■ .'
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES
RINGAN GILHATZE;
THE COVENANTERS.
EDINBURGH :
PRINTED JtY OLIVEK & BOYD,
HIGH STREET.
RINGAN GILHAIZE;
OR
THE COVENANTERS.
0
IIY I lit AD i HOB i i
" ANNALS OF THE PARISH,'1 " SIB ANDREW
wvi.i i •:,"* '• in i i \ i \i i." ft*.
i il constancy in torture ami in death, —
I I -till live, thnc shall
i-st pa^' b* pictured bright
nt-s.
-HAUL
I n i'iiHi:i: VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOB OLIVEB .V HOV1), HIGH STREET;
AM) O. -v u. U. \\ HITTAKEU, LOND >».
ig2a
RINGAN GILHAIZK.
CHAP. I.
I was conducted into a straight and dark chamber, and the cord wherewith my handi were bound was untied, and a Bhackle put upon my right wrist ; the flesh of my left was so galled with the cord, that the jailor was softened at tin- Bight, ami from the humanity of his own nature, refrained from placing the iron on it, lost the rust should fester the quick wound.
Then I was left alone in the gloomy soli- tude of the prison-room, and the ponderous doors were shut upon me, and the harsh bolts driven with a horrid grating noise, that caused my very bones to dinle. But even in
VOL. III. a
15v2C0
2 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
that dreadful hour an unspeakable consola- tion came with the freshness of a breathing of the airs of paradise to my soul. Methought a wonderful light shone around me. that I heard melodious voices bidding me be of good cheer, and that a vision of my saintly grand- father, in the glorious vestments of his heavenly attire, stood before me, and smiled upon me with that holy comeliness of countenance which has made his image in my remembrance ever that of the most venerable of men ; bo that, in the very depth of what I thought would have been the pit of despair, I had a delightful taste of those blessed experiences of divine aid, by which the holy martyrs were sustain d in the hours of trial, and cheered amidst the torments in which they sealed the truth of their testimony.
After the favour of that sweet and celestial encouragement, I laid myself down on a pal- let in the corner of the room, and a gracious sleep descended upon my eyelids, and steeped
RINGAN GILHAIZE.
the sense and memory of my griefs in forget- fulness. When I awoke the day was tar
0
spent, and the light through the iron stainchera
of the little window Bhowed that the shadows
of tin- twilight were darkening over the world. I raised myself on my elbow, and Listened to the murmur of the multitude that I heard -til! lingering around the prison ; and sometimes 1 thought that I discovered the voice of a friend.
In that situation, and thinking of all d dear cares which filled my heart with tender- ness and fear, and of the agonizing grief of my little boy, the sound of whose cries -till echoed in my bosom, I rose upon my knees and committed myself entirely to the custody of Him that can give tin- light of liberty to tin- captive even in tin- gloom of the dungeon. And when I had done so I again prepared to lav myself on the ground ; but a rustle in the darkness of the room ilnw my attention, and in the same moment a kind hand was laid on mine.
4 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
" Sarah Lochrig,'1 said I, for I knew my wife's gentle pressure, — " I low is it that jrou air with me in this doleful place? I low found you entrance, and I not hear you come in?"
Rut before Bhe had time to make answer, another's fond arms were round my neck, and in v affectionate young Michael wept upon my shoulder.
Bear with me, courteous reader, whin I think of those things, — that wife and that child, and all that I loved bo fondly, are no more ! But it is not meet that I should yet tell how my spirit was turned into iron and mv heart into stone. Therefore will I still endeavour to relate, as with the equanimity of one that writes but of indifferent things, what further ensued during the thirteen days of my captivity.
Sarah Lochrig, with the mildness of her benign voice, when we had mingled a few tears, told me, that after I went to Galloway
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 5
with Martha Swinton, she had been moved by our neighbours to come with our children into the town, as being safer for a lanerly woman and a family left without its head ; and a pro- vidential thing it was that Bhe had done so; for on the very night that my brother came oil" with the nun of the parish to join u^, as I
have noted down in its proper place, a gang of dragoons plundered both his house and mine ; ami but that our treasures had been timeously removed) his family having alsi> gone that day into Kilmarnock, the outrages might have been unspeakable.
We then hail some household discourse, anent what was to be done in the event of things coming to the worst with me; and it was an admiration to hear with what constan- cy of reason, and the gifts of a supported judgment, that gospel-hearted woman spoke of what she would do with her children, if it was the Lord's pleasure to honour me with the crown of martyrdom.
6 RIXGAN GILHAIZE.
" But,'1'' said she, " I hae an assurance within that some great thing is yet in store for you, though the hope be clouded with a doubt that I'll no be spar't to Bee it, and therefore let us not despond at this time, but use the means that Providence may afford to effect your deliverance.,1
While we were thus conversing together the doors of the prison-room were opened, and a man was let in who had a eruisie in the one hand and a basket in the other. He was lean and pale-faced, bordering on forty years, and of a melancholy complexion ; his rye was quick, dee]) set, and a thought wild ; his long hair was carefully combed smooth, and hi- apparel was singularly well composed for a person of his degree.
Having set down the lamp on the Moor, he came in a very reverential manner towards where I was sitting, with my right hand fet- tered to the ground, between Sarah Lochrig and Michael our son, and he said, with a
RINGAN (ilLIIAIZE. 7
remarkable and gentle simplicity of voice, in the Highland accent, that he had been request- ed by a righteous woman, Provost ReicTs wife, to bring me a bottle of cordial wine and some little matters, that I might require for bodily consolation.
" It's that godly creature, Willie Suther- land the hangman," said my wife. " Though Providence has dealt hardly with him, poor man, in this life, every body savs he has got- ten arlcs of a servitude in glory hereafter."
When he had placed the basket at the knees of Michael, he retired to a corner of the room, and stood in the shadow, with his face turned towards the wall, saving, " I'm concern^ that it's no in my power to leave yon to yoursels till Mungo Robeson come back, for he has loekit me in, but 111 no hearken to what you may say ;" and there was a modesty of manner in the way that he said this, which made me think it not possible he could be of so base a vocation as the pub-
8 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
lie executioner, and I whispered my opinion of him to Sarah Loch rig. It was, however, the case ; and verily in the life and con- duct of that simple and pious man there was a manifestation of the truth, that to him whom the Lord favours it smnifieth not whatsoever his earthly condition may he.
After I had partaken with my wife and son of some refreshment which they had brought with them, and tasted of the wine that Provost Reid's lady had sent, we heard tlu- bolts of the door drawn, and the clanking of keys, at which Willie Sutherland came forward from the corner where he had stood during the whole time, and lifting the lamp from the floor, and wetting his fore-finger with spittle as he did so, he trimmed the wick, and said, " The time's come when a" persons not prisoners must depart forth the tolhooth for the night; but, Master Gilhaize, be none- discomforted thereat, your wife and your little one will come back in the morning, and your
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 9
lot is a lot of pleasure ; for is it not written in the book of Ecclesiastes, fourth and eighth, ' There is one alone, and there is not a second ; yea, he hath neither child nor brother P1 and such an one am I."
The inner door was thrown open, and Mungo Robeson, looking in, Baid, u I'm wee to molest you, but veil hae to come out, Alr^ Gilhaize."1 So that nighl we were separat- ed ; and when Sarah Lochrig was gone, I could not but offer thanksgiving that my lines had fallen in so pleasant a plate, compared with the fate of my poor brother, Buffering among Btrangersin the doleful prison of Glas- gow, under the ravenous eyes of the prelate of that city, then scarcely less hungry for the bodies of the faithful and the true, than even the apostate James Sharp himself.
a2
10 RINOAN 6ILHATZE.
CHAP. II.
The deep sleep into which I had fallen when Sarah Lochrig and my son were admitted to see me, and during the season of which they had sat in silence beside me till revived na- ture again unsealed my eyes, was so refresh- ing, that after they were gone away I was enabled to consider my condition with a com- posed mind, and free from the heats of passion and anxiety wherewith I had previously been
atly tossed. And calling to mind all that had taken place, and the ruthless revenge with which the cruel prelates were actuated, I saw, as it were written in a hook, that for my part and conduct I was doomed to die. I felt not, however, the sense of guilt in my conscience ; and I .said to myself, that this sore thins oiudit not to be, and that, as an innocent man and the
RINGAN filLIIAIZE. 11
head of a family, I was obligated by all ex- pedient ways to escape, if it were possible, from the grasps of the tyranny. So from that time, the first night of my imprisonment, I Bel myself to devise the means of working out my deliverance; and I was not long without an encouraging glimmer of hope.
It seemed to me, that in the piety and miii-
plieityof Willie Sutherland, instruments were given by which I might break through the walls of my prison; and accordingly, when he next morning came in to see me, I failed not to try their edge. I entered into dis- course with him, anil told him of many things which I have recorded in this book, and so won upon his confidence and the single- ness of his heart, that he shed tears of grief at the thought of so many blameless men being ordained to an untimely end.
" It has pleased God,1' said he, " to make me as it were a leper and an excomnumicant in this world, by the constraints of a low
12 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
estate, and without any fault of mine. Ikit for this temporal ignominy, He will, in 1 1 1> own good time, bestow an exceeding great reward; — and though I may be called on to fullil the work of the persecutors, it shall \<t Ik' stL'ii of me, that I will abide l>\ the in- tegrity of inv faith, ami that, poor despised hangman as I am, I have ;i ience that
will not brook a task of iniquity, whatsoever tin- laws of man may determine, or the King's judges decree."
I wa>, as it were, rebuked by this proud religious declaration, .and I gently inquired how it was that ho came to fall into a condi- tion so rejected of the world.
•• Deed, mi," said he, k" mv tale is easy
told. Mv pan-nts were very poor needful people in Strathnavar, and no able to keep me; and it happened that, being cast on
the world, I became a lu ril, and vear by year, having a desire to learn the Lowland tongue, I got in that way as far as Paisley,
RINtiAN GILHAIZK 13
where I fell into extreme want and was almost famished ; for the master that I served there being in debt, ran away, by which cause I lost my penny-fee, and was obligated to beg in \ bread. At that time many worthy folk in the shire <>f Renfrew having Buffered great molestation from witchcraft, divers malignant women, suspectit of thai black art, were brought to judgment, and one of them being found guilty, was condemned to die. But iu» executioner being in the town, I was engaged, hv the Bcriptural counsel of some honest nan. who quoted to me the text, * Suffer not a witch to live,1 to fulfil the sentence of the law. After that I bought a Question-book, having a mind to learn to read, that I might gain some knowledge of nn Wokd. Finding, however, the people of Paisley Bcorn at my company. so that none would give mealesson, I came about five years since to Irvine, where the folk are more charitable ; and here I act the part of an executioner when there is any
14 RINGAN 61LHAIZE.
malefactor to put to death. But my Bible has instructed me, that I ought not to execute any save such as deserve to die; so that, if ye ■Jiould be condemned, as like is you will be, my conscience will ne'er allow me to execute yon, lor I see you are a Christian man."
I was moved with a tender pity by the tale of the simple creature; but a Btrong ne- cessity was upon me, and it was needful that I should make use of his honesty to help me out of prison. So I spoke still more kind- ly to him, lamenting my sad estate) and that in the little time I had in all likelihood to live, the rigour of the jailor would allow but little intercourse with my family, wishing same compassionate Christian friend would intercede with him in order that my wife and children, if not permitted to bide all night, might be allowed to remain with me a> long ami as late as possible.
The pious creature said that he would do for me in that respect all in his power, and
RINGAN i.ILIIAIZE. 15
that, as Mungo Robeson was a soIht man, and aye wanted to go home early to his family, he would biile in the tolbooth to let out my wife, though it should be till ten o'clock at night, — •• foresaid he piteoualy, " I hae one family bo
care about.""
Accordingly he bo set himself, that Mungo Robeson consented to leave the keys of the tolbooth with him ; and forseveral nights < n r\ thins wax bo managed that he had no reason to Buspect what my wife and I were plottii for he being of a modest and retiring nature, never -poke to her when she parted from me, niw when -he thanked him as he let lur out; and that she did not do every night, lest it should grow into a habit of expectation with him, and cause him to remark when the civi- lity was omitted.
In the meantime all things being concerted between us, through the mean of a friend a can was got in readiness, loaded with seem- ingly a hogget of tobacco and grocery wares,
16 KINiiAN G1LHA1ZE.
l>ut the hogget was empty and loose in tlu' head.
This was all Bettled by the nineteenth of December ; on the twenty-fourth of the month the Commissioners appointed to try the Cove- nanters in the prisons throughout the shire of Ayr were to open their court at Ayr, and I was, l)_v all who knew of me, regarded in a maimer a> a dead man. On the night of the twentieth, however, shortrj before ten o'clock, James Gotten, our friend, came with the cart in at the town-head port, and in going down the LCait BtOpped, a> had l> rivd. to give
lii^ beast a drink at the trough of the cross- well, opposite the tolh.xith--.tair foot
When the clock struck ten, tli*. time ap- pointed, I was ready dressed in my wit apparel, having, in the course of the day, broken the chain of the shackle on my arm ; and thr door being opened by Willie Suther- land in the usual manner, I came out, hold- ing a napkin to my free, and weeping in
kim. an GI1/HAIZE. 17
sincerity very bitterly, with the thought of what might ensue to Sarah Lochrig, whom I left behincLin my plfl
In reverence to my grief the honest man ■aid nothing, but walked by my aide till he had let me out at the outer-stair head-door, where he parted Prom me, carrying the k< to Mungo Robeson's house, aneath the tol- booth, while I walked towards -! sGottei cart, and was presentl) in the inside « » t" the get.
With great presence of mind and a soldier- ly self-possession, that venturous friend then drew the horse's head from the trough, and I gan to drive it down the street to the town-end port, >tri\ ing as he did bo i<> whistle, till he i as rebuked for bo doing, as I heard, l>\ an old wo- man then going home, who said to him that it was a shame to hear Buch profanity in Irvine when a martyr doomed to die \wi^ lying in the tolbooth. To the which he replied scoffing- lv. "that martyr was a new name for a Bworn
18 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
rebel to king and country," — words which so kindled the worthy woman's ire, that she be- gan to ban his prelatic ungodliness to such a degree that a crowd collected, which made me tremble. For the people sided with the
zealous earlin, and spoke fiercely, threatening tO gar Janus Gotten ride the Btang for his
sinfulness in so traducing persecuted Chris- tians. What might have come t<> pass is hard to say, had not Providence been pleased, in tli at most critical and perilous time, to cause
a foul him in a thacket house in the Sea- gate to take fire, by which an alarm was spread that drew oft' the mob, and allowed
James Gotten to pa-- without farther m<>. tation out at the town-end port.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 1(J
CHAP. III.
From the time of my evasion from the tol- hooth, and during the controversy between James Gottera and the mob in the street, there was a whirlwind in my mind that made me incapable of reason. Hut when we had passed thorough th<- town-end port, and the cart had stopped at the minister's cane till I could throw off my female weeds and put on a sailor's garb, provided for the occa- sion, tongue nor pm cannot express the pas- sion wherewith my yearning soul was then affected.
The thought of having left Sarah Lochrig within bolts and bar-, a ready victim to the tyranny which bo thirsted for blood, lightened within me as the lightnings of heaven in a storm. I threw myself on the ground, — I grasped the earth, — I gathered myself as it
20 BINOAN GILHAIZE.
were into a knot, and howled with horror at my own selfish baseness. I sprung up, and cried, "I will save her yet !" and I would have run instanter to the town ; but the honest
man who was with me laid his grip firmly
upon my arm. ami Bald in a sohnm manner —
•• This is n<> Christian conduct, Ringan (iilhai/r; tin Lord has qqi forgotten to he graciou
■ '1 upon him. as he has often since
told i j, with a Bhudder, and cried, " But I hae lefl Sarah Lochrig in their hands, and, like a coward, run away to save mwl."
•• Compose yourBel, Ringan, and let us rea- son together,11 wa- hi> discreet reply. "It's vers true ye hae come away and lrf't your wife
it were an hostage in the prison, hut the persecutors and oppressors will rcsjiek the courageous affection of a loving wife, and Providence will put it in their hearts to spare her.'1
•• And if they do not, what shall I then
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 81
1m_'? and u hat's to become of niv babies? — Lord, Lord, thou bast tried me beyond m\ strength !"
And I again threw myself on the earth, and cried that it might open and swallow me; for, thinking but of myself, I was become im- worthy to live.
The considerate man stood over me in compassionate silence t'"r a season, and al- lowed me to rave in my frenzy till I had hausted myself.
•• Ringan," said he at last, "ye irere reap skit as a thoughtful and discreet charac- ter, and I'll no blame you for this Borrow; but I entreat you to collek voursel, and think what's best to be done, tor what avails in
trouble the cry of alas, alas! or the shed- ding of many tears? Your wife is in prison, hut for a fault that will wring compassion even firae the brazen heart of the remorseli James Sharp, and bring hack the blood of humanity to the manswom breast of Charles
22 RINOAN GILHAIZE.
Stuart. But though it were not so, thej daurna harm a hair of her head; for thi are things, man, that the cruellest dread bo do for fear o* the world, even when they hae Lost the fear o1 God I count her far Bafer, Ringan, Brae the rage of the persecutors, where she lies in prison aneath their bolts and hars, than were she free in her own house; for it obligates them t<> deal wi1 her openly and afore mankind, wh od-will the worst
of princes and prelates are, from an inward power, forced to respek; whereas, were she sitting lanerly and defenceless, wi1 naebody mar but only your four helpless wee birds, there's no saying what the gleds might do. Therefore be counselled, my frien', and dinna gfa yoursel up utterly to despair; but, like a man, for whom the Lord has already done great things, mak use of the means which, in this ieopardy of a1 that's sae dear to you, he hae graciously put in your power.*'
I felt myself in a measure heartened by
RINGAN (.IMIAIZE. 23
this exhortation, and rising from the ground completed the change I had begun in my ap- parel; but I was still unable to speak, — which he observing, said —
" Hae ye considered the airt ye ought now to take, for it canna be thai yell think of bid- ing in this neighbourhood P*
•• No; not in thi> land.*" I exclaimed; w- would that 1 mighl not even in this life!'1
M AN'hi-lii ! Ringan Gilhaize, that's a sin- ful wish for a Christian,*1 said a compassionate voice at my side, which made us both start: and on looking round we saw a man who, during the earnestest of our controversy, hail approached close to us unobserved.
It was that gospel-teacher, my fellow-sufier- er, Mr Witherspoon ; ami his sudden appari- tion at that time was a blessed accident, which did more to draw my thoughts from the an- guish of my affections than any thing it was jx>ssible for James Gottera to have said.
He was then travelling in the cloud of
24 R1NGAN GILHAIZE.
night to the town, having, after I parted from him in Lanerkshire, endured many hard- ships ;ind perils, and his intent was to p to his friends, in order to raise a trifle of money to transport himself for a season into
Ireland.
But James Gottera, on hearing this, m- terposed hi^ opinion, and said, a rumour teas abroad that in all ports and towns of embarkation orders were given to stay the departure of pas -. so thai to a Buret)
he would be taken if he attempted to quit the kingdom.
By this time my mind had returned into something like a state of sobriety; so I told him how it had been concerted between me
and Sarah Lochlig, that I should pass over
to the wee Cumbrae, there to wait till the destroyers had passed by; for it was thought not possible that such an inordinate thirst for
blood, as had followed upon our discomfiture at Rullion-green, could be of a long conti-
5
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 25
nuance; and I beseeched him to come with me, telling him that I was provided with a small purse* of money in case need should re- quire it, bul in the charitable hearts of the piou^ we mighl count on a richer store.
Accordingly we agreed to join <>ur for- tunes again; and having parted from James Gottera at Kilwinning, we wenl <>n our way together, and my heart was refreshed by Un- kind admonitions and surd converse of my companion, though ever and anon the thought of my wife in prison, and our defence! lambs, shot like a fiery arrow through my bosom. But man is by nature a sordid crea- ture, and the piercing December blast, the threatening sky, and the frequent shower, soon knit up my thoughts with the care of my worthless self: maybe there was in that the tempering hand of a beneficent Provi- dence; for when I have at divers times sinei considered how much the anguish of my inner sufferings exceeded the bodily molestation, I
VOL. III. B
26 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
could not but confess, though it was with a humbled sense of my own selfishness, that it was will for mi', in such a time, to be so respited from the upbraidings of my tortured affections.
But not to dwell on the specialties of my own feelings on that memorable night, let it suffice, that after walking some four or five miKs towards Pencorse ferry, where we meant to pass ti> the island, I became less and less attentive to the edifying discourse of Mr Witherspoon, and his nature also yielding to the influences of the time, we travelled along the bleak and sandy shore between Ardrossan and Kilbride hill without the interchange of conversation. The wind came wild and gurly from the sea, — the waves broke heavily on the shore, — and the moon swiftly wading the cloud, threw over the dreary scene a wander- ing and ghastly light Often to the blast we were obligated to turn our backs, and the rain being in our faces, we little heeded each other.
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 27
In that state, so like sullenncss, wc had journeyed. onward, it might be better than a mile, when, happening to observe something lying on the shore as if it had been cast out by the sea, I cried under a sense of fear —
" Stop, Mr Witherspoon j what's that ?'"
In the same moment he uttered a dreadful sound of horror, and on looking round. 1 saw we were three in eomp;ui\
" In the name of Heaven," exclaimed Mr Witherspoon, " who and what are you that walk with us -""
But instanter our fears ami the mystery of the appearance were dispelled, for it was mv brother.
28 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
( HAP. IV.
•• Wir.L, Ringan," Baid my brother, •■ m have nut again in this world ; it's :i blessing I never looked for;* and he held ou1 bis two hands to take hold of mine, but the broken links of the shackle still round my wrist mad.
him cry out —
" What's this? — Wharf haeye come firan f
but I needna Squire.11
" I have broken out of the tolbooth o1 Ir- vine," Baid I, " and I am fleeing here with Mr Witherspoon."
k4 I too.*" replied my brother mournfully, ■• hae escaped from the hands <>f the perse-
cutors.'"
We then entered into some conversation concerning what had happened to us respec- tively, from the fatal twenty-eighth of No-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 29
w mber, when our power and host were scat- tired on Rullion-green, wherein Mr Wither- sj)oon, wi til me, rehearsed to him the accidents herein set forth, with the circumstantials of some things that befell the- godly man after I left him with the corpse of the baby in his arms; but which being in some points less of an adventurous nature than had happened to myself, I shall be pardoned by the courteous reader for not enlarging upon it at greater
length. I should however lure note, that Mr Witherspoon was not so severely dealt with as I was; for though an outcast and a fugi- tive, yet he wa& not a prisoner; on the con- trary, under the kindly cover of the Lady Auchterfardel, whose excellent and truly covenanted husband was a sore sufferer by the fines of the year 16b'2, he received great hospitality for the space of sixteen days, and Was saved between two feather beds, on the top of which the laird's aged mother, a bed- rid woman, was laid, when some of Drum-
30 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
mond's men searched the house on an infor- mation against him.
But disconsolatory as it was to hear of such treatment of a gospel-minister, though light- ened by the reflection of the saintly constancy that was yet to be found in the land, and among persons too of the Lady of Auehter- fardel's degree, and severe as the trials were,
both of body and mind, which I had myself undergone, yet were they all as nothing com- pared to the hardships of my brother, a man of a temperate sobriety of manner, bearing aJl changes \uth a serene countenance and a placable mind, while feeling them in the ut- termost depths of hi^ capacious affections.
" On the night of the battle," said he, " it would not be easy of me to tell whieh way I went, or what ensued, till I found myself with three destitute companions on the skirts of the town of Falkirk. By that time tlu.- morning was beginning to dawn, and we per- ceived not that we had approached so nigh
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 31
unto any bigget land ; as the day, however, broke, the steeple caught our eye, and we halted to consider what we ought to do. And as we were then standing in a Held diffident to enter the town, a young woman came from a house that stands a little way oil* the road, close to Graham's dyke, driving a cow to grass with a long stall", which I the more remarked as such, because it was of the In- dian cane, and virled with silver, and headed with ivory.
" ' Sirs/ said Menic Adams, for that was the damsel's name, l I see what ve are, but I'll iv> speir ; how sei er, be ruled by me, and gang na near the town of Falkirk this morning, for atwish the hours of dark and dawn there has been a congregationing o' horses and men, and other sediments o"1 war, that I hae a notion there's owre meikle o1 the Kind's power in the place for any Covenanter to enter in, save under the peril o' penalties. But come w? me, and I'll go back wi' you.
32 RINGAN GILIIAIZi;.
and in our hay-loft you may BCOg yoursels till the gloaming
" "Who could have thought," said niv bro- ther, kt that in such discourse from a young woman, not passing tour and twenty yean erf age, and of a pleasant aspect, any guilty
Stratagem of blood was hidden .'"'
He and his friends never questioned her truth, but went with her, and she conducted them to her father's house, and lodged them
in the hav-loft.
It seems that Menie Adams was, however,
it the time betrothed to the prelatie curate that had been laid upon the parish, and that,
in consequence, aneath her tourtesy, she had concealed a verj treacherous and wicked in- tent. For no sooner had she got my brother and his three companions into the hav-loft, than she hies herself away to the town, and, in the hope of pleasing her prelatie lover, informs the captain of the troop there of the birds she had ensnared.
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 33
As soon as the false woman had thus com- mitted the sin of perfidy, she went to the curate to igrag how she had done a Bervice to hi> cause; hut he, though of the prelatac ger- mination, being yet a person who had some reverence for truth and the gentle mercies of humanity, was bo disturbed l>v her un- womanly disposition, that he hade her depart from his presence for ever, and ran with all possible speed to waken the poor nan whom she had so betrayed.
On his way to the house he SOW a party of the soldiers, whom their officer, as in duty bound, was Bending to seize the unsuspecting sleepers, and running on before them, he just got forward in time to give the alarm.
My brother and one of them, Esau War- drop, the wife's brother of James Gottera, who had been so instrumental in my evasion, were providentially enabled to get out and flee; but the other two were taken by the soldiers and carried to prison.
b 2
3-t R1NGAN 6ILHAIZS.
The base conduct of that Menie Adams, as we sonic years after heard, did not go long unvisited by the displeasure of Heaven; for some .-cent of licr guilt taking wind, the whole town, in a sense, grew wild against her, and she was mobbet, and the wells pump- ed upon her by the enraged multitude'; and she never recovered l'n in the handling that fhe therein suffered.
My brother and Esau Wardrop, on getting into the open fields, made' all the' speed they could, like' the panting hart when pursued l>\ the hunter, and distrusting the people of that part of the country, they travelled all day, not venturing proach any reeking house.
Towards gloaming, however, being hungry and faint, the craving of nature overcame- their fear-, and they went up to a house where- they Baw a light burning.
As they approached the- door they falter- ed a little in their resolution, for they heard the elissonance of riot and revelry within.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 88
Their need, however, was great, and the im- portunities of hunger would not be pacified; so they knocked, and the door was soon open- ed by a soldier, the party within being a horde of DalziePs nun, Living at free quar- ters in the house of that excellent Christian and much— persecuted man, the Laird of
Ringlewood
^36 KINGAN GILHAIZE.
(HAP. V.
The moment that the man who came to the door saw, by the glimpse of the light, that both my brother and Esau Wardrop had >\vords at their sides, hi- uttered a cry of alarm, thinking the house was surrounded; at which all the riotous Boldierfl within flew to their iinns, whilt the man who opened the door seized my brother by the throat and harPt him in. The panic, however, was but of short duration; for 'my brother soon ex- pounded that they were two perishing men who came to surrender themselves; so the door was again opened, and Esau Wardrop eommanded to come in.
" It's but a justice to say of those rampa- geous troopers,"" said my brother, " that, con- sidering us as prisoners of war, they were
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 37
free and kind enough, though they mocked at our cause, and derided the equipage of our warfare,, But it was a humiliating sight to see in what manner they deported them- selves towards the unfortunate family."
Ringlewood himself, who had remonstrated against their insolence to his aged leddy, they had tied in his arm-chair and placed at the head of his own table, round which they sat carousing, and singing the roister ribaldry of camp-songs. At first, when my brother was taken into this seene of military domination, he did not observe the laird ; for in the up- roar of the alarm the candles had been over- set and broken, but new ones being sworn for and stuck into the necks of the bottles of the wine they were lavishly drinking, he discovered him lying as it were asleep where he sat, with his head averted, and his eyes shut on the iniquity of the scene of oppression with which he was oppressed.
Some touch of contrition had led one of
v>t » ^ *
38 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
the soldiers to take the aged matron under his care ; and on his intercession she was not placed at the table, but allowed to sit in a corner, where she mourned in silence, with her hands clasped together, and her head bent down over them upon her breast. The laird's grandson and heir, a stripling of some fifteen years or so, was obligated to be page and butler, for all the rest of the house had taken to the hills at the approach of the troopers.
As the drinking continued the riot increas- ed, and the rioters growing heated with their drink, they began to quarrel : fierce words brought angry answers, and threats were fol- lowed by blows. Then there was an interpo- sition, and a shaking of hands, and a pledging of renewed friendship.
But still the demon of the drink continued to grow stronger and stronger in their kind- ling blood, and the tumult was made perfect by one of the men, in the capering of his ine-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 39
briety, rising from his seat, and taking the old leddy by the toupie to raise her head as he rudely placed his foul cup to her lips. This called up the ire of the fellow who had sworn to protect her, and he, not less intoxi- cated than the insulter, came staggering to defend her ; a scuffle ensued, the insulter was cast with a swing away, and falling against the laird, who still remained as it were asleep, with his head on his shoulder, and his eyes shut, he overthrew the chair in which the old gentleman sat fastened, and they both fell to the ground.
The soldier, frantic with wine and rage, was soon, like a tiger, on his adversary ; the rest rose to separate them. Some took one side, some another ; bottles were seized for weapons, and the table was overthrown in the hurricane. Their serjeant, who was as drunk as the worst of them, tried in vain to call them into order, but they heeded not his call ; which so enraged him, that he swore they
40 KINGAN GILHAIZE.
should shift their quarters, and with that BPiajpg a burning brand from the (.'lunula, he
ran into a bedchamber that opened from the room where the riot was raging, and set fire to the curtains.
Mv brother seeing the flames rising, and that the infuriated war-wolves thought <»nly of themselves, ran t<> extricate Ringlewood from tlu cords with which he was tied ; and calling to the U-ildv and her grandson to quit the burning house, everj one was soon out of danger from the fire.
The sense ^>\' the soldiers was not so over- borne bv their drink a> to prevent them fri
ing the dreadful exto at of their outraj but instead of trying to extinguish the flam . they marched away to seek quarters in some otlnr place, cursing the serjeant for having so unhoused them in such a night
At first they thought of carrying my bro- ther and Esau Wardrop with them as prison- ers ; but one of them said it would be as well
RINCtAN GILHAIZS. 41
to give the wyte of the burning, at head- quarters, to the rebels; so they left them lie- hind.
I -hi Wardrop, with tho young laird and my grandfather, seeing it was in vain to stop the progress of the fire, did all that in them lay to rescue some of the furniture, while poor old Ringlewood and hi> aged and gentle lady, being both too infirm to lend any help, stood tm the green, and saw the devouring element pass from room to . till their an-
cient dwelling was utterly destroyed. Fortu- nately, however, the air was calm, and the outhouses escaping the ruinous contagion of the flames, there was -till a beild left in the
barn to which they could retire.
In the meantime the light of the burning spread over the country; but the people know- ing that soldiers were quartered on Ringle- wood, stood aloof in the dread of fire-arms, thinking the conflagration might be cau>td by some contest of war ; so that the mansion
IS HIM. an OILHAIZE.
of a gentleman much beloved of all his neigh- bours was allowed to burn to the ground before their eyes, without any one venturing to come to help him, to bo great a degree had distrust and the outrages of military riot at that epoch altered the hearts of nun.
M \ brother and Esau Wardrop staid with EUnglewood till the morning, and had, for the space of three or lour hour-, a restoring deep. Pain would they nave remained longer there, but the threat of the Boldiers to accu tlu'in as tin' incendiaries made Rinidi-uood urge them to depart; saying, that maybi time would come when it would be in his power to thank them for their help in that dreadful night. Hut he was not long exposed to many sufferings; for the leddy on the day following, as in after-time we heard, was seised with her dead-ill, and departed tin* life in the course of three days; and the laird
also, in less than a month, was laid in the kirk-yard, with his ancestors, by her side.
RINOAM GILHAIZE. 4tf
CHAP. \ I.
A i iii; Leaving Ringlewood, the two fugi- lives, l>\ divers journeyings and sore pas through ino-> and moor, crossed the BaUoch ferry, and coming down the north side <>t' the Clyde frith to Ardmore, they boated ten to Greenock, where, in I i 1 1 L c • more than an hour after their arrival, they were taken in Buphan Blair's public in Cartsdyke, and the sum night marched • ><!' to GlasgoM ; of all which I have already given intimation, in rc- oording my own trials at Inverkip.
But in that march, a> my brother and Esau Wardrop were } > i - - i n <^- with their guard at the Inchinnaa ferry, the soldiers heedlessly laying their firelocks all in a heap in the boat, the thought came into my brother's head, that maybe it might bo turned to an advantage if
44 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
he was to spoil the powder in the firelocks; so, as they were Biting in the boat, he, with seeming innocence, drew his hand Beveral times through the water, and in lifting it, ton!, care to drop and sprinkle the powder-pans <>i the firelocks, in so much, that by the time
they were ferried to the Renfrew Bide, the) were spoiled for immediate US
u Do as I do," Bflid he softly to Esau Wardrop, as they were stepping out, and with that he feigned some small expedient for tarrying in the boat, while the soldiers taking their arms, leapt on shore. The ferryman also was out before them; and my brother
ing this, took up an emingly to help
him to Btep out ; hut pretending at the time to stumble, he caught hold of Esau's shoulder, and pushing with the oar, shoved off the boat in such a manner, that the rope was pulled out of the ferryman's hand, who was in a great consternation. The soldiers, however, laugh- ed at seeing how the river's current was carry-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. **
ing away their prisoners; for my brother was in no hurry to make use of the oar to pull the boat back ; on the contrary, he pushed her farther and farther into the river, until
one of the guards beginning to suspect some
Stratagem, levelled his firelock, and threaten- ed to shoot. Whereupon my brother and Esau epiickened their exertions, and soon reached the opposite side of the river, while the soldiers wciv banning and tearing with race to be so outwitted, and their firelocks rendered useless I'm- the tune.
As soon as the fugitives were within wade- able reach of the bank, they jumpit out of the boat and ran, and were not long within the scope of their adversaries' hie.
By this time the sun was far in the west, and they knew little of the country about where they were ; but, before embarking, the ferryman had pointed out to them the abbey towers of Paisley, and they knew that, for a long period, many of the humane inhabitant-
1
46 RINGAN GILIiAIZE.
of that town had been among the* faithfullest of Scottishmen to the cause of the Kirk and Covenant ; and therefore, they thought that, under the distraction of their circumstan- ces, maybe it would be their wisest course to direct their steps, in the dusk of the evening, towards the town, and they threw aside their amis, that they might pass as simple wayfaring men.
Accordingly, having loitered in the way thither, they reached Paisley about the heel of the twilight, and searching their way into the heart of the town, they found a respect- able public near the (ids-, into which tin \ entered, and ordered some consideration of vivers for supper, just as if they had been on market business. In so doing nothing par- ticular was remarked of them ; and my bro- ther, by way of an entertainment before bed-time, told his companion of my grand- father's adventure in Paisley, the circumstan- tials whereof are already written in this book ;
RINGAN GILIIAIZK. 47
drawing out of what had come to pass with him, cheering aspirations of happier days for themselves.
While they were thus speaking, one of the town-council, Deacon Fulton, came in to have a cap and a crack, with any >t ranger that might be in the house. — This deacon was a man who well represented and was a good swatch of the plain honesty and strict principles which have long governed within that ancient borough of regality. He seeing them, and being withal a man of shrewd discernment, eyed them very sharply, and maybe guessing what they were anil where they had come from, entered into a discreet conversation with them anent the troubles of the time. In this he showed the pawkrie, that so well be- comes those who sit in council, with a spicerie of that wholesome virtue and friendly sympa- thy of which all the poor fugitives from the Pentland raid stood in so great need. For, without pretending to jealouse any thing of
48 RINOAN GILHAIZE.
what they were, he spoke of that business as the crack of the day, and told them of mam of tin' afflicting things which had been perpe- trated after tin.- dispersion of the Covenanters, laying —
•• It*- a thin£ to he deplored in all time coming, that tin' poor misguided folk, con- cern't m that rash wark, didna rather take refuge in the towns, and among their bre- thren and fellow-subjects, than flee to tin- hills, where they are hunted down \\i" dog and gun
beasts o* an ill kind. Really every body's
was for their folly ; though to he Mire, in a
nient sense, their fault's past pardon.
It"> no indeed a thing o' toleration, that mi1>-
jects are to rise against rulers.*1
• Trui ." -aid my brother, " unless rulers fall against subjects.*"
The worthy magistrate looked a thought seriously at him; no in reproof for what he hail said, or might Bay, hut in an admonitory manner, Baying —
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 49
" Ye "re oWre douce a like man, I think, to bae been either art <>r part in this head- strong Reformation, unless ye had aome great cause to provoke von ; and I doubt na ye bae discretion enough do to contest without need points o" doctrine; at Least forme, I'm laith t<> enter on ony sort o1 polemtic, for it's a
Glide's truth, I'm nae deacon at it.""
My brother discerning l>\ hi- manner that he saw through them, would have refrain't at the time from further discourse ; btfl Esau Wardrop was, though i man of few words, yet of such austerity of faith, thai he could not abide to have it thought he «;i- in any time <w place afraid for himself to bear his testimony, even when manifestly uncalled <»n to do ; bo he here broke in upon the consider- ate and worthy counsellor, and said —
" That a covenanted spirit was bound, at a' times, and in a" situations, conditions, and circumstances, to uphold the cause."
" True, true, we are a* Covenanters,*' re-
VOL. III. C
90 RIM, AN OLLHAIZE.
pliwl the deacon, M and Gude forl)icl that I >liniil(l e'er forcet tin- vows I took when I was in a manner ;i bairn ; hut there1! an unoo difference between the auld covenanting and ihi>. Lanerk New-light. In the auld times, our forebean and our fathers covenanted t<> show their power, that the king and govern- ment might consider what they were doing. And they betook n<>t themselves to the sword, till the quiet warning of almost all the realm MinU'd in one league had proved ineffectual; tad when at la^t there was oae help for't,
; thej were qalled by their conscaei
and dangers to eird themselves for battle,
they went forth in the might and power of
the arm of flesh, as wed .1- of a righteous
But, sirs, this doaeie buamess of the
Pentland raid was but a splurt, and the pub-
. ; the C< venant, after the ]WM>r folk
had made themselves rebels, was, to say the
n't. a weak conceit.*1
"We were not rebels,* cried EsauWardrop.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 51
" Hoot toot, friend," said the counsellor, •• yi/iv owre hasty, I did na ca1 the poor folk rebels in the sense of a rebellion, wlu might takes tin- lead in a controversy wi" right, hut because they had risen against the law."
« There can be nae rebellion against a lau that teaches things over which man can hav< no control, the thought and the conscience," said Esau Wardrop.
'* Aye, ave," replied the counsellor, " a that's vera true ; hut it' it please the wisdom
of the King, by and with the advice of his privy counsellors, to prohibit certain actions— and surely actions are neither thoughts nor con- sciences,— do ve mean to say that the subject's do Ixmnd to obey such royal ordinano
M Aye, if the acts are in themselves harm- less) and trench not upon any man's rights of property and person.'1
11 Weel, I'll no debate that wi1 you," re- plied the worthy counsellor; u but surely yell ne'er maintain that conventicles, and the de-
52 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
-■ rtion of tin n pillar and appointed placet <>l worship, are harmless; nor can it be denied thai sic things do not tend t<> aggrieve and impair the clergy baith in their minds and means
" I confess that." -aid Esau ; " but think, ih.n thi conventicles and desertions, whereof \> speak, sprang oul « »t" an arbitrary and un- called-for disturbance of the peaceful worship of God. Evil-counselling caused them, and evil-counselling punishes khem till the punish- im m can he no ' ndured.*1
•• Yr'iv a dou re-headed man," said Deacon Pulton, •• and really ye har gi'en me sic a
• o' your knowledge, that I can do no l< than make you a return : bo tak this, and bide nae (anger in Paisley than your needs rail." "With thai he laid his purse on the table and went away. But scarcely had he depart- the house, when who Bhould enter hut the ven soldiers from whom my brother and Esau had bo marvellously escaped.
RINGAN GILHAIZE
CHAP. \ II.
The noise of taking up my brother and Esau Wardrop to the tolbooth by the soldiers bred a great wonderment in the town, and the ma- gistrates came into the prison l them. Then it was that they recognised their friend- ly adviser anions those in authority, lint he signified, bj w inking i<» them, that they should not know him; to which they comported themselves so, that it passed a* he could hav< wished.
•• Provost,* said he to the chief magistrate, who was then present with them, •• though thir honest men be concerned in a fret against the king's government, they're no just ini- quitous malefactors, and therefore it behoves us, for the little time they arc to bide here, to deal compassionately with them. This is a damp and cauld place. I'm Mire
54 BINGAN GILHAIZE.
we might gi'e them the use of the couneil- chamber, and direk a bit spunk o1 fire to be kinuTt. It's, ye ken, but for this night they are to be in our aught ; and their crime, ye ken, provost, was niair o' the judgment than the heart, and therefore we should think how
ue are a1 prone to do evil." J{\ this sort of petitionary exhorting, that
worthy man carried his point ; and the pro- vost consented that the prisoners should be removed to the council-chamber, where he directed a fire to be lighted for their solace.
■• Moo, honest men," said their friend the deacon, when he was taking Leave of them, after seeing them in the council-room, " I hope veil make yoursels ;b eonforttable a> men in your situation can reasonably be ; and look w." said he to my brother, " if the wind should rise, and the smoke no vent sac Wee! ;h ye could wis", which is sometimes the
se in blowy weather when the door's shut, just open a wee bit jinkie o7 this window, and
RINGAN G1LHAIZE. 55
he gave him a squeeze on the arm — it looks into my yard. — Hell ! but it's weel mindet, the !>ar on my back-yetfs in the want <>" rcpara- tion — I maun sec tilH the morn.1''
There was no difficulty in reading the whumpkt meaning of this couthiness anent the reeking o1 the chamber ; and inv brother and Esau, when the door was locket on them for the night, soon found it expedient to open the window, and next morning the kind coun- sellor had more occasion than ever to get the bar o" his back-vet t repaired ; for it had vielded to the grip of the prisoners, who, long afore day, were far beyond the eye and jurisdiction of the magistrates of Paisley.
They took the straight road to Kilmarnock, intending, if possible, to hide themselves among some of my brother Jacob's wife's friends in that town. He had himself l>een dead some short time before ; but in the course of their journey, in eschewing the high-road as much as possible, they found a
•JO RIXGAK GILHAIZE.
good friend in a cotter who lived on the edge of the Mearns moor, and with him they were persuaded to bide till the day of that night when we met in so remarkable a manner on the sanda of Ardrossan; and the cause that brought him there was one of the severest trials to which he had yet been exposed, as I shall now rehearse.
James Greig, the kind cotter who sheltered them for the better part of three weeks, W8J hut a poor man, and two additional inmates consumed the meal which be had laid in for himself and his wife, so that he was obligated to apply twice for the loan of some from a neighbour, which caused a suspicion to arise- in that neighbour's mind; and he being loose- tongued, and a talking man, let out what he thought in a public at Kilmarnock, in pre- sence of some one connected with the soldiers then quartered in the Dean-castle. A party, m consequence, had that morning been sent out to search for them; but the thoughtless
KING AN GILHAIZE. 57
man who had done the ill was seized with a remorse of conscience for his folly, and came in time to advise them to flee ; but not so much in time as to prevent them from being Been by the soldiers, who no sooner discovered them than they pursued them. What became of Esau Wardrop was never known ; he was no doubt shot in ins flight ; but my brother was more fortunate, for he kept so far before those who in particular pursued him. that, al- though they kept him in view, they could not overtake him.
Running in this way for life and liberty, he came to a house on the road-side, inhabited by a lanerlv woman, and the door being open he darted in, passing thorough to the yard be- hind, where he found himself in an enclosed place, out of which he saw no other means of escape but through a ditch full of water. The depth of it at the time he did not think of, but plunging in, he found himself up to the chin ; at that moment he heard the sol-
c 2
58 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
diera at hand ; so the thought struck him to
remain where he was, and to go under a
bramble-bush that overhung the water. By
this means he was so effectually concealed,
that the soldiers, losing sight of him, wreaked
their anger and disappointment on the poor
Human, dragging her with them to the Dean-
-ile. where they threw her into the dun-
on, in the darkness of which she perished,
was afterwards well known through all
that country-side.
After escaping from the ditch, my brother turned his course more northerly, and had closed his day of suffering on Kilbride-hill, •vhere, drawn bv his affections to seek some knowledge of his wife and daughter, he had resolved to risk himself as near as possible to Quharist that night ; and coining along with the shower on his back, which blew so strong in our faces, he saw us by the glimpses of the tempestuous moonlight as we were ap- proaching, and had denned himself on the
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 59
road-side till we should pass, being fearful we might prove enemies. Some accidental lament or complaint, uttered unconsciously by me, made him, however, think he know the voice, and moved thereby, he started up, and had just joined us when he was discovered in so awakening a manner.
Thus came my brother and I to meet after the raid of Pentland ; and having heard from me all that he could reasonably hope for, re- garding; the most valued casket of his affec- tions, he came along with Mr Witherspoon ; and we were next morning safely ferried over into the wee Cumraes, by James Plowter the ferryman, to whom we were both well known.
There was then only a herd's house on the island ; but there could be no truer or kinder Christians than the herd and his wife. We staid with them till far in the year, hearing often, through James Plowter, of our friends; and above all the joyous news, in little more
60 KINGAN GILHAIZE.
than a week after our landing, of Sarah Lochrig having been permitted to leave the tolbooth of Irvine, without farther dule than a reproof from Provost Reid, that had more in it of commendation than reproach.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 61
CHAP. VIII.
It is well set forth in all the various his- tories of this dismal epoch, that the cry of blood had gone so vehemently up to heaven from the graves of the martyred Covenanters, that the Lord moved the heart of Charles Stuart to more merciful measures, but only for a season. The apostate James Sharp and the other counsellors, whose weakness or wick- edness fell in with his tyrannical proselytising purposes, were wised from the rule of power, and the Earls of Tweeddale and Kincardine, with that learned sage and philosopher Sir John Murray, men of more beneficent dispo- sitions, were appointed to sit in their places in the Priw Council at Edinburgh ; — so that all in our condition were heartened to return to their homes.
b'2 RINGAN GILIIAIZE.
As soon as vre heard that the ravenous soldiery were withdrawn from the shire of Ayr, my brother and I, with Mr Wither- spoon, after an abode of more than seven months in yon solitary and rocky islet, re- turned to Quharist. But, 0 courteous reader, I dare not venture to tell of the jov of the meeting-, and the fond intermingling of em- braces, that was too great a reward for all our sufferings; — for now I approach the memo- rials of those things, by which the terrible Heavens have manifested that I was ordained from the beginning to launch the bolt thai was chosen from the quiver in the armory of the Almighty avenger, to overthrow the op- pressor and oppression of my native land. It i- therefore enough to Btate, that upon my return home, where I expected to find my lands waste and my fences broken down, I found all things in better order than they maybe would have been had the eye of the master been over them ; for our kind neigh-
RING AN GILHAIZE. &J
bours, out of a friendly consideration for my family, had in the spring tilled the ground and sown the seed, by day-and-day-about labour ; and surely it was a pleasant thing, in thu midst of such a general depravity of the human heart, so prevalent at that period, to hear of such constancy and christian-mind- ednesa ; for it was not towards my brother and me only that such things were done; the same was common throughout the country towards the lands and families of the perse- cuted.
Hut the lown of that time was as a pet day in winter. In the harvest, however, when the proposal came out that we should give- bonds to keep the peace, I made no scruple of signing the same, and of getting my wife's father, who was not out in the raid, to be my cautioner. In the doing of this I did not re- nounce the Covenant, but, on the contrary, I considered that by the bonds the King was as much bound to preserve things in the state
64 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
under which I granted the bond, as I was to remain in the quiet condition I was when I signed it.
After the bonds of peace came the indul- gence, and the chief heritors of our parish having something to say with the Lord Tweed- dale, leave was obtained for Mr Swinton to come back, and we had made a paction with Andrew Dornock, the prelatic curate and in- cumbent, to let him have his manse again. Hut although Mr Swinton did return, and his family were again gathered around him, lie would not, as he said himself to me, so far Ik>w the knee to Baal as to brine the church of Christ in any measure or wav into Erastian dependence on the civil magistrate. So he neither would return to the manse nor enter the pulpit, but continued, for the space of several years, to reside at Quharist, and to preach on the summer Sundavs from the win- dow in the gable.
In the spring, however, of the year 1674;
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 65
he, after a lingering illness, closed his life and ministry. For sometime he had felt himself going hence, and the tenour of his prayers and sermons had for several months been of a high and searching efficacy ; and he never failed, Sabbath after Sabbath, just before pronounc- ing the blessing, to return public thanks that the Lord was drawing him so softly away from the world, and from the storms that were gathering in the black cloud of prelacy which still overhung and darkened the min- istry of the Kirk of Scotland, — a method of admonition that was awfully awakening to the souls of his hearers, and treasured by them as a solemn breathing of the inspiration of prophecy.
• When he was laid in the earth, and Mr Witherspoon, by some handling on my part, was invited to 11 the void which his removal had left among us, the wind again began to fisle, and the signs of a tempest were seen in the changes of the royal Councils.
66 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
The gracious-hearted statesmen before spoken of were removed from their benignant spheres like falling stars from the firmament, and the Duke of Lauderdale was endowed with the ]x)w<_t to persecute' and domineer.
Scarcely was he seated in the Council when the edicts of oppression were renewed. The prelate became clamorous for his interference, and the penalties of the bonds of peace pre- sented the means of supplying the inordinate wants of his rapacious wife. Steps were accord- ingly soon taken to appease and pleasure both. The court-contrived crime of hearing the G<><- pel preached in. the fields, as it was by John in the Wilderne^ and Jesus on the Mount, was again prohibited with new rigour ; and I for one soon felt that, in the renewed per cution of those who attended the conventicles, the King had again as much broken the con- ditions under which I gave the bond of peace, as he had before broken the vows of the Solemn League and Covenant ; so that
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 07
when the guilty project was ripened in his bloody councils, that the West Country should be again exasperated into rebellion, that a reason might be procured for keeping up a standing army, in order that the three kingdoms might be ruled by prerogative in- stead of parliament, I freely confess that I was one of those who did refuse to sign the Ixmds that were devised to provoke the rebellion, — bonds, the terms whereof sufficiently mani- fested the purpose that governed the trainers in the framing. We were required by them, under severe penalties, to undertake that nei- ther our families, nor our servants, nor our tenants, nor the servants of our tenants, nor any others residing upon our lands, should withdraw from the churches or adhere to con- venticles, or succour field-preachers, or per- sons who had incurred the penalties attached" to these prelate-devised offences. And be- eause we refused to sign these bonds, and continued to worship God in the peacefulness
08 RIXGAN GILHAIZE.
of the Gospel, the whole country was treated by the Duke of Lauderdale as in a state of revolt.
The English forces came mustering against us on the borders, the Irish garrisons were drawn to the coast to invade us, and the lawless Highlanders were tempted, by their need and greed, and a royal promise of in- demnity for whatsoever outrages they might commit, to come down upon us in all their fury. By these means ten thousand ruthless soldiers and unreclaimed barbarians were let loose upon us, while we were sitting in the sun listening, I may say truly, to those gra- cious counselling which breathe nothing but peace and good-will. When, since the burn- ing days of Dioclesian the Roman Em- peror,— when, since the massacre of the pro- testants by orders of the French king, on the eve of St Bartholomew, was so black a crime ever perpetrated by a guilty govern- ment on its own subjects ? But I was myself
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 69
among the greatest of the sufferers ; and it is needful that I should now clothe my thoughts with sobriety, -and restrain the ire of the pen of grief and revenge. — Not revenge ! No ; let the word be here — justice.
The Highland host came on us in want, and, but for their license to destroy, in beggary. Yet when they returned to their wild homes among the distant hills, they were laden as with the household wealth of a realm, in so much that they were rendered defenceless by the weight of their spoil. At the bridge of Glasgow, the students of the College and the other brave youths of that town, looking on them with true Scottish hearts, and wrathful to see that the barbarians had been such rob- .bers of their fellow-subjects, stopped above two thousand of them, and took from them their congregations of goods and wares, wear- ing apparel, pots, pans, and gridirons, and other furniture, wherewith they had burden- ed themselves like bearers at a flitting. My
70 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
house was stript to a wastage, and every thing was taken away ; what was too heavy to be easily transported was, after being carried some distance, left on the road. The very shoes were taken off my wife's feet, and " ye'll no be a refuse to gi'e me that," said a red-haired reprobate as he took hold of Sarah Lochrig\s hand, and robbed her of her wedding-ring. I was present and saw the deed ; I felt my hands clench ; but in my spirit I discovered that it was then the hour of outrage, and that the Avenger's time was not yet come.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 71
CHAP. IX.
Rarely has it fallen to the lot of man to be so blessed with such children as mine ; but surely I was unworthy of the blessing. And yet, though maybe unworthy, Lord, thou knowest by the nightly anthems of thankfulness that rose from my hearth, that the chief sentiment in my breast, in those moments of melody, was my inward acknowledgment to Thee for having made this world so bright to me, with an offspring so good and fair, and with Sarah Lochrig, their mother, she whose life 'was the sweetness in the cup of my felicity. Let me not, however, hurry on, nor forget that I am but an historian, and that it befits not the juridical pen of the character to dwell upon my own woes, when I have to tell of the sufferings of others.
72 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
The trials ami the tribulations winch I had heard bo much of, and whereof I had witnessed ><> many, made me in a sense but little liable to be moved when told of
any new outrag But the sight of that
Highlander wrenching from Sarah Lochrk finger our wedding-ring, did, in its effects and influences, cause a change in my natun
sudden, and a> wonderful, a> that w Inch the rod of Moses underwent in being quickened nit" b Berpent.
For Borne time I -at a- I was Bitting while the deed was doing; and when my wife, after the plunderers had departed, Baid to me,
ithingly, that we had rea-on to he thank- ful for having endured no other loss than a lit t K world's gear, she was surprised at the
lateness with which I responded to her pious condolements. Michael, our first-born, then in the prime beauty of his manhood, had been absent v. hen the robbery was com- mitted, and coming in, on hearing what had
6
RINIiAN GILHAIZE. 73
been done, flamed with the generous rage of youth, and marvelled that I had been so calm. My blithe and blooming Mary, joined her ingenuous admiration to theirs. but my mild and sensible Margaret fell upon mv neck, and weeping cried, " O ! father, it's no worth the doure thought that gars your brows sae gloom ;" while Joseph, the youngest of the flock, then in his twelfth year, brought the Bible and laid it on my knees.
I opened the book, and would have read a portion, but the passage which caught my eye «as, the beginning of the sixth chapter of Jeremiah, " O ye children of Benjamin, gather yourselves to flee out of the midst of Jerusalem, and blow the trumpet in Tekoa, and set up a sign of lire in Beth-hac -eerem : for evil appeareth out of the north, and great destruction.11 And I thought it was a voice calling; me to arm, and to raise the banner against the oppressor ; and thereupon I shut
VOL. III. D
74 RING AN GILHAIZE.
the book, and retiring to the fields, communed with myself for some time.
Having retained into the house, and sent Michael to my brother's to inquire how it had fared with him and his family, I at the same time directed Joseph to go to Irvine, and tell our friends there to help us with a mppry of blankets, for the Highlanders had taken away my horses and driven oil' my tat- tle, and we had no means of bringing any thing.
But Joseph was not long gone when Mi- chael came flying back from my brother's, and I sav< by his looks that something very dreadful had been committed, and said —
" Are they all in life?"
•• Aye, in life!" and, the tears rushing into his eyes, he exclaimed, " But O ! I wish that niv cousin Bell had been dead and buried !"
Bell Gilhaize, my brother's only daughter, was the lightest-hearted maiden in all our
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 75
parish. It had long been a pleasure both to her father and me to observe a mingling of affections between her and Michael, and the year following had been fixt for their mar- riage.
" The time of weeping, Michael,'1 said I, " is pa->t, and the time of warring will soon come. It is not in man to bear always ag- gression, nor can it be required of him ever to endure contumely.11
"Whathaa befallen Bell?" said his mo- ther to him; hut instead of making her any answer he uttered a dreadful sound, like the howl of madness, and hastily quitted the house.
Sarah Lochriff, who was a woman of a serene reason, and mild and gracious in her nature, looked at me with a silent sadness, that told all the anguish with which the horror that she guessed had darted into her soul ; and then, with an energy that I never saw in her before, folded her own two
76 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
daughters to her bosom, as if she was in terror for them, and bathed their necks with tears.
While we were in this state my brother himself came in. He was now a man well stricken in years, but of a hale appearance, and usually of an open and manly counte- nance. Nor on this occasion did he appear greatly altered ; but there was a fire in his eve, and a severity in his aspect, such as I had never seen before, yet withal a fortitude that showed how strong the self-possession wa>, which kept the tempest within him from breaking out in word or gesture.
" Ringan," said he, " we have met with a misfortune. It's the will of Providence, and we maun bear it. But surely in the anger that i- caused by provocation, our Creator tells us to resent. From this hour, all obligation, obedience, allegiance, all whatsoever that as a subject I did owe to Charles Stuart is at an end. I am his foe; and the Lord put
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 77
strength into my arm to revenge the ruin of my bairn V
There was in the utterance of these words a solemnity at first terrifying to hear; but his voice in the last clause of the sentence falter- ed, and he took off his bonnet and held it over his face, and wept bitterly.
I could make him no answer for some time ; but I took hold of his hand, and when he had a little mastered his grief, I said, " Brother, we are children of the same pa- rents, and the wrongs of one are the wrongs of both. But let us not be hasty."
He took the bonnet from his face, and look- ed at me sternly for a little while, and then he said —
" Ringan Gilhaize, till you have felt what I feel, you ne'er can know that the speed o' lightning is slow to the wishes and the will of revenge."
At that moment his daughter Bell was brought in, led by my son Michael. Her fa-
5
78 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
ther, at the sight of her, clasped his hands wildly above his head, and rushed out of the house. Mv wife went towards her, but stop- ped and fell back into my arms at the sight of her demented look. My daughters gazed, and held up their trembling hands.
" Speak to her,7" said Michael to his sis- ters; " she'll maybe heed you;1'' and he added, " Bell, it's Mary and Peggy," and (hopping her hand, he went to lead Mary to her, while she stood like a statue on the spot.
" Dear BeU," said I, as I moved myself gently from the arms of my afflicted wife, " come wi"1 me to the open air ;" and I took her by the hand which poor Michael had dropped, and led her out to the green, but still she looked the same demented creature.
Her father, who had by this time again overcome his distress, seeing us on the green, came towards us, while my wife and daugh- ters also came out ; but Michael could no longer endure the sight of the rifled rose that
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 79
he had cherished for the ornament of his bo- som, and he remained to hide his grief in the
house.
" Her mind's gone, Ringan," said my bro- ther, " and she'll ne'er be better in this world !" Nor was she ; but she lived many months after, and in all the time never shed a tear, nor breathed a sigh, nor spoke a word ; where she was led, she went ; where she was left, she stood. At last she became so weak that she could not stand; and one day, as I was sitting at her bedside, I observ- ed that she lay unusually still, and touching her hand, found that all her sorrows were over.
80 RING AN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. X.
From the day <>f the desolation of his daugh- ter, my brother seldom held any communion with me; but I observed thai with Michael he had much business, and though I asked no questions, I Deeded doI to be told that there \\a> a judgmenl and a doom in what they did. I was therefore fearful that some rash step would be taken at the burial of Hell ; for it was understood that all the neigh- bours far and near intended to he present to testify their pity for her fate. So I >.])oke to Mr Witherspoon concerning my fears, and by his exhortations the body was borne to the kirk-yard in a solemn and peaceable manner.
Bui jusl a-- thi' coffin was laid in the grave, and before a spadeful of earth was thrown,
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 81
a boy came running, crying, " Sharp's kilTt! — the apostate's dead T which made every one turn round and pause ; and while we were thus standing, a horseman came riding by, who confirmed the tidings, that a band of men whom his persecutions had made desperate, had executed justice on the apostate as he was travelling in his carriage with his daugh- ter on Magus-moor. "While the stranger was telling the news, the corpse lay in the grave unburied ; and, dreadful to tell ! when he had made an end of his tale, there was a shout of joy and exultation set up by all present, except hv Michael and my brother They stood unmoved, and I thought — do I them any wrong.- — that they looked disconsolate and disappointed.
But though the judgment on James Sharp was a cause of satisfaction to all covenanted hearts, many were not yet so torn by the persecution as entirely to applaud the deed. I shall not therefore enter upon the parti-
d2
82 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
culars of what was clone anent those who dealt his doom, for they were not of our neighbourhood.
The crime, however, of listening peacefully in the fields to the truths of the Gospel be- came, in the sight of the persecutors, every day more and more heinous, and they gave themselves up to the conscience-soothing tv- ranny of legal ordinances, as if the enact- ment and execution of bloody laws, contrary to those of God, and against the unoffending privileges of our nature, were not wickedness of as dark a stain as the murderer's use of his secret knife. Edict and proclamation against field-preachings and conventicles came follow- ing each other, and the latest was the fiercest and fellest of all which had preceded. But the cause of truth, and the right of communion with the Lord, was not to be given up : " It is not for glory* we said in the words of those brave Scottish barons that redeemed, with King Robert the Bruce, their native
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 83
land from the thraldom of the English Ed- ward, " nor is it for riches, neither is it for honour, but it is for liberty alone we contend, which no true man will lose but with his life ;" and therefore it was that we would not yield obedience to the tyranny, which was re- vived with new strength by the death of James Sharp, in revenge for his doom, but sought, in despite of decrees and statutes, to hear the Word where we believed it was best spoken.
The laws of God, which are above all human authority, require that we should worship him in truth and in holiness, and we resolved to do so to the uttermost, and pre- pared ourselves with arms to resist whoever might be sent to molest us in the performance of that the greatest duty. But in so exer- cising the divine right of resistance, we were not called upon to harm those whom we knew to be our adversaries. Belting ourselves for defence, not for war, we went singly to our
84 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
places of secret meeting in the glens and on the moors, and when the holy exercise was done, we returned to our homes as peacefully as we went thither.
.Many a time I have since thought, that surely in no other age or land was ever such a solemn celebration of the Sabbath as in those days. The very dancers with which we were environed exalted the devout heart; verily it was a grand Bight to Bee the fearli religious man moving from his house in the grej of the morning, with the Bible in his hand and his sword for a stall', walking to- wards the hills for many a weary mile, hoping the preacher would be there, and praying as he went, that there might be no molestation.
Often and often on those occasions has the Lord been pleased to shelter his worshippers from their persecutors, 1>\ covering them with the mantle of his tempest; and many a time at the dead of night, when the winds were soughing around, and the moon was bowling
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 85
through the clouds, we have stood on the heath of the hills, and the sound of our psalms has been mingled with the roaring of the gathering waters.
The calamities which drove us thus to worship in the wilderness, and amidst the storm, rose to their full tide on the baek of the death of the archapostate James Sharp; for all the .religious people in the realm were in a manner regarded by the government as participators in the method of his punishment. And Claverhouae, whom I have now to speak of, got that special commission <>n which he rode so wickedly, to put to the sword whom- soever he found with arms at any preaching in the fields; so that we had no choice in seeking to obtain the consolations of religion, which we then stood so much in nerd of. but to congregate in such numbers as would deter the soldiers from venturing to attack us. This it was which caused the second rising, and led to the fatal day of Bothwell-brigg,
86 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
whereof it is needful that I should particu- larly speak, not only on account of the great stress that was thereon laid by the persecu- tors, in making out of it a method of fiery ordeal to afflict the covenanted, but also be- cause it was the overflowing fountain-head of the deluge that made me desolate. And here- in, courteous reader, should aught of a fiercer feeling than belongs to the sacred sternness of truth and justice escape from my historical pen, thou wilt surely pardon the same, if there be any of the gracious ruth of Chris- tian gentleness in thy bosom ; for now I have to tell of things that have made the annals of the land as red as crimson, and filled my house with the blackness of ashes and univer- sal death.
For a long period there had been, from the causes and circumstances premised, sore diffi- culties in the assembling of congregations, and the sacrament of the Supper had not been dispensed in many parts of the shire of
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 87
Ayr from the time of the Highland host ; so that there was a great longing in the hearts of the covenanted to partake once again of that holy refreshment ; and shortly after the seed-time it began to be concerted, that early in the summer a day should be set apart, and a place fixt for the celebration of the same. About the time of the interment of my brother's desolated daughter, and the judgment of the death executed on James Sharp, it was settled that the moors of Lou- don-hill should be the place of meeting, and that the first Sabbath of June should be the day. But what ministers would be there was not settled; for who could tell which, in those times, would be spared from prison ?
It was, however, forethought and foreseen, that the assemblage of communicants would be very considerable; for in order that there might be the less risk of molestation, a wish that it should be so was put forth among us, to the end that the king's forces might swither to dis-
<SS RINOAN OILHAIZE.
perse us. Accordingly, with my disconsolate brother and son, I went to be present at that congregation^ and we carried our arms with us, a> we were then in the habit of doing on all occasions of public testimony by worship. In the meantime a rent had been made in the Covenant, partly by the over-zeal of cer- tain young preachers, who not feeling, as we did, that the dutv of presbyterians went no farther than defence and resistance, Btrove, with all the pith of an effectual eloquence, to exasperate the minds of their hearers into hostility against those in authority; ami it happened that several of those who had exe- cuted the judgment on James Sharp, seeing no hope of pardon for what they had done.
leagued themselves with this party, in the hope of thereby making head against their pursuers.
I have been the more strict in setting down these circumstantials, because in the bloody afterings of that meeting they were altogether
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 89
lost sight of; and also, because the implac- able rage with which Claverhouse persecuted the Covenantees has been extenuated by some discreet historians, on the plea of his being
ail honourable* officer deduced from his sol- dierly worth elsewhere; whereas the truth is, that his cruelties in the shire of Ayr, and other of our western parts, were less the fruit of his instructions, wide and severe as they were, than of his own mortified vanity and malignant revenge,
90 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XI.
It was in the cool of the evening, on Satur- day the last day of May, when my brother came over to my house, where, with Michael, I had prepared myself to go with him to Loudon-hill. Our intent was to walk that night to Kilmarnock, and abide till the morn- ing with our brother Jacobs widow, not hav- ing seen her for a long time.
We had in the course of that day heard something of the publication of " The De- claration and Testimony," which, through the vehemence of the preachers before spoken of, had been rashly counselled at Ruglen, the 29th of the month ; but there was no parti- culars, and what we did hear was like, as all such things are, greatly magnified beyond the truth. We, however, were grieved by
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 91
the tidings ; for we feared some cause of tribulation would be thereby engendered de- trimental to the religious purposes of our journey.
This sentiment pressing heavily on our hearts, we parted from my family with many misgiving's, and the bodements of further sorrows. But the outward expression of what we all felt was the less remarkable, on account of what so lately had before hap- pened in my brother's house. Nor indeed did I think at the time, that the foretaste of what was ordained so speedily to come to a head was at all so lively in his spirit, or that of my son, as it was in mine, till, in passing over the top of the Gowan-brae, he looked round on the lands of Quharist, and said —
•' I care nae, Ringan, if I ne'er come back ; for though we hae lang dwelt in affection together yon'er, thae that were most precious to me are now both aneath the sod,r' — allud- ing to his wife who had been several years
92 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
dead, — and poor Bell, that lovely rose which the ruthless spoiler had so trampled into the earth.
" I feel,11 said Michael, " as if I were going to a foreign land, there is sic a farewell sadness upon me.11
But we strove to overcome this, and walked leisurely on the high-road towards Kilmar- nock, trying to discourse of indifferent things ; and as the gloaming faded, and the Night be- gan to look forth, from her watch-tower in the heavens, with all her eyes of beautiful light, we communed of the friends that we trusted were in glory, and marvelled if it could be that they saw us after death, or ever revisited the persons and the scenes that they loved in life. Rebellion or treason, or any sense of thoughts and things that were not holy, had no portion in our conversation : we were going to celebrate the redemption of fallen man ; and we were mourning for friends no more ; our discourse was of eternal things,
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 9^
and the mysteries of the stars and the lights of that world which is above the firmament.
When we reached Kilmarnock we found that Jacob's widow had, with several other godly women, set out towards the place of meeting, to sojourn with a relation that night, in order that they might be the abler to gather the manna of the word in the morning. We therefore resolved not to halt there, but to go forward to the appointed place, and rest upon the spot. This accordingly doing, we came to the eastern side of Loudon-hill, the trysted place, shortly after the first scad of the dawn.
Many were there before us, both men and women and little children, and horses inter- mingled, some slumbering, and some com- muning with one another ; and as the morning brightened, it was a hallowed sight to behold from that rising ground the blameless per- secuted coming with sedate steps to worship their Maker on the mountain.
94 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
The Reverend Mr Thomas Douglas, who was to open the action, arrived about the rising of the sun, with several other minis- ters, and behind them four a^ed men be- longing to Strathaven bearing the elements.
A pious lady, whose name I never heard, owing to what ensued, spread with her own hands a damask tablecloth on the ground, and the bread and wine were placed upon it with more reverence than ever was in kirk.
Mr Douglas having mounted upon a rock nigh to where this was done, was about to give out the psalm, when we observed several country lads, that were stationed as watchers afar off, coming with great haste in; and they brought word, that Claverhouse and his dra- goons were coming to disperse us, bringing with them the Reverend Mr King, a preacher of the gospel at Hamilton, and others that they had made prisoners, tied with cords two and two.
The tidings for a moment caused panic
IUNGAN GILHAIZE. 95
and consternation ; but as the men were armed, and resolved to resist, it was thought, in consideration of the women and children, that we ought to go forward, and prevent the adversaries from advancing. Accordingly, to the number of forty horsemen, and maybe near to two hundred foot, we drew ourselves apart from the congregation, and marched to meet Claverhouse, thinking, perhaps, on seeing us so numerous, that he would not come on, — while Mr Douglas proceeded with the worship, the piety of none with him being abated by this grievous visitation.
Mr William Clelland, with Mr Hamilton, wrho had come with Mr Douglas, were our leaders, and Ave met Claverhouse on the moor of Drumclog.
The dragoons were the first to halt, and Claverhouse, having ordered his prisoners to be drawn aside, was the first who gave the word to fire. This was without any parley or request to know whether we came with
96 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
hostile intent or no. Clelland, on seeing the dragoons make ready, cried to us all to den ourselves among the heather ; by which fore- thought the shot flew harmless. Then we started up, and every one, with the best aim he could, fired at the dragoons as they were loading their carabines. Several men and horses were killed, and many wounded. Cla- verhouse seeing this, commanded his men to charge upon us; but the ground was rough; the heather deep, and the moss broken where peats had been dug, and the horses floun- dered, and several threw their riders, and fell themselves.
We had now loaded again, and the second fire was more deadly than the first. Our horsemen also seeing how the dragoons were scattered, fell in the confusion as it were man for man upon them. Claverhouse raged and commanded, but no one now could or would obey. In that extremity his horse was killed, and, being thrown down, I ran forward to
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 97
seize him, if I could, prisoner; but he still held his sword in his hand, and rising as I came up, used it manfully, and with one stroke almost hued my right arm from my shoulder. As he fled I attempted for a mo- ment to follow, but staggered and fell. He looked back as he escaped, and I cried — " Blood for blood ;" and it has been so, as I shall hereafter in the sequel relate.
When the day was won, we found we numbered among the slain on the side of the vanquished nearly twenty of the dragoons : on our side we lost but one man, John Mor- ton— a ripe saint ; but several were wounded ; and John Weir and William Daniel died of their wounds. Such was the day of Drumclog.
Being wounded, I was carried to a neigh- bouring farm, attended by my brother and son, and there put upon a cart and sent home to Quharist, as it was thought I would be best attended there. They then returned
VOL. III. e
98 RINGAN OILHAIZB.
to the rest of the host, who, seeing thein- selvefi thus brought into open war, resolved forthwith to proceed to Glasgow, and to raise again the banner of the Covenant.
But Claverhouse had fled thither, burning with the thought of being SO shorn in his nhli- tary pride by raw and undisciplined country- men, w horn, if we had been lard soldiers, may- be he would have honoured, hut being what we were, though our honour was the greater, he hated us with the deadly aversion that is otten of vanitv chastised ; for that it wm which incited him to ravage the West coun- try with such remorselessness, anil which, when our men wire next day repulsed at Glasgow with the loss of lives, made him hinder the removal of the bodies from the streets, till it was said the butchers1 dogs !><.•- Ljan to prey upon them.
But not to in>i>t on matters of hearsay, nor to dwell at anv greater length on those afflicting events, I must refer the courteous
RING AN GILHAIZE. 99
reader to the history of the times for what followed, it being enough for me to state here, that as soon as the news spread of the battle and the victory, the persecuted ran flocking in from all quarters, by which the rope of sand, that the Lord permitted Mon- mouth to break at Bothwell-brigg, was soon formed. My brother and my son were both there, and there niv gallant Michael lies. Mv brother, then verging on theescore, being among the prisoners, was, after sore suffer- ings in the (irey friars church-yard of Edin- burgh, sent on board a vessel as a bonds- man to the plantations in America. His wrongs, however, were happily soon over; for the ship in which he was embarked perished among the Orkney islands, and he, with two hundred other sufferers, received the crown of martyrdom from the waves.
O Charles Stuart, king of Scotland ! and thou, James Sharp! — false and cruel men
1
100 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
But ye are called to your account ; and what avails it now to the childless father to rail u|x>n your memory ?
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 101
. CHAP. XII.
Befoue proceeding farther at this present time with the doleful tale of my own suffer- ings, it is required of me, as an impartial his- torian, to note here a very singular example of the spirit of piety which reigned in the hearts of the Covenanters, especially as I shall have to show that such was the cruel and im- placable nature of the Persecution, that time had not its wonted influence to soften in any degree its i-igour. Thirteen years had passed from the time of the Pentland raid ; and surely the manner in which the country had suffered for that rising might, in so long a course of years, have subdued the animosity with which we were pursued ; especially, as during the Earl of Tweeddale's administration the bonds of peace had been accepted. But Lauderdale, now at the head of the councils, was rapacious
102 BINGAN (jiliiai/k.
for money ; and therefore all offences, if I may employ that court lv term, by which our endeavours to taste of the truth were desig- nated,— all old offences, as I was saying, wire renewed against us as recent crimes, and an innocent charity to the remains of those who had suffered for the Pentland raid ua> made a reason, after the battle of Both- well-briggg to revive the persecution of (nose who had been out in that affair.
The matter particularly referred to arose out of the following circumstances :
The number of honest and pious nun who were executed in different places, and who had their heads and their right hands with which they signed th>- nant at Lanerk
cut off, and placed on the gates of towns and over the doors of tolbooths, had been very great And it was very grievous, and a sore thing to the l'riend> and acquaintances of those martyrs, when they went to Glasgow, or Kil- marnock, or Irvine, or Ayr, on their farm-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 103
business, to tryst or market, to see the remains of persons, whom they so loved and respected in life, bleaching in the winds and the rains of Heaven. It was indeed a matter of great heart-sadness, to behold such animosity carried beyond the gra\ e; and few they were who could withstand the sight of the orphans that came thither, pointing out to one another their fa- thers*1 bones, and weeping as they did so, and vowing with an innocent indignation, that they would revenge their martyrdom.
Well do I remember the great sorrow that arose one market-day in Irvine, some five or six years after the Pentland raid, when Mrs M'Coul came, with her four weans and her aged gudemother, to look at the relics of her husband, who was martyred for his part in that rising. The bones were standing, with those of another martyr of that time, on a shelf which had been put up for the purpose, below the first wicket-hole in the steeple, just above the door. The two women were very
104 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
decent in their apparel, rather more so than the common country wives. The gudemo- ther, in particular, had a cast of gentility both in her look and garments ; and I have heard the cause of it expounded, from her having been the daughter of one of the He- formation preachers in the gospel-spreading epoch of John Knox. She had a crimson satin plaid over her head, and she wore a black silk apron and a grey camlet gown. With the one hand she held the plaid close to her neck, and the youngest child, a lassie of seven years or so, had hold of her by the fore-finger of the other.
Mrs M-('oul was more of a robust fabric, and she was without any plaid, soberly dress- ed in the weeds of a widow, with a clean cam- bric handkerchief very snodly prined over her breast. The children were likewise bein- ly apparelled, and the two sons were buirdly and brave laddies, the one about nine, and the other maybe eleven years old.
1
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 105
It would seem that this had been the first of their pilgrimages of sorrow ; for they stood some time in a row at the foot of the tolbooth stair, looking up at the remains, and wonder- ing, with tears in their eyes, which were those they had come to see.
Their appearance drew around them many on-lookers, both of the country-folk about the Cross and Inhabitants of the town; but every one respected their sorrow, and none ventur- ed to disturb them with any questions ; for all saw that they were kith or kin to the godly men who had testified to the truth and the Covenant in death.
It happened, however, that I had occasion to pass by, and some of the town's folk who recollected me, said whisperingly to one an- other, but loud enough to be heard, that I was one of the persecuted ; whereupon Mrs M'Coul turned round and said to me, with a constrained composure —
" Can ye tell me whilk o1 yon\s the head
e2
106 HIN<;.\N GILHAIZE.
and hand o1 John M'Coul, that was executed for the covenanting at Lanerk .-"
I knew the remains well, for they had been pointed out to me. and I had seen them yen, often, but really the Bight of the t w < > women and the fatherless bairns bo overcame me, that I was unable t<» answer.
•• ll"s tin- head and the hand beside it, that has but twa fingers left, <»n the Kirkgate end o1 the skilf '." replied a person in the crowd, whom I knew at once by his voice to he Willy Sutherland the hangman, although 1 had not
n him from the night of my evasion. And here let me not forget to set down the Chris- tian worth and constancy of that simple and godly creature, who. rather than be instru- mental in the guilty judgment by which John M'Coul and his fellow-sufferer were doomed to die, did himself almost endure martyrdom, and yet never swerved in his purpose, nor was abated in his integrity, in so much, that when questioned thereafter anent the same by the
RINGAN GILIIATZE. 107
Earl of Eglinton, ami his lordship, being mov- ed by the simplicity of his.piety, said, " Poor man, you did well in not doing what they would have had you to do.""
" My Lord,*1 replied Willy, " yon are speaking treason ! and yet you persecute to the uttermost, which show-, that you go againsl the light of your conscienc
" Do vo.i say so to me, after I kept you from being hanged ?" said his Lordship.
" Keej) me from being drowned, and I will still tell you the verity.'" The which honesty in thai poor man begat for him a compassion- ate regard that the dignities of many great and many noble in that time could never com- mand.
When the sorrowful M'Oouls had indulg- ed themselves in their melancholy contempla- tion, they went away, followed by the multi- tude with silence ami sympathy, till they had mounted upon the cart which they had brought with them into the town. But from that
108 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
time every one began to speak of the impiety of leaving the bones so wofully exposed ; and after the skirmish at Drumclog, where Robin M'Coul, the eldest of the two striplings above spoken of, happened to be, when Mr John Welsh, with the Carrick men that went to Bothwell-brigg, was senl into Glasgow to bury the heads and hands <>t' the martyrs there, Robin M'Coulcame with a party of his friends to Irvine, to bury his father's bones. I \sa^ in ; myself present at the interment, being, a-> I have narrated, confined to my bed }>\ reason of my wound. But I was told by the neighbours, that it was a very solemn and affecting scene. The grieved lad carried the relics of his father in a small box in his hands, Covered with a white towel ; and the godly in- habitants of tlu' town, young and old, and of all denominations, to the number of several hundreds, followed him to the grave where the body was lying; and Willv Sutherland, moved by a simple sorrow, was the last of all ; and he
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 109
walked, as I was told, alone, behind, with his bonnet in his hand ; for, from his calling, he counted himself not on an equality with other men. But it is time that I should return from this digression to the main account of my narrative.
110 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
I HAP. XIII. Being rounded, as I have rehearsed, at
Drumclog, and carried to my own house, Sarah Lochrig, while .she grieved with a mo- ther's grief for the loss of our first-born and the mournful fate of mj honesl brother, ad- vanced my cure more by her loving minis- trations i<> my aching mind, than by the medicaments that were applied to the bodily wound, in so much thai something like a dawn of comfort was vouchsafed to me.
Our parish was singularly allowed to remain unmolested when, after the woful day of Bothwell-brigg, Claverhouse came to ravage the .shire o( Ayr, and to take revenge for the discomfiture which he had suffered, in his en- deavour to disturb the worship and sacrament
RINOAN tilLHAIZE. Ill
at Loudon-hill. Still, however, at times clouds overcame my spirit ; and one night my daugh- ter Margaret had a remarkable dream, which taught ns to expect some particular visita- tion.
It was Burely a mysterious reservation for the greater calamity which ensued, that while the vial of wrath was pouring out around us, my house should have been allowed to remain so unmolested. Often indeed, when in our nightly worship I returned thank- for a blessing so wonderful in that time of general wo, has a Btrange fear fallen upon me, and I have trembled in thought, as if the thing for which I sent up the incense of my thanks to Heaven, was a device of the Enemy of man, to make me think myself more deserv- ing of favour than the thousands of covenant- ed
ed brethren who then, in Scotland, were drinking of the bitterness of the suffering But in proportion as I was then spared, the heavier afterwards was my trial.
112 EINGAN GILIIAIZE.
Among the prisoners taken at Bothwell- brigg were many persons from our parish and neighbourhood, who, after their unheard- of sufferings among the tombs and graves of tlie G rev friars church-yard at Edinburgh, were allowed to return home. Though in this there was a show of clemency, it was yet but a more subtle method of the tyranny to reach new victims. For those honest men were not long home till grievous circuit-courts were Bel agoing, to bring to trial not only all those who were at Bothwell, or approved of that rising, but likewise those who had been at the Pentland raid ; and the better to en- sure condemnation and punishment, sixteen persons were cited from every parish to bear witness as to who, among their neighbours, had been out at Bothwell, or had harbour- ed any of those who were there. The wieked curates made themselves, in this grievous matter, engines of espionage, by giving in the names of those, their parishion-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 113
ers, whom they knew could bear the best testimony.
Thus it was, that many who had escaped from the slaughter — from the horrors of the Greyfriars church-yard — and from the drown- ing in the Orkneys, — and, like myself, had resumed their quiet country labour, were marked out for destruction. For the witnesses cited to Ayr against us were persons who had been released from the Greyfriars church- yard, as I have said, and who, being honest men, could not, when put to their oaths, but bear witness to the truth of the matters charged against us. And nothing surely could better show the devilish spirit with which those in authority were at that time actuated, •nor the unchristian nature of the prelacy, than that the prisoners should thus have been set free to be made the accusers of their neieh- bours; and that the curates, men professing to be ministers of the gospel, should have been such fit instruments for such unheard-of
114- RINoAN 6ILHA1ZE.
machinations. But to hasten forward to the fate and issue of this self-consuming tyran- ny, I shall leave all generalities, and proceed
with the events of mv own case; and, in doing SO, I shall endeavour what is in me to in- scribe the particulars with a steady hand; for I dare Qo longer now trust myself with looking to the right or to the left of the field of my matter. I shall, however, try to nar- rate things just a> they happened, leaving the courteous reader to judge what passed at the time in the suffocating throbs wherewith my
heart was then affected.
It was the last day of February, of the year following Bothwell-brigg, that, in con- sequence of these subtle and wicked devices,
I was taken up. I had, from my wound, been in an ailing state for many months, and could then do little in the field ; but the weather for the season was mild, and I had walked out in the tranquillity of a sunny afternoon to give my son Joseph some in-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 115
structions in the method of ploughing; for, though he was then but in his thirteenth year, he was -a by-common stripling in ca- pacity and sense. He was indeed a goodly plant ; and I had hoped, in my old age, to have sat beneath the shelter of his branches; but the axe of the feller was untimely laid to the root, and it was too soon, with all the blossoms of the fairest promise, cast down into the dust But my task now is of ven- geance and justice, not of sorrowing, and I must more sternly grasp the iron pen.
A party of soldiers, who had been that afternoon sent out to bring in certain per- sons (among whom I was one) in a list ma- lignantly transmitted to the Archbishop of Glasgow, by Andrew Dornoch, the prclatic usurper of our minister's place, as I was leaving the held where my son was plough- ing, saw me from the road, and ordered me to halt till they came up, or they would fire at me.
HG RINGAN GILHAIZE.
It would have been unavailing of me, in
the state I then was, to have attempted to flee, BO I baited ; and, after some entreaty with the soldiers, got permission from them to have my horse and cart yoket, as I was not very well, and so to 1> carried to Ayr. And here I should note down that, although there iras in general a coarse spirit among the King's forces, yel in these men there was a touch of common humanity. This was no doubt partly owing to their having been some months quartered in Irvine, where they became naturally softened by the friendly spirit of the place. It was not, however, or- dained that men so merciful should be per- mitted to remain long there.
As it was an understood thing that the object of the trials to which the Covenanters were in this manner subjected, was chiefly to raise money and forfeitures for the rapacious Duke of Lauderdale, then in the rule and power of the council at Edinburgh, my being
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 117
carried away prisoner to Ayr awakened less grief and consternation in my family than might have been expected from the event. Through the humane permission of my guard, having a little time to confer with Sarah Loch- rig before going away, it was settled between us that she should gather together what money she could procure, either by loan, or by sell- ing our corn and cattle, in order to provide for the payment of the line that we counted would be laid upon us. I was then taken to the tolbooth of Ayr, where many other covenanted brethren were lying to await the proceedings of the circuit-court, which was to be opened by the Lord Kelburne from Glasgow, on the second day after I had been carried thither.
Among the prisoners were several who knew me well, and who condoled as Christians with me for the loss I had sustained at Both- well ; so, but for the denial of the fresh and heavenly air, and the freedom of the
118 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
fields, the time of our captivity might hare been a season of much solace : for they were all devout men, and the tolbooth, instead of resounding with the imprecations of malefac- tors, became melodious with the voice of Psalms and of holy communion, and the sweet intercourse of spirit^ that delighted in one another for the constancy with which they had borne their testimony.
When the Lord Kelburne arrived, on the first day that the court opened, I was sum- moned io respond to the offences laid to my charge, if any charge of offence it may be
called, wherein the purpose of the court wa- s( smingrj ;•> search out opinions that mi<dit serve as matter to justify the infliction of the lines, — the whole end and intent of those circuits not being to award justice, but to find the means of extorting money. In some respects, however, I was more mercifully dealt by than many of my fellow-sufferers ; but in order to show how, even in my case,
KINOAN GILHAIZE. 119
the laws were perverted, I will hero set down a brief record of my examination, or trial as it was called.
120 RiNGAN (ilLHAIZE.
CHAP. XIV.
The council-room was full of people when I was taken thither, and the Lord Kelburne, who sat at the head of the table, was abetted in the proceedings by Murray, an advocate from Edinburgh. They were sitting at a wide round table, within a fence which prevented the spectators from pressing in upon them. There were many papers and letters folded up in bundles lying before them, and a can- dle burning, and wax for sigillation. Besides Lord Kelburne and his counsellor, there were divers gentlemen seated at the table, and two clerks to make notations.
Lord Kelburne, in his appearance, was a mild-looking man, and for his years his hair was very hoary ; for though he was seemingly not passing fifty, it was in a manner quite
5
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 121
blanched. In speech he was moderate, in disposition indulgent, and verily towards me he acted in lus harsh duty with much gen- tleness.
But Murray had a doure aspect for his years, and there was a smile among his fea- tures not pleasant to behold, breeding rather distrust and dread, than winning confidence or affection, which are the natural fruit of a countenance rightly gladdened. He looked at me from aneath his brows as if I had been a malefactor, and turning to the Lord Kelburne, said —
" He has the true fanatical yellow look.1" This was a base observe ; for naturally I was of afresh complexion, but my long illness, and the close air of the prison, had made me pale.
After some more impertinencies of that sort, he then said —
" Ringan Gilhaize, you were at the battle of Bothwell-brifjfr.'"
VOL. III. F
122 RING AN GILHAIZE.
" I was not,"' still I.
" You do not mean to say so, surely p"
" I have said it,"" Mas niv answer.
Whereupon one of the clerks whispered to him that there were three «>}' the name in the list.
" O !"* cried he, " I crave your pardon, Ringan, then' are several persons of your name; ami though you wire not at BothweU yourself, maybe ye ken those of your name who were there, — Do you
" I did know two,*1 u;in niv calm answ " one was my brother, anil the other m\
BOth"
All present remained very silent as I made this answer; and the Lord Kelhurne bending forward, leant his cheek on his hand as he rested his elbow on the table, and looked very earnestly at me. Murray resumed —
" And pray now, Ringan, tell us what has become of the two rebels ':"
" Thev were covenanted Christians,11 said
RING AN GILHAIZE. 1&3
I ; " my son lies buried with those that were slain on that sore occasion.'1
" But your brother; he was of course younger than you ?'"
" No ; he was older."'
" Well, well, no matter as to that ; but where is he r*1
" I believe he is with his Maker ; but his body lies among the rocks at the bottom of the Orkney seas."'
The steadiness of the Lord Kclburne"* countenance saddened into the look of com- passion, and he said to Murray —
V There is no use in asking him any more questions about them, proceed with the ordi- nary interrogatories."
There was a murmur of satisfaction towards his Lordship at this; and Murray said —
" And so you say that those in the late re- bellion at Both well were not rebels ?"
" I said, sir, that my son and my brother were covenanted Christians."1"'
124 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
This I delivered with a firm voice, which seemed to produce some effect on the Lord Kelburne, who threw himself back in his chair, and crossing his arms over his breast, looked >till more eagerly towards me.
" Do you mean thru to deny,*1 said Mur- ray •• that the late- rebellion was do! a rebel- lion '••
•• It would be hard, sir, to say what it was; for the causes thereto leading,11 replied f, •• w ere provocations concerning things of God, and to those who were for that reason re- ligiously there, I do not think, in a ri^ht sense, it can be called rebellion. Those who were there for carnal motives, and I doubt not there were many Buch, I fancy evw v honest man may >a_v it was with them rebel- lion.11
•• I must dial more closely with him,*" said Murray to his LonKhip ; but his Lordship, before allowing him to put any more ques- tions, said himself to me —
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 125
"; But you know, to state the thing plainly, that the misguided people who were at Both- well, had bunded themselves against the laws of the realm, whether from religious or carnal motives is not the business we are lure to sift, that point is necessarily remitted to God and their consciences.''1
Murray added, " It is most unreasonable to suppose, that every subject is free to deter- mine of what is lawful to be obeyed. Tin thought is ridiculous. It would destroy the end of all laws which are for the advanta of communities, ami which speak the sense of the generality touching the matter and things to which they refer. "'
" My Lord/"' said I, addressing myself to Lord Kelburne, " it surely will ne'er hi' de- nied, that every subject is free to exercise his discretion with respek to his ain conduct ; and your Lordship kens vera weel, that it is the duty of subjects to know the laws of the land ; and your Lordship likewise knows, that God
126' RINwAN (.ILIIAIZH.
has given laws to all rulers as well as subjects,
and both may and ought to know His laws. Now if I, knowing both the laws of God and the laws of the land, find the one contrary to the other, undoubtedly God's laws oUght to
-
hae the preference in my obedient
His Lordship looked sdmewhat satisfied with this answer; but Murray said to him —
" I will pose him with this question. If presbyterian government were established, :i- it was in the year 1648, and some ministers were not free to eomply with it. ami a law were made that none should hear them out o" doors, would you judge it reasonable that siuh minist< i "8 or their people should he at liberty to act in contempt of that law."
And he looked mightily content with him- self for this sublety ; hut I said —
" Really, sir. I canna see a reason why hearkening to a preaching in the fields should be a greater guilt than doing the same thing in doors."
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 127
" If I were of your principles," said the advocate, " and thought in my conscience that the laws of the land were contrary to the laws of God, and that I could not conform to them, I would judge it niv duty rather to go out of the nation and live elsewhere, than disturb the peace of the land."
" That were to suppose two things," said I ; " first, that rulers may make laws con- trary to the laws of God, and that when such laws arc once made, they ought to be sub- mitted to. Hut I think, sir, that rulers being under the law of God act wickedly, and in rebellion to him, when they make enactments contrary to his declared will ; and surely it can ne'er be required that we should allow wickedness to be done."
" I am not sure," said Murray to his Lord- ship, " that I do right in continuing this ir- relevant conversation."
" I am interested in the honest mans de- fence," replied Lord Kelburne, " and as 'tis
128 RINGAN GILHAJZE.
in a matter of conscience, let us hear what makes it so.11
" Well then," resumed the advocate, t; what can you say to the barbarous murder of Arch- bishop Sharp? — You will not contend that murder is not contrary to the law of God P"
" I ne'er contended," said I, " that any sin was permitted by the law of God — far less murder, which is expressly forbidden in the Ten Commands."
•• Then ye acknowledge the murder of the Archbishop to have been murder r"
~ That's between those that did it and God."
" Ilooly, hooly, friend!" cried Murray; " that, Ringan, winna do ; was it or was it not murder P"
w- Can I tell, who was not there?"
" Then, to satisfy your conscience on that score. Ringan, I would ask you, if a gang of ruffians slay a defenceless man, do or do they not commit murder ?"
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 129
" I can easily answer that."
Lord Kelburne again bent eagerly forward, and rested his cheek again on his hand, plac- ing his elbow on tli^* table, while I con- tinued—
" A gang of ruffians coining in wantonness, or for plunder, upon a defenceless man, and putting him to death, there can be no doub< is murder ; but it has not yet been called murder to kill an enemy in battle; and there- fore, if the captain of a host go to war with- out arms, and thereby be defenceless, it can- not be said, that those of the adverse party, who may happen to slay him, do any mur- der."
" Do you mean to justify the manner of the death of the Archbishop ?"" exclaimed the advocate, starting back, and spreading out his arms in wonderment.
" 'Deed no, sir,11 replied I, a little nettled at the construction he would put upon what I said ; " but I will say, even here, what Sir
f 2
ISO RINGAN GILHAIZE.
Davie Lindsay o' the Mount said on the simi- lar event o1 Cardinal Beaton's death, —
" As for this Cardinal, I grant
He was the man we might well want ;
God will forgive it soon : l?ut of a truth, the sooth to say, Although the loon be well away,
The fact was foully dom
There was a rustle of gratification among all in the court as I said the rhyme, anil Lord Kellmrne smiled ; but Murray, somewhat out of humour, said —
" I fancy, my Lord, we must consider this as an admission that the lolling of the Arch- bishop was murder r"
" 1 fear," said his Lordship, " that neither of the two questions have been so directly put as to justify me to pronounce any decision, though I am willing to put the most favour- able construction on what has passed." And then his Lordship, looking to me, added —
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 131
u Do you consider the late rebellion, be- ing contrary to the King's authority, rebel- lion ?"
" Contrary to the King's right authority,"" replied I, " it was not rebellion, but con- trary to an authority, beyond the right, taken by him, despite the law of God, it was rebellion."'
" Wherefore, honest man,'1 rejoined his Lordship kindly, " would you make a dis- tinction that may bring harm on your own head ? Is not the King's authority instituted by law and prerogative, and knowing that, cannot ve say, that those who rise in arms against it are rebels ?"
" My Lord," said I, " you have my an- swer ; for in truth and in conscience I can give none other."
There was a pause for a short space, and one of the clerks looking to Lord Kelburne, his Lordship said, with a plain reluctance, " It must even be so ; write down that he is
132 BINGAN GILHAIZE.
not clear the late rebellion should be called a bellioD ;" and casting Ins eves entreatingry towards me, he added — " But I think you acknowledge that the assassination of Arch- I ishop Sharp was a murder P"
•• My Lord," said I, " vour questions are propounded as t'^t-. and therefore, as an honed man, 1 cannot suffer that mv answ< -lioukl be scant, lest I might be thought to
iver in faith and was backward in mj b tummy. No, my Lord. I will not call the lulling of Sharp murder; for. on my con- science. I do verily think he deserved the death : First, because of his apoetacy ; se- cond, because of the laws of which he WM the instigator, whereby the laws <>f (led have been contravened; and, third, lor the v that those laws have brought upon the land, the which stirred the hearts of the people against him. Above all, I think his death was no murder, because he was so strong in his legalities, that he could not be brought to
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 133
punishment by those to whom he hail caused the greatest wrong (" and I thought, in say- ing these words, of my brother's desolated daughter — of* his own sad death in the stormy seas of the Orkneys — and of my brave and gallant Michael, that was lying in his shroud- less grave in the cold clay of Bothwell.
Lord Kelburne was troubled at mv answer, and was about to remonstrate ; but seeing the tear start into my eye as those things came into my mind, he said nothing, but nodding to the clerk, he bade him write down that I would not acknowledge the killing of the- Archbishop a murder. He then rose and adjourned the court, remanding me to prison, saving, that he would send me word what would be the extent of my punishment.
134 RINK AN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XV.
The same night it was intimated to me that I was fined in five hundred marks, and thai bonds were required to be given for the pay- ment ; upon the granting of which, in con- sideration of mv ill health, the Lord Kelburne had consented I should be set IV
This was, in many respects, a more lenient sentence than I had expected ; and in the hope that perhaps Sarah Lochrig might have been able to provide the money, so as to ren- der the granting of the bonds and the procur- ing of cautioners unnecessary, I sent over a man on horseback to tell her the news; and the man in returning brought my son Joseph behind him, si nt by his mother to urge me to give the bonds at once, as she had not been able to raise so much money ; and the more
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 135
to incite me, if there had been need for in- citement, she had willed Joseph to tell me that a party of Claverhouse's dragoons had been quartered on the house that morning, to live there till the fine was paid.
Of the character of those freebooters I needed no certificate. They had filled every other place wherever they had been quarter- ed with shame and never-ceasing sorrow, and therefore I was indeed roused to hear that my defenceless daughters were in their power. So I lost no time in sending my son to entreat two of his mother's relations, who were bein merchants in Avr, to join toe in the bond, — a thing which they did in the most compassion- ate manner ; — and, the better to expedite the business, I got it to be permitted by the Lord Kelburne that the bonds should be sent the same day to Irvine, where I hoped to be able next morning to discharge them. All this was happily concerted and brought to a pleasant issue before sunset ; — at which time
136 RINGAN OILHAIZE.
I was discharged from the tolbooth, carrying with me many pious wishes from those who were there, and who had not been so gently dealt by.
It was my intent to have proceeded home the same night, but my son was very tired with
the many errands lie had run that day, and by In- long ride in the morning; moreover, I was myself in aeed <>f repose, for my anxiety had broughl en a disturbance in my blood, and my limbs shook, and I was altogether unable to undertake any journey. I WW therefore too easily entreated of Archibald Lochrig, my wile's cousin, and one of my cautioners, to stop in his house that evening. But next morning, being much refreshed with a pleasant Bleep and the fallacious cheering of happy dreams, I left Ayr, with my son, before the break of day, and we travelled with light feet, for our hearts were lifted up with hope.
Though my youth was long past, and many
RINGAN G1LHAIZE. 137
tilings had happened to sadden my spirit, I yet felt on that occasion an unaccountable sense of kindliness and joy. The flame of life was as it were renewed, and brightened in the pure and breezy air of the morning, and a bounding gladness rose in my bosom as my eye expatiated around in the freedom of the spaeious fields. On the kit-hand the living sea seemed as if the pulses of its moving waters were in unison with the throbbing* of my spirit ; and, like joeund maidens dis- porting themselves in the flowing tide, the gentle waves, lifting their heads, and spread- ing out their arms ami raising their white bosoms to the rising sun, came as it were happily to the smooth sands of the spark- ling shore. The grace of enjoyment bright- ened and blithened all things. There was a cheerfulness in the songs of the little birds that enchanted the young heart of my bloom- ing boy to break forth into singing, and his carol was gayer than the melody of the lark.
138 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
But that morning was fhe Inst time that either of us could ever after know pleasure any more in this world.
Eager to be home, and that I might share with Sarah Lochrig and our children the joy of thankfulness for my deliverance, I had resolved to call, in passing through Irvine, at the clerk's chamber, t<> inquire if the bonds had been senl from Ayr, that my cautioners might be ;is soon as possible dis- charged. But we had been so early a-foot that we reached the town while the inhabi- tants were vet all asleep, so that we thought it would he as well to go straight home; and accordingly we passed down the gait and through the town-end port without seeing any person in the street, save only the town- herd, as he was going with his horn to sound for the cows to be sent out to go with him to the moor.
The sight of a town in the peacefulness of the morning slumbers, and of a simple man
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 139
going forth to lead the quiet cattle to pasture, filled my mind with softer thoughts than I had long known, and I said to my son —
" Surely those who would molest the£eace of the poor hae ne'er rightly tasted the bless- ing of beholding the confidence with which they trust themselves in the watches of the night and amidst the perils of their barren lot." Ami I felt my heart thaw again into charity with all men, and I was thankful for the delight.
As I was thus tasting again the luxury of gentle thoughts, a band of five dragoons came along the road, and Joseph said to me that thev were the same who had been quartered m our house. I looked at them as they passed by, but they turned their heads aside.
" I wonder," said my son, " that they did na speak to me : I thought they had a black look."
" No doubt, Joseph,1' was my answer, " the men are no lost to a" sense of shame.
1 10 RINGAN GLLHAIZE.
They canna but be rebuked at the sight of a man that, maybe against their will, poor feL, lows, they were sent to oppres
" I dinna like- them the day, father, they're unco like ill-doers,r said the thoughtful and observing Btripling.
15ut my spirit was at the time full of good- will towards all men, and 1 reasoned with him
tinst giving way to unkind thoughts, < pounding, to the beat of my ability, the na- ture of gospel-charity, and the heavenlyni of good-will, saying t<> him —
" The nature of charity 's like the light o' the sun, by which all tl" re cherished.
It i> the brightness of the soul, and the glo- rious quality which proves our celestial de- scent. Our other feelings are commoD to a' creatures, hut the feeling of charity is divine. It's the only thing in which man partakes of the nature of God."
Discoursing in this scriptural manner, we readied the Gowan-brae. My heart beat high
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 141
with gladness. My son bounded forward to tell his mother and sisters of ray coming'. On gaining the brow of the hill he leapt from the ground with a frantic cry and clasped his hands. 1 ran towards him — but I remember no more, — though at times something crosses my mind, and I have wild visions of roofless walls, and a crowd of weeping women and silent men digging among ashes, and a beau- tiful body, all dropping wet, brought on a deal from the mill-dam, and of men, as it was carried by, seizing me by the anus and tying mv hands, — and then I fancy myself in a house fastened to a chair; — and sometimes I think I was lifted out and placed to beek in the sun and to taste the fresh air. But what ^hese things import I dare only guess, for no one has ever told me what became of my be- nign Sarah Loch rig and our two blooming daughters ; — all is phantasma that I recollect of the day of my return home. I said my soul was iron, and my heart converted into
142 RINGAN 6ILHAIZC.
stone. 0 that they were indeed so i But sor- rowing is a vain thing, and my task must not stand still.
A\ hen I li-ft Ayr the leaves were green, and the fields gay, and the water* glad ; and when the yellow leaf rustled on the ground,
and the waters Fere driunlv. and the nwta
roaring, I \wis somehow, 1 know not by what means, in the kirk-yard, and a film fell from the eyes <>f my reason, and I looked around, and my little- boy bad bold of ni" 1>\ the hand, and 1 said to him, "Joseph, what's von sac big and green in our lair?" and he gaged in my face, and the tears came into his eyes, and la- replied — 4> Father, they are a" in the same grave,*
I took my hand out of his; — I walked slow- ly to the green tomh ; — I knelt down, and I caused my sun to kneel beside me, and I vowed enmity for ever against Charles Stuart and all of his line ; and I prayed, in the word of the Psalmist, that when he was judged be
3
RING AN GILHAIZE. 143
might be condemned. Then we rose ; but mv son said to me —
" Father, Lcanna wish his condemnation; but I'll fight by your side till we have hark him down from his bloody throne.1'
And I felt that I had forgotten I was a Christian, and I again kiult down and prayed, but it was for the sin I had done in the ven- geance of the latter clause. kk Nevertheless, Lord,11 1 then cried, "as thou thyself didst take the sceptre from Saul, and gave the crown to David, make me an instrument to work out the purposes of thv dreadful justice, which in time will come to be."
Then I rose again, and went towards the place where my home had been ; but when I saw the ruins I ran back to the kirk-yard, and threw myself on the grave, and cried to the earth to open and receive me.
But the Lord had heard my prayer, and while I lay there he sent down his consoling angel, and the whirlwind of my spirit was
144 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
calmed, and I remembered the promise of mv son to figlit by mv side, and I rose to pre- pare myself for the warfare.
While I was lying on the ground several of the neighbours had heard my wild cries, and came into the kirk-yard ; but by that time the course of the tempest had been staid, and they stood apart with mv son, who fold them I was come again to myself, and they thought they ought not to disturb me; when, howeverj they saw me rise, they drew near and spoke kindly to me, and Zathariah Smvlie invited me to go back with him to his house ; for it was with him that I had been sheltered during the phrenzy. But I said —
" No : I will neither taste meat nor drink, nor seek to rest myself, till I have again a sword." And I entreated him to give me a little money, that, with my son, we might go into Irvine and provide ourselves with weapons.
The worthy man looked very sorrowful to
hear me so speak, and some of the others, that
1
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 145
were standing by, began to reason with me, and to represent the peril of any enterprise at that time. But I pointed to the grave, and said —
" Friens, do you ken what's in yon place, and do ye counsel me to peace p'1 At which words they turned aside ami shook their heads ; and Zachariah Smylie went and brought me a purse of money, which having put into my bosom, I took my son by the hand, and bidding them all farewell, we walk- ed to the town silently together, and I thought of my brother's words in his grief, that the speed of lightning was slow to the wishes of revenue.
VOL. III.
146 RING AN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. X\ I
On arriving in Irvine, we went to the shop of Archibald Macrusty, a dealer in iron imple- ments, and I bought from him two swords
without hilts, which he sold, wrapt in straw- rope, as scythe-blades, — a method of disguise that the ironmongers were obligated to hav<
recourse to at that time, on account of tin rch nou and then made for weapons by the soldiers, ever from the time that Claver- hous( came to disarm the people; and when I had bought the two blades we went to Bailie Girvan's shop, which was a nest of a' things, and bought two hilts, without any questions being asked ; for the bailie was a discreet man, with a warm heart to the Co- venant, and not selling whole swords, but only hilts and hefts, it could not be im-
RING AN GILHAIZE. 147
puted to him that he was guilty of selling arms to suspected persons.
Being thus provided with two swords, we went into James Glassop's public, where, having partaken of some refreshment, we remained solemnly sitting by ourselves till towards the gloaming, when, recollecting that it would be a comfort to us in the halts of our undertaking, I sent out my son to buy a Bible, and while he was absent I fell asleep.
On awaking from my slumber I felt greatly composed and refreshed. I reflected on the events of the day, and the terrible truths that had broken in upon me, and I was not moved with the same stings of des- peration that, on my coming to myself, had shot like fire through my brain; so I began to consider of the purpose whereon I Avas bowne, and that I had formed no plan, nor settled towards what airt I should direct my steps. But I was not the less determined
1 HI RINGAN GILHAIZE.
to proceed, and I said to my son, who was sitting very thoughtful with the IJook lying on the table before him —
" Open the Bible, and see what the Lord instructs us to do at this tune.'1 And Jit- opened it, and the first words he Baw and
ad were those of the nineteenth verse of the forty-eighth chapter of the Prophet Jere- miah,—
• () inhabitant <>f Aroer, stand by the waj
and espy ; ask him that fin th. and her that escapeth, and Bay, What is dour.-"
So I rose, and bidding my son close the Book, and bring it with him, we went out, with our sword-hilts, and the blades still with the straw-rope about them, in our hands, into the street together, where we had not long been when a soldier on horseback passed us in great haste ; and many persons spoke to him as he rode by, inquiring what new > he- had brought ; but he' was in trouble of mind, and heeded them not till he- reached the door
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 14-0
of the house where the captain of the soldiers then in Irvine was abiding.
When lie* had gone into the house and delivered his message, he returned to the street, where by that time a multitude, among which we were, had assembled, and he told to the many, who inquired as it were with one voice, — That Mr Cargill, and a numerous party of the Cameromans, had passed that afternoon through Galston, and it was thought they meditated some disturbance on the skirts of Kilmarnock, which made the commander of the King's forces in that town send for aiil to the captain of those then in Irvine.
As soon as I heard the news, I resolved to 2"o that night to Kilmarnock, and abide with tmy sister-in-law, the widow of my brother Jacob, by whose instrumentality I thought we might hear where the Cameromans then were. For, although I approved not of their separation from the general presbyterian kirk of Scotland, nor was altogether content witli
150 RJNGAN GILHAIZE.
their declaration published at Sanquhar, there was yel one clause which, to my spirit, impo- verished oi* all hope, was as food and raiment ; and that there may be no perversion con- cerning the same in after times, I shall here set down tin- words of the clause, and the words are these : —
•• Although we he for government and go- vernors such as the "Word of God and our
Covenant allows, vet we for ourselves, and all that will adhere to us, do, by thir presents, disown Charles Stuart, that has been reign- ing (or rather tyrannizing as we may say) < a the throne of Britain these years bygone, having any right or title to. or interest in, the crown of Scotland for government, he having forfeited the Bame several years since by his perjury and breach of Covenant both to God and His kirk ;" and farther, I did ap- prove of those passages wherein it was de- clared, that he u should have been denuded o\' being king, ruler, or magistrate, or having
RINiiAN GILHAIZE. lol
any power to act or to be obeyed as such :" also, tv we being under the standard of our Lord Jesus Christ, Captain of Salvation, do declare a war with such a tyrant and usurper, and all the men of his practices, as enemies to our Lord."
Accordingly, on hearing that the excom- municated and suffering society of the Ca- meronians were so near, I resolved, on re- ceiving the soldier's information, and on ac- count of that recited clause of the Sanquhar declaration, to league myself with them, and to fight in their avenging battles; for, like me, they had endured irremediable wrongs, injustice, and oppressions, from the persecu- tors, and for that cause had, like me, abjured . the doomed and papistical race of the tyran- nical Stuarts. With my son, therefore, I went toward Kilmarnock, in the hope and with the intent expressed ; and though the road was five long miles, and though I had not spoken more to him all day, nor for days,
RINOAM GILHAIZE.
and weeks, and months before, than I have down herein, we yet continued to travel in silence.
The night was bleak, and the wind easterly, but the road was dry. and my thoughts were eager; and we hastened onward, and reached tin.' widow's door, without the interchange of a word in all the way.
•• Whs do ye want .-" said my son, " for
•body hae lived here since the death of aunty."'
I was smote- upon the heart, by these few words, ;js it were with a stone; for it had not come into my mind to think of inquiring how long the eclipse of my reason had lasted, nor of what had happened among our friends in the interim. This shock, however, had a lutarv effect in staying the haste which was still in my thoughts, and I conversed with my son more collectedly than I could have
a- before it, and he told me of manvthii very doleful to hear, but I was thankful to
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 153
learn, that the end of my brother's widow- had been in peace, and not caused by any of those jrrievous unchances which darkened the latter days of so many of the pious in that epoch of the great displeasure.
lint the disappointment of finding that Death had barred her door against as, made it needful to seek a resting-place in some public, and as it was not prudent to earn, our blades ami hilt> into any Mich place of promiscuous resort, we went up the town, and hid them by the star-light in a field at a
dyke-side, and then returning as wayfarer-, we entered a public, and bopoke a bed for the night.
While we were sitting in that house by the kitchen fire, I bethought me of the Bible which my son had in his hand, and told him that it would do us good if he would read a chapter; but just as he was beginning, the mistress said —
" Sirs, dinna expose yoursels ; for w ha
g 2
1"'1 UNBAN (ilLIJ.vi
kens but the enemy may come in upon von. Its an unco dung now-a-days to be seen reading the Bible in a change-house*71
So, being tlms admonished, I bade my son
pill away the Book ; and we retired from the
fireside, and sal by miracle in the shadow of a corner: and well it was for us that we did
SO, and a providential thing that the worthy woman had been moved to rive us the ad-
monition : for we were not many minutes within the mirk and obscurity into which we had removed, when two dragoons, who had been Bkirring the country, like blood-hounds, in pursuit of Mr Cargill, came in and sat themselves down 1>\ the fire. Being soreU
tired with their day's hard riding, tin \ were
wroth and blasphemous against all the Co- venanters for the trouble they gave them;
and I thought when I heard them venting their bitterness, that they spoke as with the voice i >f the persecutors that were the true cause of the grievances whereof they com-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 155
plained ; for no doubt it was a hateful thing to persons dressed in authority not to get their own way, yet I could not but wonder how it never^ came into the minds of such persons, that if they had not trodden upon the worm it would never have turned. As for the Cameronianfi they were at war with the house of Stuart, and having disowned King Charles, it was a thing to be looked for, that all of his sect and side would be their consistent enemies. So I was none trou- bled by what the soldiers said of them, but my spirit was chafed into the quick to hear the remorselessness of their enmity against all the Covenanters and presbvterians, re- specting whom they swore with the hoarse- ness of revenge, wishing in such a frightful manner the whole of us in the depths of per-
w
dition, that I could no longer hear them with- out rebuking their cruel hatred and most foul impiety-
156 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
C HAP. XVII.
'• What gars you, young man," said I to the fiercest of the two dragoons, an Englisher, 1,1 what gars you in that dreadful manner hate and blaspheme honest men, who would, if they were permitted, dwell in peace with all mankind r"
" Permitted !'" cried he, turning round and placing his chair between me and the door, kt and who does not permit them ? Let them seek the way to heaven according to law, and no one will trouble them.'1
•• The law. Tin thinking,*1 replied I very mildly, "is mair likely to direct them to an- other place"
k' Here's a fellow,' cried the soldier, riot- ously laughing to his companion, " that calls the King's proclamation the devil's finger-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 157
post. I say, friend, come a little nearer the light. Is your name Cargill ?"
" No,11 replied I ; and the light of the fire
then happening to shine bright in his face,
my son laid his trembling hand on mine, and
whispered to me with a faltering tongue —
" O ! it's one of the villains that burnt our
house, and '
What more he added I know not, for at the word I leapt from my seat, and rushed upon the soldier. His companion flew in be- tween us; but the moment that the criminal saw my son, who also sprung forward, he ut- tered a fearful howl of horror, and darted out of the house.
The other soldier was surprised, but col- lected ; and shutting the door, to prevent us from pursuing or escaping, said — " What the devil's this r" " That's my father," said my son boldly, " Ringan Gilhaize of Quharist.11
The dragoon looked at me for a moment,
158 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
with concern in his countenance, and then re- plied, " I have heard of your name, but I was not of the party. It was a damned black job. But sit down, Ecclesfield will not be back. He has ever since of a night been afraid of ghosts, and he's off' as if he had seen one. So don't disturb yourself, but be cool.1'
I made no answer, nor could I ; but I re- turned and sat down in the corner where we had been sitting, and my son, at the same time, took his place beside me, laying his hand on mine : and I heard his heart beating, but he too said not a word.
It happened that none of the people be- longing to the house were present at the up- roar ; but hearing the noise, the mistress and the gudeman came rushing ben. The soldier, who still stood calmly with his back to the door, nodded to them to come towards him, which they did, and he began to tell them something in a whisper. The landlord held up his hands and shook his head, and the mis-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 159
tress cried, with tears in her eyes, " No won- der ! no wonder !"
" Had ye no better gang out and see for Ecclesfield ?" .said the landlord, with a signi- ficant look to the soldier.
The young man cast his eyes down, and seemed thoughtful.
" I may be blamed,11 said he.
" Gang but the house, gude wife, and bring the gardivine,11 resumed the gudeman ; and I saw him touch her on the arm, and she im- mediately went again into the room whence they had issued. " Come into the fire, Jack Windsor, and sit down,11 continued he ; and the soldier, with some reluctance, quitted the door, and took his seat between me and it, where Ecclesfield had been sitting.
" Ye ken, Jack,11 he resumed when they were seated, " that unless there are two of you present, ye canna put any man to the test, so that every body who has not been tested is free to go wheresoever it pleasures himsel.11
160 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
The dragoon looked compassionately to- ward- me; and the mistress coming in at the time with a case-bottle under lur arm, and a
en Dutch dram-glass in her hand, -he fill- ed it with brandy, and gave it to her husband. •• Here's to you. Jack Windsor," said the
landlord, as he put the glass to his lips,
•• and I wish a' the English in England were orderly and good-hearted a- yoursel, Jack Windsor.*1
He then held the ulasv to the mi ind
she made it a lippy.
" 1 lae. Jack," said the landlord, " Tin -ure. aft« your hard travail the dav. ve*ll no he the waur of a dram.*'
•• ( !urs< the liquor," exclaimed the dragoon,
" Tin not to he bribed by a drain.*'
•■ Nay," cried the landlord. '< Glide forbid that I should he a htih^r,"" still holding the glass towards the soldier, who sat in a thought- ful posture, plainly Bwithering.
•• That fellow Ecclesfield,r said he. a- it
RIN(JAN GILHAIZE.
1C1
wrere to himself, 6i the game's up with him in this world."
,k Ami in the next too, Jack Windsor, it' he dors ua repent," replied the landlord; and the dragoon put forth his hand, and taking tht- glass, drank off the brandy.
•• It's a damned hard service ihis here in Scotland,'1 s;ud Windsor, holding the empty glass in his hand.
"'Deed is't Jack," said the landlord, " and it canna be a pleasant thing to a warm-heart- ed lad like you, Jact Windsor, to be rava ing poor country folk, only because they hae gotten a bee in their bonnets about prelacj
■• Damn prelacy, says 1," exclaimed the drant x >n.
" Whisht, whisht. Jack," said the land- lord ; " but when a man's sae Bcomn&ht as ye maun be the night alter your skirring, a word o" vexation canna be a great taut. Gudewife, fill Jack's glass again. Ye'll be a1 the bet'er o't, Jack ;" and he took the gl
102 BINGAN GILHAIZE.
from the dragoon's hand and held it to his wife, who again filled it to the flowing eye.
" I should think," said the dragoon, " that Eeclesfield cannot be far off. He ought not to have run away till we had tested the strangers.r
" Ah ! Jack Windsor," replied the land- lord, holding out the glass to him, '• that's easy for you, an honesl lad wi1 a clear con- science, to Bay, hut think o' what Eeclesfield was art and part in. Ye may thank your stars, Jack, that ye hae ne'er been guilty o1 the foul things that he's wyted wi'. Are your father and mother living, Jack Windsor?"
" I hope so," said the dragoon, " but the old man Mas a little so so when I last heard of -cm."
" Aye, Jack," replied the landlord, " auld folks are failing subjects. Ye hae some brothers and sisters nae doubt ? They maun be weel- looked an they're ony thing like you, Jack."
" I have but one sister," replied the dra-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 163
goon, " and there's not a gooder girl in Eng- land, nor a lady in it that has the bloom of Sally Windsor."
" Ye're braw folk, you Englishers, and ye're happy folk, whilk is far better,'1 said the landlord, presenting the second glass, which Jack drank off at once, and returned to the mistress, signifying with his hand that he wanted no more ; upon which she retired with the gardivine, while the landlord continued, " it's weel for you in the south yonder, Jack, that your prelates do not harass honest folk."
" We have no prelates in England, thank God," said the dragoon ; " we wouldn't have 'em, our parsons are other sort o' things.'11
" I thought ye had an host o' bishops, Jack,11 said the landlord.
" True, and good fellows some on "em are ; but though prelates be bishops, bishops aVt prelates, which makes a difference.11
" And a blessed difference it is ; for how would ve like to hear of your father's house
164 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
being burnt and him in prison, and your bonny innocent sister? — Eh ! isnae that Ecclesfield's foot clampering wi1 his spurs at the door?*'
The dragoon listened again, and looked thoughtful for a little time, and turned his eyes hastily towards the corner where we were sitting,
The landlord eyed him anxiously.
" Yes," cried the poor fellow, starting from
his seat, and striking his closed right hand sharply into hi> lift ; " yes, I ought and I
will ;" adding calmly to the landlord, " con- found Ecclesfield, where the devil is he gone? I'll go see;" and he instantly went out.
The moment he had left the kitchen, the landlord rose and said to us, " Flee, flee, and quit this dangerous town !"
Whereupon we rose hastily, and my son lifting the Bible, which lie had laid in the darkness of the corner, we instanter left the house, and, notwithstanding the speed that was in our steps as we hurried up the street,
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 165
I had a glimpse of the compassionate soldier standing at the corner of the house when we ran by.
Thus, in a very extraordinary manner, was the dreadful wo that had befallen me and mine most wonderfully made a mean, through the conscience of Ecclesfield, to effectuate our escape
166 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XVIII.
On Leaving the public we went straight to the place where our blades and belts lay, and took them up, and proceeded in an easterly direction. Hut I soon found that I was no longer the man I had once been ; suffering .md the fever of my frenzy had impaired my strength, and tin weight of four and fifty years was on my back; so that I began to weary for a place of resl for the night, and I looked often around to discover the star of any window ; but all was dark, and the bleak easterly wind searched my very bones ; even my son, whose sturdy health and youth v bkxxi made him abler to thole the night-air, complained of the nipping cold.
Many a time yet, when I remember that night, do I think with wonder and reverence of
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 167
our condition. An infirm grey-haired man, with a deranged head and a broken heart, go- ing forth amidst the winter's wind, with a little boy, not passing thirteen years of age, to pull down from his throne the guarded King of three mighty kingdoms, — and we did it, — such was the doom of avenging justice, and such the pleasure of Heaven. But let me proceed to rehearse the trials I was required to undergo before the accomplishment of that high predestination.
Weary, as I have said, very cold and dis- consolate, we walked hirpling together for some time ; at last we heard the rumbling of wheels before us, and my son running for- ward came back and told me it was a car- rier. I hastened on, and with a great satis- faction found it was Robin Brown, the Ayr and Kilmarnock carrier. I had known him well for many years, and surely it was a pro- vidential thing that we met him in our distress, for he was the brother of a godly man, on
168 RtNGAN GILHAIZE.
whoso head, while his family were around him, Claverhouse, with his own bloody ham placed the glorious diadem of martyrdom.
lie had been told what had befallen me and mine, and was greatly amazed to hear my voice, and that I was again come to my- self; and he helped both my son and me into the car! ; and, as he walked b\ the wheel, he told me of many things which had happened during my eclipse, and of the Ireadful executions at Edinburgh of the prisoners taken at Airsmoss, and how that papist James Stuart, Duke of York, the King's brothel, was placed at the head of the Scottish councils, and was then rioting in the delights of cruelty, with the use of the torture and the thumbikins upon prison- ers suspected, or accused of being honest to their vows and their religious profession. But mv mind was unsettled, and his tale of cakmitv passed over it like the east wind that blew that night so freezingly, cruel to
2
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 169
the sense at the time, but of which the mor- row showed no memorial.
I said nothing to Robin Brown of what my intent was, but that I was on my way to join the Cameronians, if I knew where they might be found ; and he informed me, that after [the raid of Airsmoss they had scatter- ed themselves into the South country, where, as Claverhouse had the chief command, the number of their friends was likely to be daily increased, by the natural issue of his cruel- tics, and that vindictive exasperation, which was a passion and an affection of his mind for the discomfiture he had met with at Drum- closr.
" But,11 said the worthy man, " I hope, Ringan Gilhaize, ye'll yet consider the step before ye tak it. Ye're no at this time in a condition o1 health to warsle wi1 hardship, and your laddie there's owre young to be o1 onv fek in the way o* war ; for ye ken the Cam- eronians hae declarx war against the King,
VOL. III. h
170 RINOAN (JILHAIZK.
and, being few and far apart, they're hunted down in a1 places."
" If I canna fighl wi1 men," replied my brave stripling, u. I can help my father; but I'm no fear"t : David was but a herd laddie, maybe nae aulder nor bigger than me, when be felTt the muckle Philistine w? a Btaw
I made no answer myself to Robin Brown's ■emonatrance, because my resolution was gird-
ed a-- it were with a girof brass and adamant,
and, therefore, to reason more of farther con- cerning aught but of the means to achieve my purpose, was ;i thing I could not abide. Only I said to him, that being weary, and not in my wonted health, I would try to compose myself to sleep, and he would waken rae when be thought lit, for that I would not go with him to Glasgow, but shape our way towards the South country. So I stretehed myself out, and my dear son laid himself at my back, and the worthy man happing us with his plaid, we soon fell asleep.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 171
When the cart stopped at the Kingswell, where Robin was in the usage of halting half an hour, he awoke us ; and there being no strangers in the house we alighted, and going in, warmed ourselves at the Hre.
Out of a compassion for me the mistress vanned and spiced a pint of ale; but, instead of doing me any good, I had not long par- taken of the same when I experienced a great coldness and a trembling in my limbs, in so much that I felt myself very ill, and prayed the kind woman to allow me to lie down in a bed; which she consented to do in a most charitable manner, causing her husband, who was a covenanted man, as I afterwards found, to rise out of his, and give me their own.
The cold and the tremblings were but the symptoms and beginnings of a sore malady, which soon rose to such a head that Robin Brown taiglet more than two hours for me ; but still I grew worse and worse, and could not be removed for many days. On the fifth
172 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
I was brought so nigh unto the "-atcs of death that my sou, who never left the bed-stock, thought at one time I had been released from my troub le. But I was reserved for the task that tin' Lord had in store for me, and from that time T began to recover; and nothing could exceed the tenderness wherewith I was treated by those Samaritan Christians, the landlord and his wife of the public at Kings- well. This distemper, however, left a great imbecility of body behind it ; and I wondered whether it could he of providence to prevent me from going forward with my avenging pur- pose against Charles Stuart and his counsel- lors.
Being one day in this frame of dubiety, lying in the bed, and inv s,m sitting at my pillow, I said to him, " Get THE Book, and open and read :"" which he accordingly did; and the first verse that he cast his eve upon was the twenty- fourth of the seventh chapter of Isaiah, "With arrows and with bows shall men come.11
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 173
" Stop,11 said I, " and go to the window and sec who are coming ;11 but when he went thither and looked out lie could see no one far nor near. Vet still I heard the tramp of many feet, and I said to him, " Assuredly, Joseph, then- are many persons coining to- wards this house, and I think they are not men of war, for their steps are loose, ami they march not in the order of battle.11
This I have thought was a wonderful sharpness of hearing with which I was for a season then gifted ; for soon after a crowd of persons were discovered coming over the moor towards the house, and it proved to be Mr Cargill, with about some sixty of the Cameronians, who had been hunted from out their hiding-places in the south.
174 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XIX.
It is surely a most strange matter, that when- ever I come to think and to write of the events of that period, and of my sickness at Kings- well, my thoughts relapse into infirmity, and all which then passed move, as it were, before me in mist, disorderly and fantastical. But wherefore need I thus descant of my own estate, when so many things of the highest concernment are pressing upon my tablets for registration ? Be it therefore enough that I mention here how much I was refreshed by the prayers of Mr Cargill, who was brought into my sick-chamber, where he wrestled with great efficacy for my recovery ; and that after he had made an end, I felt so much strength- ened, that I caused myself to be raised from my bed and placed in a chair at the open window, that I might see the men who had
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 175
been heartened from on high, by the sense of their sufferings, to proclaim war against the man-sworn King, our common foe.
They were scattered before the house, to the number of more than fifty, some sitting on stones, others stretched on the heather, and a few walking about by themselves, ruminat- ing on mournful fancies. Their appearance was a thought wild and raised, — their beards had not been shaven for many a day, — their apparel was also much rent, and they had all endured great misfortunes in their families and substance. Their homes had been made desolate ; some had seen their sons put to death, and not a few the ruin of their inno- cent daughters and the virtuous wives of their bosoms, — all by the fruit of laws and edicts which had issued from the councils of Charles Stuart, and were enforced by men drunken with the authority of his arbitrary will.
But though my spirit clove to theirs, and was in unison with their intent, I could not
176 RIN6KAN GILHAIZE.
but doubt of so poor a handful of forlorn men, though it be written, that the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong, and I called to my son to bring me the Book, that I might be instructed from the Word what I ought at that time to do ; and when he had done so I opened it, and the twenty-second chapter of Genesis met my eye, and I was awed and trembled, and my heart was melted with sadness and an agoniz- ing grief. For the command to Abraham to sacrifice Isaac his only son, whom he so loved, on the mountains in the land of Moriah, requir- ed of me to part with my son, and to send him with the Cameronians; and I prayed with a weeping spirit and the imploring silence of a parent's heart, that the Lord would be pleased not to put my faith to so great a trial.
I took the Book again, and I opened it a second time, and the command of the sacred oracle wras presented to me in the fifth verse of the fifth chapter of Ecclesiastes —
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 177
" Better is it that thou shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not pay."
But still the man and the father were power- ful with my soul ; and the weakness of disease was in me, and I called my son towards me, and I bowed my head upon his hands as he stood before me, and wept very bitterly, and pressed him to my bosom, and was loath to send him away.
He knew not what caused the struggle wherewith he saw me so moved, and he be- came touched with fear lest my reason was again going from me. But I dried my eyes, and told him it was not so, and that maybe I would be better if I could compose myself to read a chapter. So I again opened the volume, and the third command was in the twenty-sixth verse of the eighth chapter of St Matthew :
" Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith ?"
But still notwithstanding my rebellious heart would not consent ; — and I cried, — " I
h2
178 RING AN GILHAIZE.
am a poor infirm, desolate, and destitute man, and he is all that is left me. 0 that mine eyes were closed in death, and that this head, which sorrow, and care, and much misery have made Untimely grey, were laid on its cold pillow, and the green curtain of the still kirk-yard were drawn around me in my last long sleep.1"'
Then again the Boftness of a mother's fond- ness came upon my heart, and I grasped the wondering stripling's hands in mine, and shook them, saying, " But it must be so, it is the Lord's will, — thrice has he commanded, and I dare not rebel thrice."
" What has he commanded, father," said the boy. " what is his will, for ye ken it maun be doni
" Read," said I, " the twenty-second chap- ter of Genesis."
" I ken't, father ; it's about Abraham and wee Isaac ; but though ye tak me into the land of Moriah, and up to the top of the hill, maybe a ram will be catched by the horns in
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 179
a whin-bush for the burnt-offering, and veil no hae ony need to kill me.11
At that moment Mr Cargill came again into the rooiu to bid me farewell ; but seeing my son standing with the tear of simplicity in his eye, and me in the weakness of my infirm estate weeping upon his hands, he stopped and inquired what then had so moved us ; whereupon I looked towards him and said —
" When I was taken with the malady that has thus changed the man in me to more than the gentleness of woman, ye ken, as I have already told you, we were bowne to seek your folk out and to fight on your side. But when I beheld your dejected and much-persecuted host, a doubt came to me, that surely it could not be that the Lord intended throuj>h them to bring about the deliverance of the land ; and under this doubt as to what I should now do, and my limbs being moreover still in the fetters of sickness, I consulted the oracle of God."
180 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
" And what has been the answer ?"
" It has instructed me to send my son with you. But O, it is a terrible probation.11
" You have done well, my friend," replied the godly man, " to seek advice from the Word ; but apply again, and maybe — maybe, Ringan, yell no be put to so great a trial.11
To this I could only say, " Alas ! sir, twice have I again consulted the oracle, and twice has the answer been an exhortation and a reproach that I should be so loth to obey.11
" But what for, father,11 interposed my son, " need ye be sae fashed about it. I would ne^r refuse ; — I'm ready to gang, if ye were na sae weakly ; — and though the folk afore the house are but a wee waff-like, ye ken it is written in the Book, that the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong.11
Mr Cargill looked with admiration at the confidence of this young piety, and laying his hand on the boy's head, said, " I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. The
RINGAN GILHAIZE.
181
Lord is in this, Ringan, put your trust in Him."
Whereupon I took my son's hand and I placed it in the martyr's hand, and I said, " Take him, lead him wheresoever ye will. I have sinned almost to disobedience, but the confidence has been renewed within me."
" Rejoice," said Mr Cargill, in words that were as the gift of health to my enfeebled spirit, " Rejoice, and be exceeding glad ; for great is your reward in heaven ; for so perse- cuted they the prophets which were before
you."
As he pronounced the latter clause I felt my thoughts flash with a wild remembrance of the desolation of my house ; but he began to return thanks for the comfort that he him- . self enjoyed in his outcast condition, of be- holding so many proofs of the unshaken con- stancy of faith still in the land, and prayed for me in words of such sweet eloquence, that even in the parting from my son, — my last,
182 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
wliom I loved so well, they cherished me with a joy passing all understanding.
At the conclusion of his inspired thanks- giving, I kissed my Joseph on the forehead, and bidding him remember what his father's house had been, bade him farewell.
His young heart was too full to reply ; and Mr Cargill too was so deeply affected that lie said nothing; so, after shaking me by the hand, he led him away.
And if I did sin when they were departed, in the complaint of my childless desolation, for no less could I account it, it was a sin that surely will not be heavily laid against me. " O Absalom, my son, my son, — would I had died for thee,r> cried the warlike King David, when Absalom was slain in rebellion against him, and he had still many children ; but my innocent Absalom was all that I had left.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 183
CHAP. XX.
Durtxg the season that the malady continued upon me, through the unsuspected agency of Robin Brown, a paction was entered into with certain of ray neighbours, to take the lands of Quharist on tack among them, and to pay me a secret stipend, by which, means were ob- tained to maintain me in a decency when I was able to be removed into Glasgow. And when my strength was so far restored that I could bear the journey, the same good man entered into a stipulation with Mrs Aird, the relict of a gospel minister, to receive me as a lodger, and he carried me in on his cart to her house at the foot of the Stockwell.
With that excellent person I continued se- veral months unmolested, but without hearing any tidings of my son. Afflicting tales were
184 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
however of frequent occurrence, concerning the rigour wherewith the Cameronians were hunted ; so that what with anxiety, and the backwardness of nature to rally in ailments ayont fifty, I continued to languish, incap- able of doing any thing in furtherance of the vow of vengeance that I had vowed. Nor should I suppress, that in my infirmity there was often a wildness about my thoughts, by which I was unfitted at times to hold com- munion with other men.
On these occasions I sat wondering if the things around me were not the substanceless imageries of a dream, and fancying that those terrible truths whereof I can yet only trust my- self to hint, might be the fallacies of a diseased sleep. And I contested as it were with the reality of all that I saw, touched, and felt, and struggled like one- oppressed with an in- cubus, that I might awake and find myself again at Quharist in the midst of my family.
At other times I felt all the loneliness of the
4
KINOAN GILHAIZE. 185
solitude into which my lot was then cast, and it was in vain that I tried to appease my craving affections with the thought, that in parting with my son I had given him to the Lord. I durst not say to myself there was aught of frenzy in that consecration ; but when I heard of Cameronians shot on the hills or brought to the scaffold, I prayed that I might receive some token of an accept- ed offering in what I had done.
Sterner feelings too had their turns of pre- dominance. I recalled the manifold calami- ties which withered my native land — the guilty provocations that the people had received — the merciless avarice and rapacious profli- gacy that had ruined so many worthies — the crimes that had scattered so many families — and the contempt with which all our wrongs and woes were regarded ; and then I woidd remember my avenging vow, and supplicate for health
At last, one day Mrs Aird, who had been
186 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
out on some household cares, returned home in great distress of mind, telling me that the soldiers had got hold of Mr Cargill, and had brought him into the town.
This happened about the ninth or tenth of July, in the afternoon ; and the day being very sultry, the heat had oppressed me with languor, and I was all day as one laden with sleep. But no sooner had Mrs Aird told me this, than I felt the languor depart from me, as if a cumbrous cloak had been taken away, and I rose up a recruited and re-animated man. It was so much the end of my debility of body and sorrowing of mind, that she was loquacious with her surprise when she saw me, as it were, with a miraculous restoration, prepare myself to go out in order to learn, if possible, some account of my son.
When, however, I went into the street, and saw a crowd gathered around the guard- house, my heart failed me a little, not for fear, but because the shouts of the multitude
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 187
were like the yells and derisions of insult ; and I thought they were poured upon the holy sufferer. It was not, however, so ; the gospel-taught people of Glasgow were, not- withstanding their prelatic thraldom, moved far otherwise, and their shouts and scoffings Avere against a townsman of their own, who had reviled the man of God on seeing him a prisoner among the soldiers in the guard- house.
Not then knowing this I halted, dubious if I should go forward ; and while standing in a swither at the corner of the Stockwell, a cart came up from the bridge, driven by a stripling. I saw that the cart and horse were Robin Brown's, and before I had time to look around, my son had me by the hand.
We said little, but rejoiced to see each other again. I observed, however, that his apparel was become old, and that his eyes were grown quick and eager like those of the hunted Cameronians whom I saw at Kingswell.
188 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
" We hae ta'en Robin Brown's cart frae him," said he, " that I might come wi't un- jealoused into the town, to hear what's to be done wi' the minister ; but I maun tak. it back the night, and maybe we'll fa1 in the- gither again when I hae done my errand."
With that he parted from me, and giving the horse a touch with his whip, drove it along towards the guard-house, whistling like a blithe country lad that had no care.
An soon as he had so left me, I went back to Mrs Aird, and providing myself with what money I had in the house, I went to a shop and bought certain articles of apparel, which having made up into a bundle, I requested, the better to disguise my intent, the mer- chant to carry it himself to Robin Brown the Ayr carrier's cart, and give it to the lad who was with it, to take to Joseph Gilhaize, — a thing easy to be done, both the horse and cart being well known in those days to the chief merchants then in Glasgow.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 189
When I had done this I went to the bridge, and, leaning over it, looked into the peaceful flowing tide, and there waited for nearly an hour before I saw my son returning ; and when at last he came, I could perceive, as he was approaching, that he did not wish I should speak to him, while at the same time he edged towards me, and in passing, said as it were to himself, " The bundle's safe, and he's for Edinburgh ;"" by which I knew that the apparel I had bought for him was in his hands, and that he had learnt Mr Cargill was to be sent to Edinburgh.
This latter circumstance, however, opened to me a new light with respect to the Camer- onians, and I guessed that they had friends in the town with whom they were in secret correspondence. But, aias ! the espionage was not all on their part, as I very soon was taught to know by experience.
Though the interviews with Joseph, my son, passed, as I have herein narrated, they
190 RINGAN GILIIAIZE.
had not escaped observance. For some time before, though I was seen but as I was, an invalid man, somewhat unsettled in his mind, there were persons who marvelled wherefore it was that I dwelt in such sequestration with Mrs Aird; and their marvelling set the espial of the prelacy upon me. And it so fell out that sonic of those evil persons, who, for hire or malice, had made themselves the beagles of the persecutors, happened to notice the man- ner in which my son came up to me when he entered the city driving Robin Brown's cart, and they jealoused somewhat of the truth.
They followed him unsuspected, and saw in what manner he mingled with the crowd ; and they traced him returning out of the town with seemingly no other cause for hav- ing come into it, than to receive the little store of apparel that I had provided for him. This was ground enough to justify any mo- lestation against us, and accordingly the same night I was arrested, and carried next morn-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 191
iw to Edinburgh. The cruel officers would have forced me to walk with the soldiers, but every one who .beheld my pale face and ema- ciated frame, cried out against it, and a cart was allowed to me.
On reaching Edinburgh I was placed in the tolbooth, where many other sufferers for the cause of the Gospel were then lying. It was a foul and an unwholesome den : many of the guiltless inmates were so wasted, that they were rather like frightful effigies of death than living men. Their skins were yellow, and their hands were roped and warpt with veins and sinews in a manner very awful to see. Their eyes were vivid with a strange distemperature, and there was a charnel-house anatomy in the melancholy with which they welcomed a new brother in affliction, that made me feel when I entered among them, as if I had come into the dark abode of spectres, and manes, and dismal shadows.
The prison was crowded over-much, and
192 RINGAN GILIIAIZE.
though life was to many not worth the care of preservation, they yel esteemed it as the gift of their Maker, and as such considered it their duty to prolong for his sake. It was
therefore a rule with them to stand in succes- sive hands at the windows, in order that they mighl taste of the living air from without ; and knowing from dismal experience, that those who came in the lasl suffered at first more than those who were before, it was a charit- able -elf-denial among them to allow to such a longer period of the window, their only solace. Thus it was that on the morning of the third day after I had been immured in that doleful place, I was standing with several others behind a party of those who were in possession of the enjoyment, in order that we might take their places when the hour expired; and while we were thus awaiting in patience the tedious elapse of the weary moments, a noise was heard in the streets as of the approach of a multitude.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 193
There was something in the coming sound of that tumult unlike the noise of any other multitude ; — ever and anon a feeble shouting, and then the roll of a drum ; but the general sough was a murmur of horror followed by a rushing, as if the people were scared bv some dreadful sight.
The noise grew louder and nearer, and hoarse bursts of aversion and auger, mingled with lamentations, were distinctly heard. Every one in the prison pressed to the window, wondering what hideous procession could occasion the expression of such contra- rious feelings in the populace, and all eager to catch a glimpse of the dismal pageant, ex- pecting that it was some devoted victim, who, according to the practice of the time, was treated as a sentenced criminal, even as lie was conveyed to his trial.
" What do you see P11 said I to one of the prisoners who clung to the bars of iron with which the window near where I stood
VOL. III. I
19-1 RINGAX GILHAIZE.
was grated, and who thereby saw farther down the street.
" I can see but the crowd coming,'1'' said he, '• and every one is looking as if he grew- ed at something not yet in sight."
At that moment, and while he was speaking, there was a sudden silence in the street.
" What lias happened ?" said one of the sufferers near me : my heart beat so wildly that I would not myself inquire.
" They have stopped," was the answer ; " but now they come. I see the magistrates. Their guard is before them, — the provost is first — they are coming two and two — and they look very sorrowful."'''
" Are there but the magistrates ?" said I, making an effort to press in closer to the window.
" Ave, now it is at hand,'1'' said the man who was clinging to the grating of the win- dow. " The soldiers are marching on each side — I see the prisoners ; — their hands are
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 195
tied behind, ilk loaded wi' a goad of iron — they are bareheaded — ane — twa — three — four — five — they are five fatherly-looking men."
" They are Cameronians,"1 said I, some- what released, I know not wherefore, unless it was because he spoke of no youth being among them.
" Hush V said he, " here is another — He is on horseback — I see the horse's head — Oh ! the sufferer is an old grey-headed minister — his head is uncovered — he is placed with his face to the horse's tail — his hands are tied, and his feet are fastened with a rope beneath the horse's belly. — Hush ! they are passing under the window."
At that moment a shriek of horror rose from all then looking out, and every one re- coiled from the window. In the same in- stant a bloody head on a halbert was held up to us. — I looked — I saw the ghastly features, and I would have kissed those lifeless lips ; for, O ! they were my son's.
196 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XXI.
I had laid that son, my only son, whom I 9a loved, on the altar of the Covenant, an offering unto the Lord ; hut still I did hope that maybe it would be according to the mercy of wisdom that He would provide a lamb in the bush for the sacrifice; and when the Btripling had parted from me, I often felt as the mother feels when the milk of love is in her hosom, and her habe no longer there. I shall not, however, here relate how my soul was wounded at yon sight, nor ask the courteous reader to conceive with what agony I exclaimed, " Wherefore was it, Lord, that I was commanded to do that unfruitful thing !" for in that very moment the cry of my fail- ing faith was rebuked, and the mystery of Un- required sacrifice was brought into wonder-
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 197
ful effect, manifesting that it was for no light purpose I had been so tried.
My fellow-sufferer, who hung by the bars of the prison-window, was, like the other wit- nesses, so shaken by the woful spectacle, that he suddenly jerked himself aside to avoid the sight, and by that action the weight of his body loosened the bar, so that when the pageantry of horrors had passed by, he felt it move in his grip, and he told us that surely Providence had an invisible hand in the bloody scene ; for, by the loosening of that stancher, a mean was given whereby we might all escape. Accordingly it was agreed, that as soon as the night closed over the world, we should join our strengths together to bend the bar from its socket in the lintel.
And then it was I told them that what they had seen was the last relic of my martyred family ; and we made ourselves wroth with the recital of our several wrongs ; for all there had endured the scourge of the perse-
198 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
tutors ; and >ve took each other by the hand, and swore a dreadful oath, never to desist in our endeavours till we had wrenched the scep- tre from the tvrannical grasp of the Stuarts, and broken it into pieces for ever; and we burst into a wild strain of complaint and cla- mour, calling on the blood of our murdered friends to mount, with our cries, to the gates of Heaven ; and we sang, as it were with the voices of the angrv waters and the winds, the hundred and ninth Psalm; and at the end of every verse we joined our hands, crying, " Upon Charles and James Stuart, and all their guilty line, () Lord, let it be done ;"" and a vast multitude gathered around the prison, and the lamentations of many without was a chorus in unison with the dismal song of our vengeance and despair.
At last the shadows of the twilight began to darken in the town, and the lights of the windows were to us as the courses of the stars of that sky which, from our prison-chamber,
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 199
could not be seen. We watched their progress, from the earliest yellow glimmering of the lamp in the darksome wynd, till the last little twinkling light in the dwelling of the widow that sits and sighs companionless with her distaff in the summits of the city. And we continued our vigil till they were all one by one extinguished, save only the candles at the bedsides of the dying. Then we twined a portion of our clothes into a rope, and, having fastened it to the iron bar, soon drew it from its place in the stone ; but just as we were preparing to take it in, by some accident it fell into the street.
The panic which this caused prevented us from attempting any thing more at that time ; for a sentinel walked his rounds on the out- side of the tolbooth, and we could not but think he must have heard the noise. A sullen despair in consequence entered into many of our hearts, and we continued for the remain- der of the night silent.
200 KING AN GILHAIZE.
Jiut though others were then shaken in their faith, mine was now confident. I saw, by what had happened in the moment of my remonstrance, that there was some great de- liverance in reservation ; so I sat apart by my- self, and I spent the night in inward thanks- giving for what had been already done. Nor was this confidence long without its reward.
In the morning a brother of one of my fellow-sufferers coming to condole witli him, it being generally reported that we were all doomed to die, he happened to see the bar lying on the street, and, taking it up, hid it till he had gone into a shop and provided himself with a cord. He then hastened to us, gave us the cord, and making what speed he could, brought the iron in his plaid ; and, we having lowered the string from the win- dow, he fastened the bar to it, and we drew it up undiscovered, and reset it in its place, by which the defect could not be seen by any- one, not even from the street.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 201
That morning, by the providence which was visible in this, became, in our prison, a season indeed of light and gratulation ; and the day passed with us as a Sabbath to our spirits. The anvils of Fear were hushed, and the shuttles in the looms of Anxiety were at rest, while Hope again walked abroad in those sunny fields where, amidst vernal blossoms and shining dews, she expatiates on the delights of the flowing cluster and the ripened fruit.
The young man, who had been so guided to find the bar of iron, concerted with another friend of his to be in readiness at night on a signal from us, to master the sentinel. And at the time appointed they did so ; and it happened that the soldier was the same hu- mane Englisher, Jack Windsor, who had allowed me to escape at Kilmarnock, and he not only remained silent, but even when re- lieved from his post, said nothing ; so that, to the number of more than twenty, we lowered ourselves into the street and escaped.
i 2
202 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
But the city gates at that hour being shut, there was no egress from the town, and many of us knew not where to hide ourselves till the morning. Such was my condition ; and wan- dering up and down for some time, at last I turned into the Blackfriars-wynd, where I saw a light in a window : on looking around I beheld, by that light, engraven on the lintel of an opposite door, " In the Lord is my
HOPE."
Heartened by the singular providence that was so manifest in that cheering text, I went to the door and knocked, and a maiden an- swered to the knocking.
I told her what I was, and whence I had come, and entreated her to have compassion, and shelter me for the night.
" Alas !" said she, " what can hae sent you here, for this is a bishop's house ?"
I was astounded to hear that I had been so led into the lion's den ; but I saw pity in the countenance of the damsel, and I told
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 203
her that I was the father of the poor youth whose head had been carried by the execu- tioner through the town the day before, and that I could' not but believe Providence had sent me thither; for surely no one would ever think of searching for me in a bishop's house.
Greatly moved by what I said, she bade me softly follow her, and she led me to a solitary and ruinous chamber. She then re- tired, but presently returned with some re- freshment, which having placed on an old chest, she bade God be with me, and went away.
With a spirit of inexpressible admiration and thanksgiving I partook of that repast, and then laying myself down on the bare floor, was blessed with the enjoyment of a downy sleep.
^04 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XXII.
I slept in that ruinous room in the Bishop's house till far in the morning, when, on go- ing to the window with the intent of drop- ping myself into the wynd, I saw that it was ordained and required of me to remain where I then was; for the inmates of the houses forenent were all astir at their respective vo- eations; and at the foot of the wynd, looking straight up, was a change-house, into which there was even at that early hour, a great re- sorting of bein elderly citizens for their dram and snap. Moreover, at the head of the n vnd, an aged carlin, with a distaff in her arms and a whorl in her hand, sat on a door- step tending a stand of apples and comfits ; so that, to a surety, had I made any attempt to escape by the window, I must have been
RINGAN GILHAFZE. 205
seen by some one, and laid hold of. I there- fore retired back into the obscurity of the chamber, and sat down again on the old kist- lid, to abide the issues that were in reserva- tion for me. I had not, however, been long there, till I heard the voices of persons enter- ing into the next chamber behind where I was sitting, and I soon discerned by their courtesies of speech, that they were Lords of the Privy Council, who had come to walk with the Bishop to the palace, where a council was summoned in sudden haste that morning. The matter whereof they discoursed was not at first easily made out, for they were con- versing on it when they entered ; but I very soon gathered that it boded no good to the covenanted cause nor to the liberties of Scot- land.
" What you remark, Aberdeen," said one, " is very just ; man and wife are the same person ; and although Queensberry has ob- served, that the revenue requires the penal-
206 RINVAN giliiaize.
ties, and that husbands ought to pay for their wives, I look not on the question in that light ; for it is not right, in my opinion, that the revenues of the crown should be in any de- gree dependent on fines and forfeitures. But tlu- presbyterians are a sect whose main prin- ciple is rebellion, and it would be happy for the kingdom were the whole race rooted out; indeed I am quite of the Duke of York's opinion, that there will be little peace among us till the Lowlands are made a hunting-field, and therefore am I as eamesl ;i^ Queensberry
that the lines should be enforced. "'
" Certainly, mv Lord Perth," replied Aberdeen, " it i> not to be denied, that, what with their Covenants, and Solemn Leagues, and Gospel pretensions, the presbyterians are dangerous and bad subjects; and though I shall not go so far as to say, with the Duke, that the Lowlands should be laid waste, I doubt if there be a loyal subject west the castle of Edinburgh. Still the office which
KINdAN OILHAIZE. 207
I have the honour to hold does not allow me to put any interpretation on the law dif- ferent from the terms in which the sense is conceived."
" Then," said Perth, " if there is any douht about the terms, the law must be altered ; for, unless we can effectually crush the presbvte- rians, the Duke will assuredly have a rough accession. And it is better to strangle the lion in his nonage than to encounter him in his full growth."
" I fear, my Lord," replied the Earl of Aberdeen, "thai the presbyterians are strong- er already than we are willing to let ourselves believe. The attempt to make them accept the episcopalian establishment has now been made, without intermission, for more than twenty years, and they are even less submis- sive than they were at the beginning."
" Yes, I confess," said Lord Perth, " that they are most unreasonably stubborn. It is truly melancholy to see what fools many sen-
208 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
sible men make of themselves about the forms of worship, especially about those of a reli- gion so ungentlemanly as the presbyterian, wYnch has no respect for the degrees of rank, neither out nor in the church.'"
" Vm afraid, Perth,1" replied Aberdeen laughing, " that what you say is applicable both to the King and his brother ; for, between ourselves, I do not think there are two per- sons in the realm who attach ao much import- ance to forms as they do."
• Not the King, my Lord, not the King P cried Perth ; " Charles is too much a man of the world to trouble himself about any such trifles.'1
" They are Burely not trifles, for they over- turned his father's throne, and are shaking his owm,11 replied Aberdeen emphatically. " Pray, have you heard any thing of Argyle lately ?"
u O ves," exclaimed Perth merrily ; " a capital story. He has got in with a rich burgomaster's frow at Amsterdam ; and she
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 209
has guilders enew to indemnify him for the loss of half the Highlands.-"
Aye," replied Aberdeen, " I do not like that ; for there has been of late a flocking of the presbyterian malcontents to Holland, and the Prince of Orange gives them a better re- ception than an honest man should do, stand- ing as he does, both with respect to the crown and the Duke. This, take my word for it, Perth, is not a thing to be laughed at.'"
" All that, Aberdeen, only shows the ne- cessity of exterminating these cursed pres- byterians. We shall have no peace in Scot- land till they are swept clean away. It is not to be endured that a Kino; shall not rule his own kingdom as he pleases. How would Argvle, and there was no man prouder in his jurisdictions, have liked had his tenants covenanted against him as the presbyterians have so insultingly done against his Majesty's government ? Let every man bring the ques- tion home to his own business and bosom,
210 RINCAN GILIIAIZE.
and the answer will be a short one, Doicn with the prcsliijtcr'ians f*
While they were thus speaking, and I need not advert to what passed in my breast as I overheard them, Patterson the Bishop of Edinburgh came id ; and with many in- terjections, mingled with wishes for a calm procedure, he told the Lords of our escape. He was indeed, to do him justice, a man of -nine repute for plausibility, and take him all in all for a prelate, he was, in truth, not void of the charities of human nature, com- pared with others of his sect.
" Your new-," said the Lord Perth to him, " does not Burprifie me. The societies, as the Cameronians are called, have inserted their roots and feelers every where. Rely upon" t. Bishop Patterson, that, unless we chop off' the whole connexions of the conspiracy, you can hope neither for homage nor reverence in your appointments.""
" I could wish," replied the Bishop, " that
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 211
sonic experiment were made of a gentler course than has hitherto been tried. It is now a long time since force was first employ- ed : perhaps, were his Royal Highness to slacken the severities, conformity would lose some of its terrors in the eyes of the misguid- ed presbyterians; at all events, a more lenient policy could do no harm ; and if it did u<> good, it would at least be free from those imputed cruelties, which are supposed to jus- tify the long-continued resistance that has brought the royal authority into such diffi- culties."
At this juncture of their conversation a gentleman announced, that his master was ready to proceed with them to the palace, and they forthwith retired. Thus did I obtain a glimpse of the inner mind of the Privy Council, by which I clearly saw, that what with those members who satisfied their consciences as to iniquity, because it was made seemingly lawful by human statutes,
212 RING AN GILHAIZE.
and what with those who, like Lord Perth, considered the kingdom the King's estate, and the people his tenantry, not the subjects of laws by which he was bound as much as they ; together with those others who, like the Bishop, considered mercy and justice as expedients of state policy, that there was no hope for the peace and religious liberties of the presbvterians, merely by resistance; and I, from that time, began to think it was only through the instrumentality of the Prince of Orange, then heir-presumptive to the crown, failing James Stuart, Duke of York, that my vow could be effectually brought to pass.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 213
CHAP. XXIII.
As soon as those of the Privy Council had, with their attendants, left the house, and pro- ceeded to join the Duke of York in the pa- lace, the charitable damsel came to me, and conveyed me, undiscovered, through the hall and into the Cowgate, where she had provided a man, a friend of her own, one Charles lirownlee, who had been himself in the hands of the Philistines, to conduct me out of the town ; and by him I was guided in safety through the Cowgate, and put into a house just without the same, where his mother resided.
" Here/1 said he, " it will be as well for you to bide out the daylight, and being now forth the town-wall, ye'll can gang whare ye like unquestioned in the gloaming." And so saying he went away, leaving me with his
1
214 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
mother, an ancient matron, with something of the remnant of ladyness about her, yet was she not altogether an entire gentlewoman, though at the first glimpse she had the look of one of the very highest degree.
Notwithstanding, however, that apparition of finery which was about her, she was in truth and in heart a sincere woman, and had, in the better days of her younger years, been, as she rehearsed to me, gentlewoman to the Countess of Argyll's mother, and was on a footing of cordiality with divers ladies of the bedcham- ber of what she called the three nobilities, meaning those of Scotland, England, and Ire- land ; so that I saw there might by her be opened a mean of espial into the camp of the adversaries. So I told her of my long severe malady, and the shock I had suffered by what I had seen of my martyred son, and entreated that she woidd allow me to abide with her un- til my spirits were more composed.
Mrs Brownlee having the compassion of a
RTXGAN GILHAIZE. 215
Christian, and the tenderness of her gentle sex, was moved by my story, and very readily consented. Instead therefore of going forth at random in the evening, as I was at one time mindet, I remained in her house ; where indeed could I at that time flee in the hope of finding any place of refuge ? But although this was adopted on the considerations of hu- man reason, it was nevertheless a link in the chain of providential methods by which I was to achieve the fulfilment of my vow.
The house of Mrs Brownlee being, as I have intimated, nigh to the gate of the city, I saw from the window all that went into and came out therefrom ; and the same afternoon I had visible evidence of the temper where- with the Duke of York and his counsellors had been actuated that day at Holyrood, in consequence of the manner in which we had been delivered from prison ; — for Jack Wind- sor, the poor sentinel who was on guard when we escaped by the window, was brought
216 IUNGAN GILHAIZE.
out, supjwrted by two of his companions, Ins feet having been so crushed in the torturous boots before the Council, during his examina- tion anent us, that he could scarcely mark them to thf ground ; his hands were also bound in cloths, through which the blood was still oozing, from the pressure of those dread- ful thuinbikins of iron that were so often used in those days to screw accusations out of honest men. A sympathizing crowd followed the destroyed sufferer, and the sight for a little while afflicted me with Bore regret. But
when I considered the compassion that the
people showed for him, I was filled with a strange satisfaction, deducing therefrom en- couraging persuasions, that every new sin of the persecutors removed a prop from their own power, making its overthrow more and more inevitable.
\\'hile I was peering from the window in these reflections, I saw Quintin Fullarton, the grandson of John Fullarton of Dykedivots,
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 217
in the street, and knowing that from the time of Bothwell-brigg he had been joined with that zealous and martyred youth, Richard Ca- meron, and was, as Robin Brown told me, among other acquaintances at Airsmoss, I entreated Mrs Brownlee to go after him and bid him come to me, — which he readily did, and we had a mournful communing for some time.
He told me the particulars of my gal- lant Joseph's death, and that it was by the command of Claverhouse himself that the brave stripling's head was cut off and sent in ignominy to Edinburgh ; where, by order of the Privy Council, it was placed on the Ne- therbow.
" What I hae suffered from that man," said I, " Heaven may pardon, but I can neither forget nor forgive."'1
" The judgment time's coming," replied Quintin Fullarton ; " and your part in it, Ringan Gilhaize, assuredly mil not be for-
VOL. III. k
21 S RING AN GILHAIZE.
gotten, for in the heavens there is a Doer of justice and an Avenger of wrongs.""
And then he proceeded to tell me, that on the1 following afternoon then' was to l>e a meeting of the heads of the Canieronian so- cieties, with Mr Renwick, in a dell of the EsL about half a mile above Laswade, to consult what ought to be done, the pursuit and per- ,ition being so hoi against them, that life is become a burden, and their minds des-
ite.
•• We hat manv friens,*" said he, " in Edin- burgh, and I am intrusted to warn them to the meeting, which is tlie md of mv coming to the town; and maybe, Ringan Gilhai/e. ve"ll no objek yoursel to he there ?"
" I will he there, Quintin Fullarton,"" said I ; •• and in the strength of the Lord I will come armed, with a weapon of more might than the sword, and more terrihle than the hall that Hieth unseen/''
K What mean vou, Ringan ?" said he, com-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 219
passionately; for he knew of my infirmity, and thought that I was still fevered in the mind. But I told him, that, for some time, feeling myself unable for warlike enterprises, I had meditated on a way to perplex our guilty adversaries, the which was to menace them with retaliation, for resistance alone was no longer enough.
" We have disowned Charles Stuart as our king,""' said I, " and we must wage war ac- oordingly. But go your ways, ami execute your purposes; and by the time you return this way, I shall have a paper ready, the send- ing- forth of which will strike terror into the brazen hearts of our foes."
I perceived that he was still dubious of me ; but nevertheless he promised to call as he came back ; and having gone away, I set myself down and drew up that declaration, wherein, after again calmly disowning the royal authority of Charles Stuart, we admo- nished our sanguinary persecutors, that, for
220 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
self-preservation, we would retaliate accord- ing to our power, and the degree of guilt on such privy counsellors, lords of justiciary, officers, and soldiers, their abettors and in- formers, whose hands should continue to be imbrued in our blood. And on the return of Quintin Fullarton, I gave the paper to him, that it might be Been and considered by Mr Renwiek ami others, previous to offering it to the consideration of the meeting.
lie read it over Very sedately, and folded it up, and put it in the crown of his bonnet without saving a word ; but several times, while he was reading, he cast his eyes towards me ; and when he rose to go away, he said, — " Ringan Gilhaize, you have endured much, but verily if this thing can be brought to pass, your own and all our sufferings will soon be richly revenged.
■ Not revenged,"1 said I ; "revenge, Quin- tin Fullarton, becomes not Christian men ; but we shall be the executioners of the just
RINGAN (JILHAIZE. 221
judgments of Him whose ministers are flaming fires, and pestilence, and war, and storms, and perjured kings."
With these words we parted ; and next morning, by break of day, I rose, after the enjoyment of a solacing sleep, such as I had not known for many days, and searched my way across the fields toward Laswade. I did not, however, enter the clachan, but lingered among the woods till the afternoon, when, descending towards the river, I walked leisurely up the banks, where I soon fell in with others of the associated friends.
222 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XXIV.
The place where we met was a deep glen, the Bcroggy sides whereof were as if rocks, and trees and brambles, with here and there a yellow primrose and a blue hyacinth be- tween, had been thrown by some wild archi- tect into many a difficult and fantastical form. Over a ledge of rock fell the bright waters of the Esk, and in the clear linn the trout.- shuttled from stone and crevice, dread- ing the persecutions of the angler, who, in the luxury of his pastime, heedeth not what they may in their cool element suffer.
It was then the skirt of the afternoon, about the time when the sweet breathing of flowers and boughs first begins to freshen to the gentle senses, and the shadows deepen in the cliffs of the rocks, and darken among the
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 223
buslies. The yellow sunbeams were still bright on the flickering leaves of a few trees, which here and there raised their tufty heads aljove the glen ; but in the hollow of the chasm the evening had commenced, and the sobriety of the fragrant twilight was coming on.
As we assembled one by one, we said little to each other. Some indeed said nothing, nor even shook hands, but went and seated them- selves on the rocks, round which the limpid waters were swirling with a soft and pleasant din, as if they solicited tranquillity. For myself, I had come with the sternest intents, and I neither noticed nor spoke to any one ; but going to the brink of the linn, I sat my- self down in a gloomy nook, and was sullen, that the scene was not better troubled into unison with the resentful mood of my spirit.
At last Mr Renwick came, and when he had descended into the dell, where we were gathered together, after speaking a few words of courtesy to certain of his acquaintance, lie
224 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
went to a place on the shelvy side of the glen, and took his station between two birch trees.
" I will be short with you, friends,"" said he ; " for here we are too nigh unto the ad- versaries to hazard ourselves in any long de- bate ; and therefore I will tell you, as a man speaking the honesty that i> within him, I neither can nor do approve of the paper that I understand some among you desire we should send forth. I have, however, accord- ing to what was exhibited to me in pri- vate, brought lure a proclamation, such as those who are most vehement among us \\i>h to propound; but I still leave it with yourselves to determine whether or not it should be adopted — entering, as I here do, in \ caveat as an individual against it. This paper will cut off all hope of reconciliation — we have already disowned King Charles, it is true ; but this implies, that we are also re- solved to avenge, even unto blood and death,
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 225
whatsoever injury we may in our own persons and friends be subjected to suffer. It pledges us to a war of revenge and extermination ; and we have to consider, before we wage the same, the strength of our adversary — the craft of his counsellors — and the malice with which their fears and their hatred will inspire them. For my own part, fellow-sufferers, I do doubt if there be any warrandice in the Scriptures for such a defiance as this paper contains, and I would fain entreat you to re- flect, whether it be not better to keep the door of reconciliation open, than to shut it for ever, as the promulgation of this retaliatory edict will assuredly do."
The earnest manner in which Mr Itenwick thus delivered himself had a powerful effect. and many thought as he did, and several rose and said that it was not Christian to bar the door on peace, and to shut out even the chance of contrition on the part of the King and his ministers.
k 2
226" RINOAN UILHAIZE.
I heard what they said — I listened to what they argued — and I allowed them to tell that they were willing to agree to more moderate eouneils ; but I could abide no more.
'1 Moderation ! — Yon, Mr Renwick,11 said I, '.' conned moderation — you recommend the door of peace to he still kept open — you doubt if the Scriptures warrant Uf to under- take revenge ; anil you hope that our forbear- ■nte max work to repentance among our ene- mies. .Mr Renwick, you have hitherto been a preacher, not a sufferer ; with you the re- BUtance to Charles Stuart's government has been a thing of doctrine — of no more than doctrine, Mr Renwick — with us it is a consi- deration of facts. Judge ye therefore be- tween yourself and us, — I say between your- Befcf and us; for I ask no other judge to de- cide, whether we are not, by all the laws of God and man, justified in avowing, that we mean to do as we are done by.
" And, Mr Renwick, you will call to mind,
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 227
that in this sore controversy, the cause of de- bate came not from us. We were peaceable Christians, enjoying the shade of the vine and fin-tree of the Gospel, planted by the care and cherished bv the blood of our forefathers, pro- tected by the laws, and gladdened in our pro- tection by the oaths and the covenants whieh the King had sworn to maintain. The piv- byterian freedom of worship was our pro- perty,— we were in possession and enjoyment. no man could call our right to it in question,
the King had vowed, as a condition hefoiv
he was allowed to receive the erown. that he would preserve it. Vet, for more than twenty years, there has been a most eruel, fraudulent, ami outrageous endeavour instituted, and car- ried on, to deprive us of that freedom and birthright. We were asking no new thing from Government, we were taking no step to dis- turb Government, we were in peace with all men, when Government, with the principles of a robber and the cruelty of a tyrant, de-
228 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
nianded of us to surrender those immunities of conscience which our fathers had earned and defended ; to deny the Gospel as it is written in the Evangelists, and to accept the com- mentary of Charles Stuart, a man who has had no respect to the most solemn oaths, and of James Sharp, the apostate of St Andrews, whose crimes provoked a deed, that but for their crimson hue, no man could have doubt- ed to call a most foul murder. The King and his crew, Mr Renwick, arc, to the indubitable judgment of all just nun, the erasers and the aggressors in the existing difference between his subjects and him. In so far, therefore, if blame there be, it lieth not with us nor in our cause.
" But, sir, not content with attempting to \nest from us our inherited freedom of reli- gious worship, Charles Stuart and his abettors have pursued the courageous constancy with which we have defended the same, with more animosity than they ever did any crime. I
R1NGAN G1LHAIZE. 229
speak not to you, Mr Renwick, of your own outcast condition, — perhaps you delight in the perils of martyrdom ; I speak not to those around us, who, in their persons, their sub- stance, and their families, have endured the tor- ture, poverty, and irremediable dishonour, — they may be meek and hallowed men, willing to endure. But I call to mind what I am and was myself. I think of my quiet home, — it is all ashes. I remember my brave first- born,— he was slain at Bothwell-brigg. Why need I speak of my honest brother; the waves of the ocean, commissioned by our persecu- tors, have triumphed over him in the cold seas of the Orkneys ; and as for my wife, what was she to you ? Ye cannot be greatly disturbed that she is in her grave. No, ye are quiet, calm, and prudent persons ; it would be a most indiseret thing of you, you who have suffered no wrong yourselves, to stir on her account ; and then how unreasonable I should be, were I to speak of two fair and inno-
230 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
cent maidens. — It is weak of me to weep, though they were my daughters. 0 men and Christians, brothers, fathers ! but ye are content to bear with such wrongs, and I alone of all here may go to the gates of the cities, and try to discover which of the martyred heads mouldering there belongs to a son or a friend. Nor is it of any account whether the bones of those who were so dear to us, be exposed with the remains of malefactors, or laid in the sacred grave. To the dead all places are alike ; and to the slave what sig- nifies who is master. Let us therefore for- get the past, — let us keep open the door of reconciliation, — smother all the wrongs we have endured, and kiss the proud foot of the trampler. We have our lives; we have been spared ; the merciless bloodhounds have not yet reached us. Let us therefore be humble and thankful, and cry to Charles Stuart, O King, live for ever ! — for he has but cast us into a fiery furnace and a lion's den.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 231
" In truth, friends, Mr Renwick is quite right. This feeling of indignation against our oppressors is a most imprudent thing. If we desire to enjoy our own contempt, and to deserve the derision of men, and to merit the abhorrence of Heaven, let us yield ourselves to all that Charles Stuart and his sect require. We can do nothing better, nothing so meri- torious, nothing by which we can so reason- ably hope for punishment here and condem- nation hereafter. But if there is one man at this meeting, — I am speaking not of shapes and forms, but of feelings, — if there is one here that feels as men were wont to feel, he will draw his sword, and say with me, Wo to the house of Stuart ! Wo to the oppress- ors ! Blood for blood ! Judge and avenge our cause, O Lord !"
RINGAN QILHAIZE.
< HAP XXV.
Tin meeting, irith one accord, agreed thai the declaration should go forth ; and certain «h«i a idy writers, being pro-
vided "itli implements, retired apart t<> make . \vliilt Mr Ren wick, with the remain- der, joined together in prayer.
Bi the time be had made an m<l, tin- task the writrrs «a^ lini>hed, and then l<>t- in w arhom tl I I arould appoinl t<> affix t: • n "ii the trom - and kirk
dix»r-» <>t" the towns where the t the per-
iton burnt the ti«r<.-t. and II bong plea.s4.1l to rli for <>iu t<> di> the d
I _h, I returned in the gloami
back ti> the lion- Mr- Brownlee, t<> abide l)h- conrenient aeaaoo which I knew in tin.' fit
time- would 1> tred. Nor was it 1 < » i * ,*_c till
UNOAN OILS \i/i 233
die MUlie was brought to pa — . .1- I shall now blieflj I ' down.
II ion Brownlee, who, as I have narrated,
brought iiw to Ins mother's house, u;is l)\-
1 tailor, and kept Ins cloth-shop in the
\ doors lower don D than
Si M.n\ \\ .ikI, just after passing the fleshers -to* ks below the Netherbow ; tor in those days, when the court **a- at Holy rood, thai pari of tin- town «;b a pi. of great resort to the gallants, and all such as affected .1 courtly 1 And it hap-
pened that, on tin- mngyiing after tin- meet- ing, B proclamation \s.is ^.m forth, dr>* rihing tin- |>< rsona and clothing of the prisoners who had eai u 1 d from the to||><M>th with me, threat- ng grievous penalties :<• all who dared to harbour them. This Heron Brownlee •JSxed on tin- cheek of the Netherbow, came ami told me; whereupon, after conferr witli him, it wai ed that hi- should pro-
vide tor iiu- a suit of town-like clothes, and at
&4 BINOAM c.ILHAIZE.
the second-hand, thai they might not cau observance by any noveltv. This was in an- other respect needful ; for my health Ix-im:
in a frail state* I stood m want of the halo.
aome cordial of fresh air, whereof I could not venture t<> taste hut in the dusk of tin- ning.
II* accordingly provided the appi rel, and when ck>thed therewith, I made l)t>ld to go <mt in the broad daylight, and even ventured to mingle with tin- multitude in the gat ilea of the palace, who went daily there in the af- ternoon io see the nobles and ladies of the court walking with their pageantries, white the Duke's musicants solaced theso with me- lodioiu airs and the delights of sonorous hannonv. And it happened on the third lime I went thither, that a cry rose of the Duke- coming from the garden to the paiai and all the onlooker- pressed to see him.
A- he advanced, I saw several persons pre- senting petitions into his hands, which he
EINGAN (JILIIAIZE. 235
gave, without then looking at, bo the Lord Perth, whom I knew again by his voiee ; and I was directed^ as by a thought of inspira- tion, to present, in like manner, a copy of our declaration, which I always carried about with me ; so placing myself among a crowd of petitioners, onlookers, and servants, that formed an avenue across the road Leading from the Canongate to the Abbey kirk-yard, and between the garden jrett and the yett that opened into the front court of the palace. A> the Duke returned out of the garden, I gave him the paper ; hut instead of handing it to the Lord Perth, as I had hoped he would do.
he held it in his own hand, hy which I per-
seived that if he had notieed by whom it was
presented, and Looked at it before he went into the palace, I would speedily he seized on die spot, unless I could accomplish my escape.
But how to effect that was no easy tiling; for the multitude around was very great, and
236 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
but three narrow yetts allowed of egress from the enclosure— one leading into the garden — one to the palace — and the other into the Canongate. I therefore calmly put my trust in Him who alone could save me, and re- mained, as it were, an indifferent spectator, following the Duke with an anxious eye.
Having passed from the garden into the court, the multitude followed him with great eagerness, and I also went in with them, and walked verv deliberately across the front of the palace to the south-east corner, where there was a postern door that opened into the road leading to the King's park from the Cowgate-port, along the outside of the town wall. I then mended my pace, but not to any remarkable degree, and so returned to the house of Mrs Brownlee.
Scarcely was I well in, when Heron, her son, came flying to her with a report that a man was seized in the palace garden who had threatened the Duke's life, and he was fear-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 237
ful lest it had been me ; and I was much grieved by these tidings, in case any honest man should be put to the torture on my ac- count ; but the Lord had mercifully ordained it otherwise.
In the course of the night, Heron Brown- Ice, after closing his shop, came again and told me that no one had been taken, but that souk1 person in the multitude had given the Duke a dreadful paper, which had caused great consternation and panic; and that a council was sitting at that late hour with the Duke, expresses having arrived with accounts of the same paper having been seen on the doors of many churches both in Nithsdalc and the shire of Ayr. The alarm indeed raged to such a degree among all those who knew in their consciences how they merited the doom we had pronounced, that it was said the very looks of many were withered as with a pestilent vapour.
Yet, though terrified at the vengeance de-
238 RINGAN GILIIAIZE.
clared against their guilt, neither the Duke nor the Privy Council were to be deterred from tlu-ir malignant work. The curse of infatua- tion was upon them, and instead of changing the rule which had caused the desperation that .thi'v dreaded, they heated the furnace of per- secution seven-fold; and voted, That who* soever owned or refused to disown the decla- ration, should be put t<> death in the pre- sence of two witnesses, though unarmed when taken ; and the soldiers were not only order- id to enforce the test, but wire instructed to put such as adhered to the declaration at
once to the sword, and to slay those who re- fused to disown it ; anbVwomen were ordered to be drowned. But niv pen sickens with the recital of horrors, and I shall pass by the dreadful things that ensued, with only re- marking, that these bloody instructions con- summated the doom of the Stuarts; for scarcely were they well published, when the Duke hastened to London, and soon after
KINGAN GILHAIZE. 239
his mansworn brother Charles, the great au- thor of all our woes, was cut off by poison, as it was most currently believed, and the Duke proclaimed King in his stead. What change we obtained by the calamity of his accession will not require many sentenees to unfold.
240
RINHAN (.II.HAIZE.
CHAP. XXVI
A- toon a^ it was known abroad ihat Charles
the Second was dead, the Covenanters, who had taken refuse in Holland from tin- Perse- cution, assembled to consult what ought then to be done. For the papist, James Stuart, on the death of his brother, had caused him- self to be proclaimed King of Scotland, with- out taking thoseoatha by which alone he could ntitled to assume the Scottish crown.
At the head of thi> congregation was the
Earl of Argyle, who. some years before, had incurred the aversion of the tyrant to such ■
degree, that, by certain of those fit tools for any crime, then in dismal abundance about the court of Holyrood, he had procured his condemnation as a traitor, and would have brought him to the scaffold, had the Earl not
4
IUNGAN QILHAIZE. -'11
fortunately effected his escape. And it was resolved l>v that congregation, that the prin- cipal personages then present should form themselves into a Council, to concert the re- quisite measures for the deliverance of their native land; the immediate issue of which was, that a descent Bhould be made by Argyle among his vassals, in order to draw together a sufficient host to enable them to wage war against the Usurper, tor so they lawfully and rightly denominated James Stuart.
The first hint that I gleaned of this de- sign was through the means i^\' Mrs Brown- lee. She was invited one afternoon by the gentlewoman of the Lady Sophia Lindsay, the Earl's daughter-in-law, to view certain ar-
r ■
tieles of female bravery which had been sent from Holland by his Lordship to her mistn and. as her custom was, -he. on her return home, descanted at large of all that she had seen and heard.
The receipt, at that juncture, of such gear
VOL. III. L
242 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
from the Earl of Argyle, by such a Judith of courage and wisdom as the Lady Sophia Lindsay, seemed to me very remarkable, and I could not but jealouse that there was something about it like the occultation of a graver cor- respondence. I therefore began to question Mrs Brownlee how the paraphernalia had conn.', and what the Earl, according to the last accounts, was doing; which led her to expatiate on many things, though vague and desultory, that were yet in concordance with what I had overheard the Lord Perth say to the Earl of Aberdeen in the Bishop's house: in the end, I gathered that the pre- sents were brought over by the skipper of a sloop, one Roderick Macfarlane, whom I forthwith determined to see, in order to pick from him what intelligence I could, without being at the time well aware in what manner the same would prove useful. I felt myself, however, stirred from within to do so ; and I had hitherto, in all that concerned my
RINGAN GILHAIZE. -'»
avenging vow, obeyed every instinctive im- pulse.
Accordingly, next morning, I went early to the shore of Leith, and soon found the vessel and Roderick Macfarlanc, to whom I addressed myself, inquiring, as if I intended to go thither, when he was likely to depart again for Amsterdam.
While I was speaking to him, I observed something in his mien above his condition ; and that his hands were fair and delicate, un- like those of men inured to maritime labour. He perceived that I was particular in my in- spection, and his countenance became troubled, and he looked as if he wist not what to do.
" Fear no ill," said I to him ; " I am one in the jaws of jeopardy ; in sooth, I have no intent to pass into Holland, but only to learn whether there be any hope that the Earl of Argyle and those with him will try to help their covenanted brethren at home.r'
On hearing me speak so openly the coun-
344 RINGAN (JILIIAIZE.
tenance of the man brightened, and after eye- ing me with a sharp scrutiny, lie invited me to come down into the body of the bark, where we had some frank communion, his confidence being won by the plain tale of who I was and what I had endured. The Lord indeed was pleased, throughout that period of fears and tribulation, marvellously bo endow the persecuted with a singular and sympathe- tic instinct, whereby they were enabled at oner to discern their friends ; for the dangers ami difficulties, to which we were subject in our intercourse, afforded no time for those testimonies and experiences that in ordinary occasions are required to open the hearts of men to one another.
After some general discourse, Roderick Macfarlane told me, that his vessel, though seemingly only for traffic, had been hired by a certain Madam Smith in Amsterdam, and was manned by Highlanders of a degree above the common, for the purpose of open-
RIXGAN GILHAIZE. 245
nig a correspondence between Argyle and his friends in Scotland. Whereupon I proffered myself to assist in establishing a communica- tion with the heads and leaders of the Cove- nanters in the West Country, and particular- ly with Mr Renwick and his associates the Cameronians, who, though grievously scattered and hunted, were vet able to do great things in the way of conveying letters, or of inter- cepting the emissaries and agents of the Privy Council th.u might be employed to contravene the Earl's projects.
Thus it was that I came to be concerned in Argyle's unfortunate expedition — if that can be called unfortunate, which, though in itself a failure, yet ministered to make the scattered children of the Covenant again co- operate for the achievement of their common freedom. Doubtless the expedition was under- taken before the persecuted were sufficiently ripened to be of any effective service. The Earl counted overmuch on the spirit which the
246 BINGAN GILIIAIZE.
Persecution had raised; he thought that the weight of the tyranny had compressed us all into one body. But, alas ! it had been so great, thai it had not only bruised, but broken us asunder into manv pieces ; and time, and care, and much persuasion, wen all requisite to solder the fragments together. \- the spring advanced, being, in the man- ner related, engaged in furthering the pur- !><>-> of the exiled Covenanters, I prepared, through the instrumentality of divers friend-, many in the West Country to be in readus to join the Earl's standard of deliverance. It is not however to be disguised, that the work went on but slowly, and that the people heard of the intended descent with something like an actionh -> wonderment) in consequence of those by w hom it had been planned not sending forth any d< claration of their views and intents. And this indisposition, especially among the Camer- onians, became a settled reluctance, when, after the Earl had reached Campbelton, he publish-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 247
ed that purposeless proclamation, wherein, though the wrongs and woes of the kingdom were pithily recited, the nature of the redn ss proposed was in no manner manifest. It was plain indeed, by many signs, that the Lord's time was not yet come for the work to thrive. The divisions in Argyle's councils were greater even than those among the different orders into which the Covenanters had been long split — the very Cameronians might have been sooner persuaded to refrain from insisting on points of doctrine and opinion, at least till the adversary was overthrown, than those who were with the ill-fated Earl to act with union among themselves. In a word, all about the expedition was confusion and perplexity, and the omens and auguries of ruin, showed how much it wanted the favour that is better than the strength of numbers, or the wisdom of mighty men. But to proceed.
248 RINGAN UILIIAIZE.
CHAP. XXVII.
Sik Jonx Cochrane, one of those who were with Argyle, had. by some espial of his own, a correspondence "Kith divers of the Covenanters in the shire of Ayr ; and he was so heartened by their representations of the spirit among them, that he urged, and overcame the Earl, to let him make a trial on that coast before waiting till the High- landers were roused. Accordingly, with the three ships and the nun they had brought from Holland, he went toward Largs, famed in old time for a great battle fought there; but, on arriving opposite to the shore, he found it guarded by the powers and forces of the government, in so much, that he was fain to direct his course farther up the river ; and weighing anchor sailed for Greenock.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 24-9
It happened at this juncture, after confer- ring with several of weight among the Cam- eronians, that I went to Greenock for the purpose of taking shipping for any place where I was likely to find Argyle, in order to represent to him, that, unless there was a clear account of what he and others with him proposed to do, he could expect no co-opera- tion from the societies ; and I reached the town just a- the three ships were coming in sight.
I had not well alighted from my horse at Dugal M'Vicar the smith's public, — the best house it is in the town, and slated. It stands beside an oak tree on the open shore, helow the Mansion-house-brae, above the place where the mariners boil their tar-pots. As I was saving, I had not well alighted there, when a squadron of certain time-serving and pre- Latic-inclined heritors of the shire of Renfrew, under the command of Houston of that ilk, came galloping to the town as if they would have devoured Argyle, host, and ships and
l2
250 RINOAN GILHAIZE.
all; and they rode straight to the minister's glebe, where, behind the kirk-yard dyke, the} set themselves in battle array with
awn swords, the vessels having in the meanwhile come to anchor rbrenent the kirk.
Like the men of the town I went to be an onlooker, at a di . of v hat might ensue ;
and ;i -"it heart it u;is to me, t<> see and to bear that the Greenock folk stood s<> much in dread <>f their superior, sir John Shaw, that they durst not, for fear <>f his black-
le, venture to Bay that day whether they were |>;i]>i-ts, prelates, or presbyterians, he himself not lKinLr in tin- way to direct them.
Shortly after the ship- had t-ast anchor, Major Fullarton, with a party of some ten 01 twelve nun, landed at the bum-foot, near the kirk, and having shown a signa] for parli Houston and his men went to him, and be-
:i to chafe and chicle him for invading the country.
■• We are no invaders," said the Major,
KING AN GILHAIZE. 251
'k we have come to our native land to pre-
rve the protestant religion; and I am grieved that such brave gentlemen, as ye appear to be, should be seen in the cause of a papist tyrant and usurper."
•• Ye lee," cried Houston, and fired his pistol at the Major, the Like did his men : l>ut they were bo well and quickly answered in the same language, that they soon were obligated to flee like drift to the brow of a hill, called Kilblain-brae, where they again showed face.
Those on board the slops seeing what was thus doing on the land, pointed their great guns to the airt where the cavaliers had rallied, and tired them with such effect, that the stoure and stones brattled about the hi of the heritors, which so terrified them all that they scampered off'; and, it is said, some drew not bridle till they were in Paisley with whole skins, though at some cost of leather.
When these tyrant tools were thus discom-
252 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
fited, Sir John Cochrane came on shore, and tried in vain to prevail on the inhabitants to join in defence of religion and liberty. So he Bent for the baron-bailie, who was the ruling power of the town in the absence of their great >ir .John, and ordered him to provide forthwith two hundred bolls of meal for the ships, ]}nt the bailie, a Bhrewd and gausie man, made so many difficulties in the gather- of the meal, to waste time till help wonld come, that the knight was glad to content himself with little more than a fifth part of his demand.
Meanwhile I had made mv errand known to Sir .John Cochrane, and when he went off with the meal-sacks to the ships I went with him, and we Bailed the- same night to the castle of Allengreg, where Argyle himself then was.
Whatever e!oul>t> and fears I had of the success of the expedition, -were all wofully confirmed, when I saw how things were about
RINOAN GILILUZE. 253
that unfortunate nobleman. The controver- sies in our councils at the Pentlancl raid were more than renewed among those who were around Argyle; and it was plain to me that the Bense of ruin was upon his spirit ; for, after I had told him the purport of mv mis- sion, he said to me in a mournful manner —
" I can discern no party in this country that desire to he relieved ; there are some hid- den ones no doubt, but only mv poor friends here in Argyle seem willing to he free. God hath so ordered it. and it must be for the best. I submit myself to his will."*
I felt the truth of what he said, that the tyranny had indeed bred distrust among us, and that the patience of men was so worn out that very many were inclined to submit from mere weariness of spirit ; — but I added, to hearten him, if one of my condition may say so proud a thing of so great a person, That were the distinct ends of his intents made more clearly manifest, maybe the dispersed
251 BINGAN GILHAIZE.
hearts of the Covenanters would yet be knit together. " Some think, my Lend, ye're for the Duke of Monmouth to be king, hut that will ne'er do, — the rightful heirs canna be art
de. James Stuart may be, and should be, put down; but, according to the customs re- gistered, as I hae read in the ancient chro- nicles of this realm, when our nation ii olden times cut off a king for hi^ misdeeds, the next lawful heir was ay raised to the throne.*1
To this the Ear] made do answer, but con- tinued BCtne time thoughtful, and thru said —
" It rests not all with me, — those who are with me, as you niav will note, take over much upon them, and will not he controlled. They arc like the wares, raised and driven wheresoever any blast of rumour wiseth them to go. I gave a letter of trust to one of their emissaries, and, like the raven, he has never returned. If,however, I could get to Inver- ary, 1 doubt not yet that something might
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 255
be done ; for I should then be in the midst of some that would reverence Argylc.""
But why need I dwell on these melancho- lious incidents? Next day the Earl resolved to make the attempt to reach Inverary, and I went with him ; hut after the castle of Ark- inglass, in the way thither, had been taken, he was obligated, by the appearance of two Eng- lish frigates which had been sent in pursuit of the expedition, to return to AUengreg; for the main stores and ammunition brought from Holland were lodged in that castle; the ships also were lying there; all which in a manner were at stake, and no garrison adequate to de- fend the same from so great a power.
On returning to AUengreg, Argyle saw it would be a golden achievement, if in that juncture he could master the frigates ; so he ordered his force, which amounted to about a thousand men, to man the ships and four prizes which he had, together with about thirty cowan boats belonging to his vassals,
^•56 RINGAN GILHATZE.
and to attack the frigates. But in tliis also he was disappointed, for those who were with him, and wedded to the purpose of going to the Lowlands, mutinied against the Bcheme as too hazardous, and obliged him to give up the attempt, and t<> leave the castle with a weak and incapable garrison.
Accordingly, reluctant, but yielding to these blind councils, after quitting Allengn we inarched for the Lowland-, and at the
head of the Gareloch, where we halted, the rrison which had been left at Allengreg joined us with the disastrous intelligence, that, finding themselves unable to withstand the frigates, they had abandoned all.
I w;ix mar to Argyle when the news of this was brought to him, and I observed that he said nothing, but his cheek faded, and he hastily wrung his hands.
Having crossed the river Leven a short way above Dumbarton, without suffering any ma- terial molestation, we halted for the night.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 257
But as we were setting our watches a party of the government force appeared, so that, in- stead of getting any rest after our heavy inarch, we were obligated to think of again moving.
The Earl would lain have fought with that force, his numbers being superior, but he was again over-ruled ; so that all we could do was, during the night, leaving our camp-fires burn- ing for a delusion, to make what haste we could toward Glasgow.
Iii this the uncountenanced fortunes of the expedition were again seen. Our guides in the dark misled us; so that, instead of being taken to Glasgow, we were, after grievous traversing in the moors, landed on the hanks of the Clyde near Kilpatriek, where the whole force broke up, Sir John Cochrane, being fey for the West Country, persuading many to go with him oyer the water, in order to make for the shire of Ayr.
The Earl seeing himself thus deserted, and
258 RINGAN (ilLIIAIZE.
hut few besides those of his own kin left with him, rock- about a mile on towards Glasgow, with the intent of taking some rest in the house of one who had been hie servant; hut on reaching the door it was >hut in his face, and barred, and admission peremptorily re- fused. He amid nothing, but turned round to us with a smile of luch resigned sadness that it brought tears into every eye.
Seeing that his fate was come to such ex- tremity. I proposed to exchange clothes with him, that he might the better escape, and to conduct him to the West Country, where, if any chance were yet left, it was to be found then', as Sir John Cochrane had represented. Whereupon he senl bis kinsmen to make the best of their way back to the Highlands, to try what could be done among his clan ; and haying accepted a portion of my apparel, he went to the ferry-boat with Major Fullarton. and we crossed the water together.
On landing on the Renfrew side the Earl
RINGAN GILHAIZE. '-259
went forward alone, a little before the Major and me ; but on reaching the ford at Inchin- uan he was stopped by two soldiers, who laid hands upon him, one on each side, and in the grappling one of them the Earl fell to the ground. In a moment, however, his Lord- ship started up, and got rid of them by pre- setting his pistols. But live others at the same instant came in sight, and fired and ran in at him, and knocked him down with their swords. " Alas! unfortunate Argvle," I heard him erv as he fell ; and the soldiers were so astonished at having so rudely treated so great a man, that they stood still with awe and dropped their swords, and some of them shed tears of sorrow for his fate.
Seeing what had thus happened, Major Fullarton and I fled and hid ourselves behind a hedge, for we saw another party of troopers coming towards the spot, — we heard after- wards that it was Sir John Shaw of Greenock, with some of the Renfrewshire heritors, by
260 RIN(i AN (ilLHAIZE.
whom the Earl was conducted a prisoner to Glasgow. But of the dismal indignities, and the degradations to which he was subjected, and of hi> doleful martyrdom, the courteous reader may well spare me the sad recital, as they arc recorded in all true British historii and he will accept for the same those sweet but mournful lines which Arsyle indited in the dungeon :
Tliou, passenger, that shah have so much time
To view my grave, and ask what was my crime ;
No stain of error, no black vice's brand,
W'.in that which chased me from my native land.
Love to my country — twice sentenced to die —
Constrain'd my hands forgotten arms to try.
More by friends' fraud my fall proceeded hath
Than foes, though now they thrice decreed my death.
On my attempt though Providence did frown,
II > opptren'd people <><nl at length shall own ;
Another hand, by more successful speed,
Shall raise the remnant, bruise the serpent's head.
Though my head fall, that is no tragic story,
Since, going hence, I enter endless glory.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 261
CHAP. XXVIII.
The news of the fall of Argyle was as glad- dening wine to the cruel spirit of James Stuart. It was treated by him as victory was of old among the conquering Romans, and he ordained medals of brass and of silver to be made, to commemorate, as a glo- rious triumph, the deed that was a crime. But he was not content with such harmless monuments of insensate exultation ; he con- sidered the blow as final to the presbyterian cause, and openly set himself to effect the re- establishment of the idolatrous abominations of the mass and monkrie.
The Lord Perth and his brother, the Lord Melford, and a black catalogue of others, whose names, for the fame of Scotland, I would fain expunge with the waters of obli-
262 RINGAN GILIIAIZK.
vion, considering Religion as a tiling of royal regulation, professed themselves papists, and got, as the price of their apostacy and per- dition, certain places of profit in the govern- ment. Clouds of the papistical locust were then allured into the land, to eat it up leaf and blade
;in. Schools to teach children the deceits, and the frauds, and the sins of the Jesuits, were established even in the palace of Holyrood- honse ; and the chapel, which had been cleans- ed in the time of Queen Mary, was again de- filed with the pageantries of idolatry.
But the godly people of Edinburgh called to mind the pious bravery of their forefathers, and all that they had done in the Reforma- tion; and they rose, as it were with one accord, and demolished the schools, and purified the chapel, even to desolation, and forced the papist priest to abjure his own idols. The old abhorrence of the abominations was reviv- ed ; for now it was clearly seen what King Charles and his brother had been seeking.
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 263
in the relentless persecution which they had so long sanctioned ; and many in consequence, who had supported and obeyed the prelatic apostacv as a thing but of innocent forms, trembled at the share which they had taken in the guilt of that aggression, and their dis- may was unspeakable.
The tyrant, however, soon saw that he had over-counted the degree of the humiliation of the land ; and being disturbed by the union which his open papistry was causing among all denominations of protestants, he changed his mood, and from force resorting to fraud, publishing a general toleration, — a device of policy which greatly disheartened the prelatic faction; for they saw that they had only la- boured to strengthen a prerogative, the first effectual exercise of which was directed against themselves, every one discerning that the in- diligence was framed to give head-rope to the papists. But the Covenanters made use of it to advance the cause of the gospel, as I
2G4 aiNGAN GILHAIZE.
shall now proceed to rehearse, as weW as bow through it I was enabled to perform toy avenging vow.
Among the exiled Covenanters who rc- turned with Argyle, and with whom I became acquainted while with him, was Thomas Ardmillan, when, after mj escape at the time when the Karl was taken, I fell in again with at Kirkintilloch, a^ I was making tlu- besl ol my way into the East country, and went together to Arbroath, where he t-ui- barked for Holland.
Being then minded to return back to Edin- burgh, and to abide again with Mrs Brown- Lee, in whose house I had found a safe asy- lum, and a convenient place of espial, after
ing him on hoard the vessei, I also look shipping, and returned to Leith under an as- surance that I shonid hear of him from time to time. It was not, however, until the in- dulgence was proclaimed that I heard from him, about which era he wrote to me a most
1
RtNGAN GILHAIZE. 265
scriptural letter, by the reverend Mr Patrick Warner, who had received a call from the magistrates and inhabitants of the covenanted town ef Irvine, to take upon him the ministry of their parish.
Mr Warner having accepted the call, on arriving at Leith sent to Mrs RrownleeV this letter, with a request that, if I was alive and there, he would be glad to Bee me in his lodg- ing before departing to the West country-
As the fragrance of Mr Warner's sufferings \. m Bweet among all the true and faithful, I was much regaled with this invitation, and went forthwith to Leith, where I found him in a house that is clad with ovster-shells, in the Tod's-hole Close. Hi- u;i. sitting in a fair
chamber therein, with that worthy bailie that afterwards w ,; year, at the time of the
Revolution, Mr Cornelius Neilsone. and his no less excellent compeer on the same great occasion, Mr George Samsone, both persons of godly repute. Mr Cheyne, the town-clerk,
VOL. III. M
266 BINOAN GILHAIZE.
was likewise present, a most discreet character; but being a lawyer by trade, and conic- of an episcopal stock, he was rather a thought, it was said, inclined to the prclatic sect. Divers others, douce and religious characters, were also there, especially Mr Jaddua Fyfe, a mer- chant of women's gear, then in much renown for ln> suavity. Mr Warner was relating to them mam consolatorj things of the worth mil piety of the Prince and Princess of Orange, to whom the eyes of all the protestants, espe- cially of the presbyterians, were at that time directed.
• Aye, ave."" -aid Mr Jaddua Fyfe, " nae doot. nae doot, but the Prince- is a man of a sweet-smelling odour, — that's in the way of character; — and the Princess; aye, aye, it is well known, that she's a pure snowdrop, and a lily o" the valley in the Lord's garden, — that's in the way of piety.'"
• They're the heirs presumptive to the crown.'" subjoined Mr Chevne.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 267
" They're weel entitled to the reverence and respect of us a'," added Mr Cornelius Neilsone.
" When I first got the call from Irvine," resumed Air Warner. " that excellent lady, and precious vessel of godliness, the Coun- tess of Sutherland, being then at the Hague, sought my allowance to let the Princess know of my acceptance of the call, and to inquire if her Highness had any com- mands for Scotland ; and the Princess in a most gracious manner signified to her that the best thing I. ami those who were like me. could do for her, was to be earnest in pray- ing that she might be kept firm and faithful in the reformed religion, adding many tender things of her sincere sympathy for the poor persecuted people of Scotland, and recom- mending that I should wait on the Prince before taking my departure. I was not, how- ever, forward to thrust myself into such ho- nour ; but at last yielding to the exhortations
268 RINOAN (ilLHAlzi:.
of my friends, I went to the house of Myn- heer Bentinck, and gave him my me for .■in audience; and one morning, about eight of the clock, his servant called for me and took mc to his house, and he hiaaself conveyed aae into the presence of the Prince, where, leaving me with him, we had a most weighty and edifying conversation-*1
•• \\.. aye,*' interposed, Mr Jaddua Pyfe, ••it was a great thing to converse wi'a prince; and how did he behave himse), — that's in the wa\ <>* in. urn
•• Ye need na d< bate, Mr Fyfe, about th.it.'' replied Mr Samsone, "the Prince kena what it's i<> be civil, especially to his friends;* and I thought, in saying these words, that Mr Sam- sone looked particular towards me.
" And what passed .-"" said the town-clerk, m a way as it' he pawkily jealoused something. Mr Warner, however, in his placid and mini- ster-like mann< r, responded —
" I toltl his Highness how I had received
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 269
the call from Irvine, and thought it my duty to inquire it' there was any thing wherein I could serve him in Scotland.
" To this the Prince replied in a benign manner — "
" Aye, aye,r ejaculated Mr Jaddua Fyfe, " nae doubt it was in a benignant manner, and in a cordial manner. Aye, aye. he lias nae his ell-wand to seek when a customer's afore the counter, — that's in the way o* business.'1
" ' I understand,'1 said his Highness,'1 con- tinued Mr Warner, M< you are called home upon the toleration lately granted ; but I can assure you, that toleration is not granted for any kindness to your parte, but to favour the papists, and to divide you among yourselves ; ret I think you may be so wise a< to take good of it, and prevent the evil designed, and, in- stead of dividing, come to a better harmony among yourselves when you have liberty to see and meet more freely.1 n
" To which," said Mr "Warner, " I an-
270 KINGAN (ilLIIAIZE.
swered, that I heartily wished it might prove ml and that nothing would be wanting on my part to make it BO ; and I added, the prcsby- terians in Scotland, Great Sir. are looked upon as a verj despicable party ; but those who do so, measure them by the appearance at Pent- land and Bothwell, a> if the whole power of the presbyterians had been drawn out there; but I can assure your Highness thai such are greatly mistaken : for many firm presbyterians were not satisfied a> to the grounds and man- ner «'t' those risings, and did not join; and others were borne down by the Persecution. In verity I am persuaded, that it" Scotland
were left free, of three parts of the people two would be found piv-b\ U riaiis. We are
indeed a poor persecuted party, and have
none under God to look to for our help and relief but your Highness, on account of that re- lation you and the Princess have to the crown." " That was going a great length, Mr Warner,'' said Mr Chcyne, the town-clerk.
RINOAN GILHAIZE. 271
" No a bit, no a bit," cried I; and .Mi Jaddua Fy/e gave me an approving gloom, while Mr Warner quietly continued —
" I then urged many things, hoping that
the Lord would incline his Highness1 heart to espouse His interest in Scotland, and he- friend the persecuted presbyterians. To which the Prince replied —
" Aye, aye, I like to hear what his High- ness said, that's in the way of counselling,11 -aid Mr Jaddua Fyi'c.
" The Prince,'1 replied MrWarnjer, "then Spoke to me earnestly, saying —
" k I have been educated a presbvtei ian. and I hope so to continue ; and I assure you, if ever it be in my power, I shall make the presbyterian church-government the establish- ed church-government of Scotland, and of this you may assure your friends, as in pru- dence you find it convenient." "
Discerning the weight and intimation that were in these words, I said, when Mr Warner
272 RIKOAN GILHAIZE,
had eaade to end, that it was a great thing to know the Bentiment of the Prince ; for by all siifiis the time roulil not be far <>M' when we would maybe require t<> put ln^ assurance and promise to the test At which words of mine there were many exchanges of gathered brows and significant nods, and Mr Jaddua Fyfe, to whom I was sitting next, *lyly pinched me in the elbow; all which spoke plainer than elocution, that those present were accorded with me in opinion; and I gave inward thanks that mkIi a braird of renewed courage and zeal was begiiining to kithe among us.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 273
CHAP. XXIX.
Besides Mr 'Warner, niaiiv other ministers, who had taken refuge in foreign countries, were called home, and it began openly to be talked, that Kino James would to a surety be set aside, on account of his mal- versations in the kingly office in England, and the even-down course he was pursuing there, as in Scotland, to abolish all property that the Bubjects had in the ancient laws and charters of the realm. But the thing came to no definite head, till that jesnit-contrived de- vice for cutting out the protestant heirs to the crown was brought to maturity, by palming a man-child upon the nation as the lawful son of the Tyrant and his papistical wife.
In the meantime I had not been idle in dis- seminating throughout the land, by the means
m 2
874 HINTiAN OILHAIZE.
of the Cameronians, in faithful account of what Mr Warner had related of the pious character and presbyterian dispositions of the Pnnce of Orange'; and through a correspon- dence that I opened with Thomas Ardmillan, Mynheer Bentinck w;i> kept so informed of the growing affection for his master in
itland, as Boon emboldened the Prince, with uh.it he heard of the inclinations of the English people, to prepare a great host and navy for tin- deliverance of the kingdoms. In the midst of these human means and str.i-
_i ins. the bright right-hand of Providence \\a> shiningly visible; for by the news of she Prince's preparations It smote the councils <>\ Kins James with confusion and a fatal dis- traction.
Though he had so alienated the Scottish Lieges, that none hut the basest of men among
us acknowledged his authority, vet he sum- moned all his forces mto England, leaving
his power to be upheld here by those only
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 275
who were vile enough to wish for the con- es.
tinuance of slavery. Thus was the way clear- id for the* advent of the deliverer; and the faithful nobles and gentry of Scotland, as the army was removed, came flocking into Edin- burgh, and the Privy Council, winch had been so little slack in any crime, durst not molest them, though the purpose of their being there was a treason which the mem- bers could not hut all well know. Even thing, in a word, was now moving onward to a great event ; all in the land was as when the thaw comes, and the ice is breaking, and the snows melting, and the waters Mowing, and the rivers are bursting their frozen fet- ters, and the Bceptre of winter is broken, and the wreck of his domination is drifting and perishing away.
To keep the Privy Council in the confu- sion of the darkness of ignorance, I concert- ed with many of the Cameronians that they should spread themselves along the highways,
m 2
276 RINGAN GILHA1ZE.
and intercept the government expresses and
emissaries, to the end that neither the King's
faction in England nor in Scotland might
know aught of the undertakings of each other ;
and when Thomas Ardmillan sent me, from
Mynheer Bentinck, the Prince's declaration for
Scotland, I hastened into the West Country,
that I might exhort the covenanted there to
be in readiness, and from the tolbooth stair
of Irvine, yea <>u the very step where my
heart was so pierced by the cries of my son,
I was the first in Seotland to publish that
glorious pledge of our deliverance. On the
Bane day, at the same hour, the like was
done by (thcrs of our friends at Glasgow
and at Ayr; and there was shouting, and
joy, and thanksgiving, and the magnificent
voice of freedom resounded throughout the
land, and ennobled all hearts again with
bravery.
When the news of the Prince's landing at Torbay anived, we felt that liberty was
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 277
come ; but long oppression had made many distrustful, and from day to day rumours were spread "by the despairing members of the prelatic sect, the breathings of their wishes, that made us doubt whether we ought to band ourselves into any array for warfare. In this state of swithcrmg and incertitude we continued for some time, till I began to grow fearful lest the zeal which had been so rekindled would sink and go out if not stirred again in some effectual manner. So I con- ferred with Quintin Fullarton, who in all these providences had been art and part with me, from the clay of the meeting with Mr Renwiek near Laswaclc ; and as the Privy Council, when it was known the Prince had been invited over, had directed beacons to be raised on the tops of many mountains, to be fired as signals of alarum for the King's party when the Dutch fleet should be seen approaching the Coast, we devised, as a mean for calling forth the strength and spirit
278 RINGAN GILIJAIZK.
of the Covenantors, that we should avail our- selves of their preparation-.
Accordingly we instructed four alert ycnmg men, of the ( anuronian societies, severally and unknown to each other, to be in attend- ance on the night of the tenth of December at the Karons on the bills of Knockdolian, Lowthers, Blacklarg, and Bencairn, that tin \ might lire the same if need or signal should
require, Quintin Fullarton having under- taken to kindle the one on Mistylaw himself.
The night was dark, hut it was ordained that tin- air should he moist and h< md
in that state when the light of flame spreads farthest. Meanwhile fearful reports from
Ireland of papistical intents to maintain the
cause of King James made the fancies of
men awake and full of anxieties. The pre*ia- tu- curates were also so heartened by those rumours and tidings, that thev began to re- cover from the dismay with which the news of the Prince's landing had overwhelmed
G
RIXGAN GILHAIZE. 279
them, and to shoot out again the horns of antiehristian arrogance. But when, about three hours .after sunset, the beacon on the Mistvlaw was fired, and when hill after hill was lighted up, the whole country was filled with such consternation and panic, that I was myself smitten with the dread of some terrible consequencee. Horsemen passed furiously in all directions — bells were rung, and drums beat — mothers were seen Hying with their children they knew not whither — cries and lamentations echoed on every side. The ^kies wiii' kindled with a red glare, and none could tell where the signal was first shown. Some said the Irish had landed and were burning the towns in the south, and no one knew where to flee from the unknown and in- visible enemy.
In the meantime, our Covenanters of the West aasembled at their trysting-place, to the number of more than six thousand armed men. ready and girded for battle ; and this
280 RINGAM (ilLIIATZi:.
appearance was an assurance that no power was then in all the Lowlands able to gainsay such a force; and next day, when it was dis- covered* that the alarm had no real cause, it was determined that the prelatic priests should be openly discarded from their parishes. Our rengeance, however, was not meted upon them by the measure <>f our sufferings, but by the treatment which our own pastors had borne; and, considering how many of them had acted as spies an I accusers against us, it is surpris- ing, that of two hundred, who were banished from the parishes, few received any cause of complaint ; even the poor feckless thing An- drew Dornock was decently expelled from the UMBse of Quharist, on promising he would never return.
This riddance of the malignant* was the first fruit of the expulsion of James Stuart from the throne; but it was not long till we were menaced with new an I even greater suf- ferings than we had yet endured. For though
RINGAN GILHAIZE.
281
the tyrant had fled, he had left Claverhouse, under the title of Viscount Dundee, behind him ; and in the fearless activity of that proud and cruel warrior, there was an en- gine sufficient to have restored him to his absolute throne, as I shall now proceed to rehearse.
RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XXX
Till true and faithful of the West, l>\ the event recorded in the foregoing chapter, be* ing so instructed with respect t(> their own power and numbers, stood in n«' anv force that tin remnants of the Tyrant's t ami faction could afiord to send against them. I therefore resolved to return to Edin- burgh ; for the longing of my grandfather's spirit t<> see the current and course <>f public <\uit> flowing from tluir fountain-headj was upon me, and I had n.>t yet bo satisfied the \ i arningfl of justice as to be able to look again on the ashes <>t' my house and the tomb of Sarah Lochrig and her daughters. Accord- ingly, Boon after the turn of the year I went thither, where I found all things in uncer- tainty and commotion.
E1NOAN GILHAIZE. 283
Claverhouse, or, as be was now titled, Lord Dundee, with that Boon) of public opi- nion and defect of all principle, Bave only a canine fidelity, a dog's love, to his papistical master, domineered with his dragoons, as if he himself had been regnant monarch of Scot- land ; and it was plain and probable, that unless be was soon bridled, he would speedily act upon the wider stage of the kingdom the same Mahound-like part that be had played in the prenticeship of bis cruelties of the shire
of Ayr. The peril, indeed, from his eour-
age and activity, was made to me very evident, by a conversation that I had with one David Middleton, who had come from England on some business <>f the Jacobites there, in con- nexion with Dundee.
Providence led me to fall in with this per- son one morning, as we were standing among a crowd of other onlookers, Beeing Claverhouse reviewing his men in the front court of Holy- rood-house. I happened to remark, for in
284 RINGAN oiLIIAIZi;.
sooth it must be so owned, that the Viscount had a brave though a proud look, and that his voice had the inaulims> of one ordained to command.
'* Yes, replied David Middleton, " he's a horn soldier, and if the King is to be restor- ed, he is the man that will do it. When his Majesty was at Rochester, before going to France, I was there with my master, and beinjT called in to mend the lire, I heard Dundee and mv Lord, then with the King, discoursing concerning the royal affairs.
"' The question/ said Lord Dundee to his Majesty, ' is, whether yon shall stay in Eng- land or 00 to France? Mv opinion, sir, is, that you should Btay m England, make your stand here, and summon your subjects to your allegiance. "Tis true, you have disbanded vour army, hut give me leave, and I will un- dertake to get ten thousand men of it together, and march through all England with your standard at their head, and drive the Dutch
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 285
before you j1 and,11 added David Middleton, tv let him have time, and I doubt not, that, even without the King's leave, he will do as much."
Whether the man in this did brag of a knowledge that lie had not, the story seemed so likely, that it could scarcely be question- ed ; so I consulted with mv faithful friend and companion, Quintin Fullarton, and other men of weight among the Cameronians; and we agreed, that those of the societies who were scattered along the borders to intercept the correspondence between the English and Scottish Jacobites, should be called into Edin- burgh to daunt the rampageous insolence of C lav er house.
This was done accordingly ; and from the day that they began to appear in the streets, the bravery of those who were with him seemed to slacken. But still he carried him- self as boldly as ever, and persuaded the Duke of Gordon, then governor of the castle, not
286 RJNGAN QILHAIZB.
to surrender, nor obey any mandate from the Convention of the States, by whom, in that interregnum, the rule of the kingdom was ex- ercised. Still, however, the Cameronians wore coming in, and their numbers became bo mani- fest, that the dragoons were backward to show themselves. Hut their commander affected not to value u>, till one dai ;i singular thine look place, which, in n> issues, ended the over- awing influence of bis presence in Edinburgh.
I happened to be standing with Quintm Pullarton, and some four or five other Camer- onians, at an entry-mouth forenenl the Canon- gate-cross, when Claverhouse, and that tool of tyranny, Sir (ii ' tzie the advo-
cate, were coming upfront the palace; and u* the} passed, the Viscount looked hard at me, and said to Sir Geoi
■• I have somewhere seen that dome cur before.'1
Sir George turned round also to look, and I said —
RINCJAN GILIIAIZE. 287
•• Its true, Claverhouse, — we met at Drumclog ;"• and I touched my arm that he had wounded there, adding, " and the blood shed that d;iv Iki^ not yet been paid for."
At these words he made a rush upon me with his sword, hut mv friends were nimbler with theirs; and Sir George Mackenzie in- terposing, drew him off', and they went away together.
The affair, however, ended not here. Sir George, with the subtlety of a lawyer, tried to turn it to some account, and making a great ado of it. as a design to assassinate Lord Dun- dee and himself, tried to get the Convention to order all strangers to remove from the town. This, how ever, was refused : so that Claver- house, seeing how the spirit of the times was going among the members, and the boldness with which the Presbyterians and the Covenan- ters were daily bearding his arrogance, with- drew with his dragoons from the city, and made for Stirling.
288 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
In this retreat from Edinburgh he blew the trumpet of civil war; but in less than two hours from the signal, a regiment of eight hundred Camcronians was arrayed in the High-street. The son of Argyle, who had taken his seat in the Convention as a peer, soon after gathered three hundred of the Campbells, and the safety of Scotland now seemed to be secured by the arrival of Mack ay with three Scotch regiments, then in the Dutch service, and which the Prince of Orange had brought with him to Torbay.
By the retreat of Claverhouse the Jacobite party in Edinburgh were so disheartened, and any endeavour which they afterwards made to rally was so crazed with consterna- tion, that it was plain the sceptre had de- parted from their master. The capacity as well as the power for any effectual action was indeed evidently taken from them, and the ploughshare was driven over the ruins of their cause on the ever-memorable eleventh
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 289
day of April, when William and Mary were proclaimed King and Queen.
But though thus the oppressor was cast down from his throne, and though thus, in Scotland, the chief agents in the work of de- liverance were the outlawed Cameronians, as instructed by me, the victory could not be complete, nor the trophies hung up in the hall, while the Tyrant possessed an instrument of such edge and temper as Claverhouse. As for myself, I felt that while the homicide lived the debt of justice and of blood due to my martyred family could never be satisfied ; and I heard of his passing from Stirling into the Highlands, and the wonders he was work- ing for the Jacobite cause there, as if nothing had yet been achieved toward the fulfilment of my avenging vow.
vol. nr. N
290 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
CHAP. XXXI.
When Claverhouse left Stirling, he had but sixty horse. In little more than a month he was at the head of seventeen hundred men. He obtained reinforcements from Ireland. The Macdonalds, and the Camerons, and the Gordons, were all his. A vassal of the Mar- quis of Athol had declared for him even in the castle of Blair, and defended it against the clan of his master. An event still more strange was produced by the spell of his pre- sence,—the clansmen of Athol deserted their chief, and joined his standard. He kindled the hills in his cause, and all the life of the North was gathering around him.
Mackay, with the Covenanters, the regi- ments from Holland, and the Cameronians, went from Perth to oppose his entrance into
1
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 291
the Lowlands. The minds of men were sus- pended. Should he defeat Mackay, it was plain that the crown would soon be restored to James Stuart, and the woes of Scotland come again.
In that dismal juncture I was alone; for Quintin Fullarton, with all the Cameronians, was with Mackay.
I was an old man, verging on threescore.
I went to and fro in the streets of Edin- burgh all day long, inquiring of every stranger the news ; and every answer that I got was some new triumph of Dundee.
No sleep came to my burning pillow, or if indeed my eyelids for very weariness fell down, it was only that I might suffer the stings of anxiety in some sharper form ; for my dreams were of flames kindling around me, through which I saw behind the proud and exulting visage of Dundee.
Sometimes in the depths of the night I rushed into the street, and I listened with
292
RINOAN GILHAIZE.
greedy cars, thinking I heard the trampling of dragoons and the heavy wheels of cannon ; and often in the day, when I saw three or four persons speaking together, I ran towards them, and broke in upon their discourse with some wild interrogation, that made them an- swer me with pity.
But the haste and frenzy of this alarm sud- denly changed : I felt that I was a chosen in- strument ; I thought that the ruin which had fallen on me and mine was assuredly some great mystery of Providence : I remembered the prophecy of my grandfather, that a task was in store for me, though I knew not what it was ; I forgot my old age and my infirmi- ties ; I hastened to my chamber ; I put mo- ney in my purse ; I spoke to no one ; I bought a carabine ; and I set out alone to re- inforce Mackay.
As I passed down the street, and out at the West Port, I saw the people stop and look at me with silence and wonder. As I
RING AN GILHAIZE- 293
went along the road, several that were passing inquired where I was going so fast ? but I waived my hand and hurried by.
I reached the Queensferry without as it were drawing breath. I embarked ; and when the boat arrived at the northern side I had fallen asleep ; and the ferryman, in compas- sion, allowed me to slumber unmolested. When I awoke I felt myself refreshed. I leapt on shore, and went again impatiently on.
But my mind was then somewhat calmer ; and when I reached Kinross I bought a little bread, and retiring to the brink of the lake dipt it in the water, and it was a savoury repast.
As I approached the Brigg of Earn I felt age in my limbs, and though the spirit was willing the body could not ; and I sat down, and I mourned that I was so frail and so feeble. But a marvellous vigour was soon again given to me, and I rose refreshed from
294 KINGAN GILHAIZE.
my resting-place on the wall of the bridge, and the same night I reached Perth. I stop- ped in a stabler's till the morning. At break o£ day, having hired a horse from him, I hastened forward to Dunkeld, where be told me Mack ay had encamped the day he- fore, on hi- way to defend the pass of Killi- crankie.
The road was thronged with women and children Hocking into Perth in tenor of the Highlanders, but I heeded tliein not. I had but one thought, and that was to reach tin e of war and Claverho'
< )n arming at the ferry of Inver, the Held in front of the .Bishop of Dunkeld - hon.se, where the army had been encamped, was empty. Mackay had inarched towards Hlair-Athol, to drive Dundee and the High- landers, if possible, back into the glens and mosses of the North ; for he had learnt that his own force greatly exceeded his adver* sar\
RIXGAN GILHAIZE. l^95
On hearing this, and my horse being in need of bating, I halted at the ferry-house before crossing the Tay, assured by the boat- man that I should be able to overtake tin army long before it could reach the meeting of the Tummel and the Gary. And so it proved ; for as I came to that turn of the road where the Tummel pours its roaring waters into the Tay, I heard the echoing of a trumpet among the mountains, and soon after saw the army winding its toilsome eourse along the river's brink, slowly and heavily, as the chariots of Pharoah laboured through the sands of the Desert ; and the appearance of the long array was as the many-coloured woods that skirt the rivers in autumn.
On the right hand, hills, and rocks, and trees, rose like the ruins of the ramparts of some ancient world ; and I thought of the epochs when the days of the children of men were a thousand years, and when giants were on the earth, and all were swept away by the
296' RINGAN GILHAIZE.
flood ; and I felt as if I beheld the hand of the Lord in the cloud weighing the things of time in His scales, to sec if the sins of the world were indeed become again so great, as that the cause of Claverhouse should be suffer- ed to prevail. Tor my spirit was as a flame that blazeth in the wind, and my thoughts as the sparks that shoot and soar for a moment towards the skies with a glorious splendour, and drop down upon the earth in ashes.
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 297
CHAP. XXXII.
Gexeiial Mackay halted the host on a spa- cious green plain which lies at the meeting of the Tummel and the Gary, and which the Highlanders call Fascali, because, as the name in their tongue signifies, no trees are growing thereon. This place is the threshold of the Pass of Ivillicrankie, through the dark and woody chasms of which the impatient waters of the Gary come with lioarse and wrathful mutterings and murmurs. The hills and mountains around are built up in more olden and antic forms than those of our Low- land parts, and a wild and strange solemnity is mingled there with much fantastical beauty, as if, according to the minstrelsy of ancient times, sullen wizards and gamesome fairies
N 2
298 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
had joined their arts and spells to make a common dwelling-place.
As the soldiers spread themselves over the green bosom of Fascali, and piled their arms and furled their banners, and laid their drums on the ground, and led their horses to the river, the General sent forward a scout through the Pass, to discover the movements of Claverhouse, having heard that he WU coming from the castle of Blair-Athol, to pre- vent his entrance into the Highlands.
The officer sent to make the espial, had not been gone above half an hour, when he came back in great haste to tell that the Highland- ers were en the brow of a hill above the house of Rinroric, and that unless the Pass was im- mediately taken possession of, it would be mastered by Claverhouse that night.
Mackay, at this news, ordered the trumpets to sound, and as the echoes multiplied and repeated the alarum, it was as if all the spirits of the hills called the men to arms. The sol-
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 299
discs looked around as they formed their ranks, listening with delight and wonder at the universal bravery ; and I thought of the sight, which Elisha the prophet gave to the young man at Dothan, of the mountains covered with horses and chariots of fire, for his defence against the host of the King of Syria ; and I went forward with the confi- dence of assured victory.
As we issued forth from the Pass into the wide country, extending towards Lude and Blair-Athol, we saw, as the officer had re- ported, the Highland hosts of Claverhouse arrayed along the lofty brow of the mountain, above the house of Rinrorie, their plaids waving in the breeze on the hill, and their arms glittering to the sun.
Mackay directed the troops, at crossing a raging brook called the Girnaig, to keep along a flat of land above the house of Rin- rorie, and to form, in order of battle, on the field beyond the garden, and under the hill
300 RTNGAN OILHAIZB.
where the Highlanders were posted ; the bag- gage and camp equipages, he at the same time ordered down into a plain that lies be- tween the bank on the crown (.t' which the house stands ami the river Gary. An an- cient monumental stone in the middje of the lower plain shows, that in some elder age a battle had been fought there, and that some
warrior of might and fame had fallen.
In taking his ground on that elevated shelf of land. Mackay was minded to stretch hi- left wing to intercept the return of the High- lander.- towards Blair, and, if possible, oblige
them to inter the I\i — of Killicrankie, I>v which he would have cut them off from theii resources in the North, and so perhaps mas- tered them without anv great slaughter.
But Claverhouse discerned the intent of his movement, and before our covenanted host had formed their array, it was evident that be was preparing to descend ; and as a foretaste of the vehemence wherewith the
RINGAN GILHAIZE.
301
Highlandera were coming, we saw them roll- ing large stones to the brow of the hill.
In the meantime the house of Rinrorie hav- ing been deserted by die family, the lady, with her children and maidens, had fled to Lude or Struan, Mackay ordered a party to take possession of it, and to post themselves at the windows which look up the hill. I was among those who went into the house, and my station was at the eastermost window, in a small chamber which is entered by two doors, — the one opening from the stair-head, and the other from the drawing-room. In this situation we could see but little of the distribution of the army or the positions that .Mackay was taking, for our view was con- fined to the face of the hill whereon the High- landers were busily preparing for their de- scent. But I saw Claverhouse on horseback riding to and fro, and plainly inflaming their valour with many a courageous gesture ; and as he turned and winded his prancing war-
:J02 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
horse, his breastplate blazed to the setting sun like a beacon on the hill.
When he had seemingly concluded his ex- hortation, the Highlanders stooped forward, and hurled down the rocks which they had gathered lbr their forerunners ; and while the stones came leaping and bounding with a noise like thunder, the men followed in ♦hick and separate bands, and Mackav gave the signal to commence firing.
We saw from the windows many of the Highlanders, at the first volley, stagger and fall, but the others eanie furiously down; and before the soldiers had time to stick their bayonets into their guns, the broad swords of the Clansmen hewed hundreds to the ground.
Within a few minutes the battle was ge- neral between the two armies; but the smoke of the firing involved all the field, and m could see nothing from the windows. The echoes of the mountains raged with the din, and the sounds were multiplied by them in
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 303
so many different places, that we could not tell where the fight was hottest. The whole country around resounded as with the uproar of a universal battle.
I felt the passion of my spirit return ; I could no longer restrain myself, nor remain where I was. Snatching up my carabine, I left my actionless post at the window, and hurried down stairs, and out of the house. I saw by the flashes through the smoke, that the firing was spreading down into the plain where the baggage was stationed, and by this I knew that there was some movement in the battle ; but whether the Highlanders or the Covenanters were shifting their ground, I could not discover, for the valley was filled with smoke, and it was only at times that a sword, like a glance of lightning, could be seen in the cloud wherein the thunders and tempest of the conflict were raging.
iK)4 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
(HAT. XXXIII.
As I stood on the brow of the bank in front of Riiirorie-house, ■ gentle breathing of the evening air turned the smoke like the travel- lin^ mist of the hills, and opening it here and there, I had glimpses of the fighting. Sometimes I Ban the Highlanders driving the Covenanters down the steep, and Bometimes I beheld them in their turn on the ground endeavouring to protect their unbonnetted heads with tluir targets, but to whom the victory was to be given I could discern no lign; and I said to myself, the prize at hazard is the liberty of the land and the Lord; surely it shall not be permitted to the champion of bondage t<> prevail.
A stronger breathing of the gale came rush-
2
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 305
ing along, and the skirts of the smoke where the baggage Stood were blown aside, and I beheld many of the Highlanders among the waggons plundering and tearing. Then I heard a great shouting on the right, and look- ing that way, I saw the children of the Cove- nant fleeing in remnants across the lower plain, and making toward the river. Pre- sently I also saw Mackay with two regiments, all that kept the order of discipline, also in the plain. He had lost the battle. Claver- house had won; and the scattered firing, which was continued by a few, was to my ears as the rivetting of the shackles on the arms of poor Scotland for ever. My grief was unspeakable.
I ran to and fro on the brow of the hill — and I stampt with my feet — and I beat my brea-t — and I rubbed my hands with the frenzy of despair — and I threw myself on the ground — and all the sufferings of which I have written returned upon me — and I started up
306 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
and I cried aloud the blasphemy of the fool, " There is no God.'*
Hut scarcely had the dreadful words <.•>- caped my profane lips, when I heard, as it ware, thunders in the heavens, and the voice of an oracle crying in the ears of my soul, " The victory of this daj ia given into thy hands!" and strange wonder and awe fell upon me, and a mighty spirit entered into mine, and I felt a> if I was in that moment clothed with tin- armour of divine might.
I took up mv carabine, which in these transports had fallen from my hand, and I went round the gable of the house into the
rden — and I saw Claverhouse with several nf his officers coming along the ground by which our hosts had marched to their jx>-i- tion — and ever and anon turning round and exhorting his nun to follow him. It was evi- dent he was making for the Pass to intercept our scattered fugitives from escaping that way.
The garden in which I then stood was sur-
RINGAN GILIIAIZE. 307
k mnded by a low wall. A small goose-pool lay on the outside, between which and the garden I perceived that Clavcrhouse would pass.
I prepared my Hint and examined my fire- lock, and I walked towards the top of the garden with a firm step. The ground was buoyant to niv tread, and tin- vigour of vouth was renewed in my aged limbs : I thought that those for whom I had so mourned walk- id before me — that they smiled and beckoned me to come on, and that a glorious light shone around me.
Clavcrhouse was coming forward — several officers were near him, but his men were still a little behind, and seemed inclined to go down the hill, and he eluded at their reluc- tance. I rested my carabine on the garden- wall. I bent my knee and knelt upon the ground. I aimed and fired, — but when the smoke cleared away I beheld the oppressor still proudly on his war-horse.
I loaded again, again I knelt, and again
30S RINGAN GILHAIZE.
rested my carabine upon the wall, and fired a second time, and was again disappointed.
Then I remembered that I had Dot implor- ed the help of Heaven, and I prepared for the third time, and when all was ready, and Claverhouse was coming forward, I took off niv bonnet, and kneeling with the gun in my hand, cried, " Lord, remember David and all his afflictions;11 and having so prayed, I took aim as I knelt, and Claverhouse raising his arm in command, I fired. In the same moment I looked up, and there was a vision in the air as if all the angels of brightness, and the martyrs in their vestments of glory, were assembled on the walls and battlements of heaven to witness the event, — and I started up and cried, " I have delivered my native land !" But in the same instant I remembered to whom the glory was due, and falling again on my knees, I raised my hands and bowed my head as I said, " Not mine, 0 Lord, but thine is the victory !"
RINGAN GILHAIZE. 309
When the smoke rolled away I beheld Clavcrhouse in the arms of his officers, sink- ing from his horse, and the blood flowing from a wound between the breast-plate and the arm- pit. The same night he was summoned to the audit of his crimes.
It was not observed by the officers from what quarter the summoning bolt of justice came, but thinking it was from the house, every window was instantly attacked, while I delibe- rately retired from the spot, — and, till the protection of the darkness enabled me to make my escape across the Gary, and over the hills in the direction I saw Mackay and the rem- nants of the flock taking, I concealed myself among the bushes and rocks that overhung the violent stream of the Girnaig.
Thus was my avenging vow fulfilled, — and thus was my native land delivered from bond- age. For a time yet there may be ru- mours and bloodshed, but they will prove as the wreck which the waves roll to the shore
310 RINGAN GILHAIZE.
after a tempest. The fortunes of the papistical Stuarts are foundered forever. Never again in thi> land shall any king, of his own caprice and prerogative, dare to violate theconsciem ■■ of the people.
Quhariit, 5th \ iG96.
POSTSCRIPT
It does not seem to be, as yet, very generally understood by the critics in the South, that, independently of phraseology, there is such an idiomatic difference in the structure of the na- tional dialects of England and Scotland, that very good Scotch might be couched in the purest English terms, and without the employ- ment of a single Scottish word.
In reviewing the Memoirs of that worshipful personage, Provost Pawkie, some objection has been made to the style, as being neither Scotch nor English, — not Scotch, because the words are English, — and not English, because the forms of speech are Scottish. What has been thus regarded as a fault by some, others acquainted with the peculiarities of the language may be led to consider as a beauty.
P0S1 3< RIPT.
Hut however proper the Scottish dialect may have been in a composition bo local at Thi I'uci it may !>«• urged, tint, in ■ work Kke
the present, where something of a historical character i- attempted, the Ei glish langn would have been ■ more » 1 1 un i < •«-« 1 vehicle. Win
>iuu 1<I be K i- in it \i-r\ cil>\ ii»i< ; at ;ill .
the Author thinks the style he has adopted, in pxpreasinf <l feelii cm
urhl not t.i 1).- objected t<> in point of good Should tin- objection, however, !><• ma In- baa an mtwer in the words of the i ted
1 • • —
It happened one daj i in
. |
sador Iron Charles V. t<> the Republic
nonstrated w ith tl n-t In- br
.iikI coarse pencilling, so unlike the deli< touches of tli- •>»' tli.it time : — " H
nor, ' • Titian, " yo dew de Ucpnr a
la delioadeaa y primor del pinzel <!«• Michael Angelo, I rhino. Corregio, \ P 10, j que
quando bien IK-l'-i--' ' mado tr.i~ ellos
POSTSCRIPT. 313
trnidopor imitador dellos ; y la ambicion natural, no BMDM i mi Arte que a las otra-. me hizo cchar por camino nuevo, que me hiziesse cclebrc en algo, como los otrtM li> rueron par el que tag-
nieron."
Another misconception also prevails in the South, with reaped to the Scottish political cha- racter. From the time of the North Briton of the unprincipled Wilkes, ■ notion has been en- tertained that the moral spine in Scotland ia more flexible than in England. The truth how- ever i-. thai an elementary difference exists in the public feelings of the two nation- quite as it as in the idiom- of their respective dia- lects. The English are a justice-loving people, according to charter and statute ; the Scotch a wrong-resenting race, according to right and feeling: and the character of liberty am them takes it- aspect from that peculiarity.
i onel Stewart, in bis curious and complete work on the Highlands, has shown, that even the elans, among whom the doctrines and affec- tions of hereditary right art- still cherished more
\ n!.. 111. O
51 * POSTSCRIPT.
than ever they were in England at any period, hold themselves tree to change their chieftains. It is so with the nation in general. Monarchy is an indestructible principle in our notions of civil government ; and though we anciently ex- ercised the right of changing our kings pretty freely, Cromwell found it necessary to overrun the kingdom with an army to obtain the grudged acquiescence which was yielded to the Anglo-
Republican phantasy of his time. But in our
natural attachment to monarchy and its various gradations, and in the homages which we in con- sequence freely perform, it does not follow that there should be any unmanly humility. On the contrary, servile loyalty is Comparatively rare anions BS, and it was in England that the Stuarts fast iiauki) to broach the doctrine of the divine right of Icings.
The two moat important public documents ex- tant show the difference between the national cha- racter of the Scotch and of the English people in a very striking light. In dictating Magna Charta to the tyrant John, the English barons implied.
POSTSCRIPT. 315
that if he observed the conditions,, they would obey him in all things else. But the Scottish nobles, in their Remonstrance to the Pope, de- clared, that they considered even their great and glorious Robert Bruce to be on his good behaviour.
The Remonstrance not being generally known, a translation is subjoined, of the time of Ringan Gilhaize — the sacred original is in the Register Office.
TRANSLATION.
To our most holy Father in Christ, and our Lord, John, by the divine providence, Chief Bishop of the most Holy Roman and Universal Church, your humble and devoted sons, Duncan Earl of Fyfe, Thomas Randolph Earl of Mur- ray, Lord Mannia and Annandale, Patrick de Dumbar Earl of March, Malisius Earl of Strath- ern, Malcolm Earl of Lennox, William Earl of Ross, Magnus Earl of Caithness and Orkney, William Earl of Sutherland, Walter Steward of
316 POSTSCRIPT.
- otland, William de Soules Buttelarius of Scotland, James Lord Douglas, Roger de Movf- bray, David Lord Brechin, David de (Jrahame, [ngleramus de Umfraville, John de Monteith Warder <>t' the county <>f Monteith, Alexander Frazer, Gilbert de Hay Constable of Scotland, Robert de Keith Marishal of Scotland, Henry de Sancto Claro, John de Graham, David i\r Ljndsay, William OJiphant, Patrick de Graham, .John de Kenton, William tie Abernethie, David de.Weyms, William de Monto fixo, Fergus de Ardrossan, Eustachiui de Maxwel, William de Ramsay, William de Monte-alto, Allan de Mur- ray, Donald Campbel, John Camhurn, Reginald
le Chene, Alexander de Seton, Andrew de Les- celyne, and Alexander Straton, and the rest of the Barons and Freeholders, and whole ( ommu-
nitv, or Commons of the kingdom of Scotland. send all manner of Filial Reverence, with devout kisses of your blessed and happy feet.
Most holy Father and Lord, we know and gather from ancient Act- and Records, that in every famous nation, this of Scotland hath been
POSTSCRIPT. 317
celcbrat with many praises : this nation having come from Scythia the greater, through the Tuscan Sea, and by Hercules Pillars, and having for many ages taken its residence in Spain in the midst of a most fierce people, could never be brought in subjection by any people, how barbarous soever : And having removed from those parts, above 1200 years after the coming bf the Israelites out of Egypt, did by many victories and much toil, obtain the parts in the West, which they still possess, having expelled the Britons, and intirely rooted out the Picts, notwithstanding of the frequent assaults and in- vasions they met with from the Norwegians, Danes, and English ; and these parts and pos- sessions they have always retained free from all manner of servitude, and subjection, as ancient histories do witness.
This kingdom hath been govern'd by an unin- terrupted succession of 113 kings, all of our own native and royal stock, without the intervening of any stranger.
The true nobility and merits of these our
o2
818 POSTSCRIPT.
princes and people are very remarkable, from this one consideration, (tho' there were no other evidence lor it.) that the Kin;? of kings, the Lord Jtott Christ, after bis pas wee and re-urrection, honored them as it were the first (though living in the utmost end- of the eaiih,) with a call to his most holy Faith: neither would our Saviour have them confirmed in the Christian Faith, by any other instrument than his own first Apostle (tho' in order the second or third.) St Andrew. the most worthy brother of the blessed Peter. WTMBQ he would always have to be ever us, as our patron or protector.
Upon the weighty consideration of these things, the most holy Fathers your predecessors did, with many great and singular favours and privileges, truce and sec ure this kingdom and people, as being the peculiar charge and care of the brother of St Peter ; SO that our nation hath hitherto lived in freedom and quietness under their pro- tection, till the magnificent King Edward, father to the present king of England, did under the colour of friendship, and allyance, or confedera-
POSTSCRIPT. 319
cie, with innumerable oppressions, infest us who minded no fraud or deceit, at a time when we were without a king or head, and when the people were unacquainted with wars and inva- sions. It is impossible for any whose own ex- perience hath not informed him to describe, or fully to understand, the injuries, blood, and violence, the depredations and fire, the imprison- ments of prelates, the burning, slaughter, and robberie committed upon holy persons and reli- gious houses, and a vast multitude of other bar- barities, which that king execute on this people, without sparing of any sex, or age, religion, or order of men whatsoever.
But at length it pleased God, who only can lieal after wounds, to restore us to libertie, from these innumerable calamities, by our most Se- rene Prince, King and Lord, Robert, who for the delivering of his people and his own rightful inheritance from the enemies hand, did, hke another Josua, or Maccabeus, most cheerfully undergo all manner of toyle, fatigue, hardship, and hazard. The Divine Providence, the right
320 POSTSCRIPT.
of succession by the laws and customs of the kingdom (which we will defend till death,) and the due and lawful consent, and assent of all the people, made him our king and prince. To him we are obliged and resolved to adhere in all things, both upon the account of his right and his own merit, as being the person who hath restored the people's Bafety, in defence of their liberties But after all, if this prince shall leave the principles he hath BO nobly pursued, and consent that we or our kingdom be subjected to the king or the people of England, \s e will im- mediately endeavour to expel him, as our enemy, and as the Bubverter both of his own and our rights, and will make another king, who will defend our liberties : for, so long as there shall but one hundred of us remain alive, we will never subject ourselves to the dominion of the English. For it is not glory, it is not riches, neither is it honour, but it is libertie alone that we fight and contend for, which no honest man will lose but with his life.
For these reasons, most Reverend Father and
5
POSTSCRIPT. 321
Lord, we do with most earnest prayers, from our bended knees and hearts, beg and entreat your Holiness, that you may be pleased with a sincere and cordial piety to consider, that with Him, whose Vicar on earth you are, there is no respect nor distinction of Jew nor Greek, Scots nor English, and that with a tender and fatherly eye you may look upon the calamities and straits brought upon us and the Church of God by the English, and that you may admonish, and ex- hort the king of England (who may well rest satisfied with his own possessions, since that kingdom of old used to be sufficient for seven or more kings) to suffer us to live at peace in that narrow spot of Scotland, beyond which we have no habitation, since we desire nothing but our own ; and we on our parts, as far as we are able, with respect to our own condition, shall effectually agree to him in every thing that may procure our quiet.
It is your concernment, most Holy Father, to interpose in this, when you see how far the vio- lence and barbarity of the Pagans is let loose
3i2:2 POSTS< RIPT.
against Christendom for punishing of the >ins of the Christians, and how much they dayly en- croach opoh the Christian Territories : And it y<mr interest to notice, that there be no ground given for reflecting on your memory, if you should Buffer any part of the church t<> eome under a scandal or eclipse (which we pray God may prevent) during your time.
Let it therefore please your Holiness, to ex- hort the Christian princes, r.<>t t<> make- the wars l>rt\\i\t them and tluir neighbours a pretext for not going to the relief of the Holy Land, since that is not die true cause of the impediment: The truer ground ot* it is, that they have a much nearer prospect of advantage, and tar less oppo- sition, in thr subduing of their weaker neigh- hour-. And God (who i- ignorant of nothing] know-, with how much cheerfulness both our king ami we would go thither, if the king of England would leave us in peace, as we do herein- testify and deelare to the Vicar of Christ, and to all Christendom,
But, if your Holiness shall be too credulous of
POSTSCRIPT. 323
the English misrepresentations, and not give firm credit to what we have said, nor desist to favour the English to our destruction, we must believe that the Most High will lay to your charge all the blood lo*t of souls, and other calamities that shall follow on either hand, betwixt us and them.
Your Holiness in granting our ju^t de>; will oblige us in everie case, where our dutie shall require it, to endeavour your satisfaction, as becomes the obedient sons of the Vicar of Christ.
We commit the defence of our cause to hi in who is the Sovereign King and Judge ; we cast the burden of our cares upon him, and hope for such an issue as may give strength and courage to us, and bring our enemies to nothing. The Most High God long preserve your Serenity and Holiness to his holy Church.
Given at the Monasterie of Aberbrothock in Scotland, the sixth day of April, in the year of Grace M.CCCXX. and of our said king's reign, the XV. year.
THE END.
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