young heart! What unfoldings of the Gospel and of the love of God! What revelations of the beauties of Christ, the preciousness of His blood, and the treasures of His Covenant! What insight into the value of the soul and its commission from God! What views of stewardship, accountability, rewards, punishments, destiny, eternity! What visions of the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, His royal rights, His glory and majesty, His jealousy over the Church, His indignation against evil, His vindication of right! What those nights of prayer must have been to that boyish heart! The Holy Spirit came down upon the tender suppliant; the glory of the Lord shone round about him; the heavens bent and burst with blessings above his head; he made many an incursion into the upper world. What a wonderful life we may expect to arise out of a beginning like this! Look out for the boy that spends whole nights in prayer, or even whole hours talking with God! Assuredly the outcome will be amazing.
Donald Cargill.Donald Cargill.
Courage was prominent among the qualities that brought Cargill to the front and made him one of Scotland's many mighties. He was afraid of nothing except God's displeasure. His towering intellect, polished with education, instructed in the Bible, and irradiant with the Holy Spirit, gave him a wide horizon. He made the throne of the Lord Jesus Christ his viewpoint, and therefore saw things in their true relation. He had a strong, spiritual grasp of the truths of Christ and His universal dominion. He saw Jesus crowned with many crowns; the Church united to Christ in marriage; and all the universe subject to Christ for the Church's sake. Cargill's clear and comprehensive view of Christ and His universal dominion enabled him to take the right side in the great struggle that was then shaking Scotland's foundations. He wisely chose the strong side. He cast his lot in with the poor "remnant," who were hunted, captured, and executed as fast as the bloodhounds of King Charles could do their cruel work. Most men called this the weak side, but Cargill's eyes took in the spiritual world. He gazed upon the infinite power of God, the omnipotence of truth, the armies of heaven. He knew that all the forces of righteousness were moving forward in matchless harmony in support of the "remnant" who kept faith with the Lord Jesus Christ. In the consciousness of this almighty strength, which was at his back, how could he be afraid?
Cargill accepted the office of the Gospel ministry with a deep sense of unworthiness. When urged to enter the ministry he hesitated and spent a day in fasting and prayer to discover the mind of the Lord. God spoke to him by sending into his heart the irresistible command: "Son of man, eat this roll, and go speak unto the house of Israel." He took this to be the answer, as these words rang in his ears day and night. He hesitated no longer; from that time he was consecrated to the work of the Gospel, and his zeal made him a bright target for the foe.
His regular service on one occasion fell on the anniversary of the king's restoration to the throne. The house was crowded; the country was rejoicing with the king, though he had already launched upon the crimson tide of persecution. Casting a glance over the audience and judging that many had come to do the king honor, his soul flamed into indignation, and his eyes flashed with scorn for the crowned murderer. "We are not here," said he, "to keep this day as others keep it. We thought once to bless the day when the king came home again, but now we have reason to curse it. If any of you have come to solemnize this day, we desire you to remove." Then arising into passionate vehemence, he cried, "Woe, woe, woe unto the king! His name shall be a stench while the world stands, for treachery, tyranny, and lechery." From that day they sought his life to take it away; yet he lived and preached twenty more years.
Cargill's life was tossed about on roughest waves. He made many narrow escapes. Near his early home lies a deep valley, adown which a mountain stream rushes within a rock-rimmed channel, churning itself into milky whiteness. On one occasion he was pursued by soldiers all the way from Dundee, nine miles distant. He fled down the steep cliff and leaped the chasm. The soldiers following him came to the spot but dared not to jump. Cargill walked up the opposite embankment and escaped. Being reminded one day that he had made a good leap he humorously replied, "Yes, but I had a good run before the leap."
At another time he saw a group of soldiers approaching in search of him. He coolly walked forward and, taking a square look at them, went on. They not knowing him personally never once thought that a man of such an airy countenance could be the one for whom they were searching. At Queensferry the house still stands where he and Captain Hall were arrested. The brave Captain threw himself between Cargill and the officer. The struggle was a tough one; Hall was mortally wounded; Cargill, too, was much hurt but escaped. But this did not prevent him from keeping his engagement at a Conventicle; he preached in his wounds. Nothing but death seemed able to check this man of God in the work of the Gospel. His greatest service however is yet to be related.
Have we incorporated the element of Divine strength into our lives? Do we make the throne of Jesus our viewpoint, from whence we see all things related to Him, and through Him to each other? Do we stand for the right, however weak that side may seem, knowing that all the powers that be of God are on that side? The times call for heroic lives, men who will not flinch under reproach, nor apologize for their convictions; men who will support the truth at any cost, and denounce sin at every hazard. Can the Church now furnish such men?