Ringan Gilhaize : or, The covenanters

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.

EDINBURGH :

rRINTED BT OLIVEIl \ BOYD,

HIGH STREET.

This booK is DUE on the last
date stamped below

«L

B

10m-4,'28

3 1158 00478 9482

UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY

AA 000 373 677 4

of CALIFORNIA

JMGELES

fJRRAKY