A.D. 1676-1677.
Remarkable sacramental solemnities occasion harsher measures—Council new
modelled—Committee for public affairs—Kerr of Kersland—Kirkton—The
expatriated pursued to Holland—Colonel Wallace.
Political power, combined with ecclesiastical, essentially forms a broad
basis for the most excruciating tyranny, especially in spiritual
matters, which admits of no medium between implicit obedience or cruel
constraint. Accordingly, we always find, after some of those hallowed
seasons in which the persecuted had been able to elude the vigilance of
their oppressors, and had experienced them to be indeed times of
refreshing from on high, that immediately some new and more violent
proclamation followed, attempting, had it been possible, to have
interdicted their sacred intercourse with heaven. Thus, the sacrament of
the Lord’s Supper having been longed for by many of those in the west
who could not receive it at the hands of the incumbents of their
parishes, several ministers resolved to celebrate it at different
places, which was accordingly done with peculiar solemnity, under the
covert of night, to numerous assemblages in the parish of Kippen,
Stirlingshire; at the House of Haggs, near Glasgow; and in a barn at
Kennyshead, parish of Eastwood; and it was remarked that the Lord very
much owned these communions as sweet sealing ordinances; but no sooner
were these doings whispered abroad, than a former proclamation against
conventicles was repeated, of more extensive comprehension, and imposing
a heavier penalty on every heritor in the land on whose estate they
should be held. Several council-committees were appointed to perambulate
the country, in order to enforce a vigorous execution of the extra-legal
mandates. This they did by requiring a number of respectable gentlemen
and ministers, whom they called before them, to declare upon oath what
conventicles they had attended since the year 1674, what number of
children they had seen baptized, and whether they had reset or harboured
any intercommuned persons. Those who appeared were fined in various
sums, according to their circumstances, from fifty merks to a thousand
pounds Scots. In this iniquitous inquisition, silence was construed into
contempt; and to refuse, what no human law has a right to require,
becoming one’s own accuser, was punished even more severely than an
acknowledgment of default.
At the same time, the council was new modelled. The primate was
appointed president in absence of the Chancellor, and the two
archbishops with any third creature of their own, formed a quorum of
“the committee for public affairs,” who assumed the entire management of
ecclesiastical matters, then the chief if not the whole of public
business. Perhaps the most detestable feature in the proceedings of this
execrable committee was the system of espionage they carried into
private life. An example will best illustrate the remark. Robert Kerr of
Kersland having been forced to go abroad with his family, his lady
returned to Scotland to arrange some little private business. He
followed secretly, and to his great grief found her sick of a fever when
he arrived, yet durst not lodge in the same house, but was wont to visit
her stealthily in the evenings. Robert Cannon of Mardrogat, a base spy,
who hypocritically attended the secret meetings of the persecuted, at a
time when he knew Kersland would be waiting on his sick lady, made
application to Lauderdale for a warrant to apprehend Mr John Welsh,
represented as then keeping a conventicle in her chamber. A friend of
her’s who was with the Commissioner when he received the information,
assured him that it was false, as she knew that Lady Kersland was very
unwell. The warrant, however, was granted, but with express instructions
from Lauderdale that the sick lady should not be disturbed if no
conventicle appeared in the house.
A party came—there was no conventicle—and they were departing; but the
reptile informer had told one of them that when any strangers came into
the room, Kersland was wont to secrete himself behind the bed. He,
accordingly, stepped direct to the place, and drawing the gentleman from
his concealment, ordered him to surrender his arms. Kersland told him he
had no arms but the Bible—the sword of the Spirit—which he presented to
him. He was immediately made prisoner. When led away, his wife displayed
great composure, and besought him to do nothing that might wound his
conscience out of regard for her or her children, repeating earnestly as
he left her—“No man having put his hand to the plough, and looking back,
is fit for the kingdom of God.”
Before the council, he undauntedly defended the patriotic “rising” at
Pentland, as a lawful effort in defence of their liberties; on which he
was immediately ordered to prison. When being carried off, the
Chancellor sneeringly asked him what it was his lady said to him at
parting? He replied “he did not exactly remember.” “Then I will refresh
your memory—she exhorted you to cleave to the good old cause;—ye are a
sweet pack!” He was after this imprisoned in different jails for several
years, till at last, being ordered into close confinement in Glasgow
tolbooth, to be kept there during the archbishop’s pleasure, who had a
personal dislike at him, a dreadful fire most opportunely broke out in
the town, which threatening the prison, the populace with instinctive
humanity released all the inmates; and Kersland among the rest regained
his liberty.[85] He then went to Holland, the common asylum for
Protestant sufferers, and died at Utrecht, in November 1680.
Footnote 85:
“Nov. 3, 1677. The fire brake up in Glasgow in the heid of the
Salt-mercat, on the right, near the cross, which was kyndled by a
malicious boy, a smith’s apprentice, who being threatened, or beatt
and smittin by his master, in revenge whereof setts his work-house on
fyre in the night-tyme, being in the backsides of that forestreet, and
flyes for it. It was kyndled about one in the morning; and having
brunt many in the backsyde, it breaks forth in the fore streets about
three of the morning; and then it fyres the street over against it,
and in a very short tyme burned down to more than the mids of the
Salt-mercat; on both sydes fore and back houses were all consumed. It
did burn also on that syd to the Tron Church, and two or three
tenaments down on the heid of the Gallowgate. The heat was so great,
that it fyred the horologe of the tolbooth (there being some prisoners
it at that tyme, amongst whom the Laird of Carsland was one, the
people brake open the tolbooth-doors and sett them free); the people
made it all their work to gett out their goods out of the houses; and
there was little done to save houses till ten of the cloke, for it
burnt till two hours afternoon. It was a great conflagration and
nothing inferior to that which was in the yeir 1652. The wind changed
several tymes. Great was the cry of the poor people, and lamentable to
see their confusion. It was remarkable that a little before that tyme,
there was seen a great fyre pass through these streets in the
night-tyme, and strange voices heard in some parts of the city.”
_Law’s Memorials_, p. 135.
Perhaps a more flagrant and vexatious example of the harassment to which
honest individuals were then exposed can scarcely be given, than that of
the venerable Kirkton the historian. He was walking along the High
Street of Edinburgh at mid-day, in the month of June, when—but we shall
let him tell his own tale—“he was very civilly accosted by a young
gentleman, Captain Carstairs, attended by another gentleman and a
lackey. Carstairs desyred to speak a word with him, to which he answered
he would wait upon him; but because he knew not to whom he spake, he
quietly asked the other gentleman (James Scott of Tushiclaw) who this
young gentleman might be; but Scott answered with silence and staring.
Then Mr Kirkton perceived he was prisoner among his enemies, but was
very glade they carried him to a private house, and not to the prison,
which they were very near; but they carried him to Carstairs’ chamber,
ane ugly dark hole, in Robert Alexander, messenger, his house. As soon
as ever he was brought into the house, Carstairs abused him with his
tongue, and pusht him till he got him into his own chamber, which made
the people of the house weep. After he hade got him into his ugly
chamber, he sent away Scott and Douglass, his lackey, (as Mr Kirkton
supposed) to fetch his companions; but as soon as they were alone, Mr
Kirkton askt him what he meant? what he would doe with him? Carstairs
answered, sir, you owe me money. Mr Kirkton askt him whom he took him to
be, denying he owed him any thing. Carstaires answered, are not you John
Wardlaw? Mr Kirkton denied, telling him who he was indeed. Then
Carstaires answered, if he were Mr Kirkton he hade nothing to say to
him. Mr Kirkton askt him who he was. He answered he was Scott of
Erkletone, whom indeed he did much resemble, but spoke things so
inconsistent, Mr Kirkton knew not what to think; for if Carstaires had
designed to make him prisoner, he might easily have done it before. But
after they hade stayed together about half an hour, Mr Kirkton begane to
think Carstaires desired money, and was just beginning to make his offer
of money to Carstaires, when Jerviswood, Andrew Stevenson, and Patrick
Johnston came to the chamber-door, and called in to Carstaires, asking
what he did with a man in a dark dungeon, and all alone? Mr Kirkton
finding his friends come, tooke heart. ‘Now,’ sayes Mr Kirkton to
Carstaires, ‘there be some honest gentlemen at your door, who will
testifie what I am, and that I am not John Wardlaw; open the door to
them.’ ‘That will I not,’ sayes Carstaires, and with that layes his hand
on his pocket-pistoll; which Mr Kirkton perceiving, thought it high time
to appear for himself, and so clapt Carstaires closs in his armes; so
mastering both his hands and his pistoll, they struggled a while in the
floor; but Carstaires being a feeble body, was borne back into a corner.
The gentlemen without hearing the noise, and one crying out of murther,
burst quickly the door open (for it hade neither key nor bolt,) and so
entered, and quietly severed the stragglers, tho’ without any violence
or hurt done to Carstaires.
“As soon as Mr Kirkton and the gentlemen had left Carstaires alone,
Scott, his companion, came to him, and they resolved not to let it goe
so, but to turn their private violence into state service; and so to
Hatton they goe with their complaint; and he upon the story calls all
the lords of the councill together, (tho’ they were all at dinner,) as
if all Edinburgh hade been in armes to resist lawfull authority, for so
they represented it to the councill: and he told the councill when they
were conveened that their publick officers hade catcht a fanatick
minister, and that he was rescued by a numerous tumult of the people of
Edinburgh. The councill tryed what they could, and examined all they
could find, and after all could discover nothing upon which they could
fasten. Mr Kirkton hade informed his friends that it was only a reall
robbery designed, and that indeed money would have freed him, if
Carstaires and he hade finished what he begune to offer; and the
councill could find no more in it, and so some councillors were of
opinion. But Bishop Sharpe told them that except Carstaires were
encouraged, and Jerviswood made ane example, they needed never think a
man would follow the office of hunting fanaticks; and upon this all
those who resolved to follow the time and please bishops, resolved to
give Sharpe his will. So the next councill-day, after much high and hot
debate in the councill, Jerviswood was fyned 9000 merks—[£562. 10s.
sterling, a grievous sum in those days]—(3000 [£187. 10s.] of it to be
given to Carstaires for a present reward;) Andrew Stevenson was fyned
1500 merks [£92. 15s.]; and Patrick Johnston in 1000 [£62. 10s.]; and
all three condemned to ly in prison till Mr Kirkton was brought to
relieve them.”
It would be difficult to find language to designate this transaction.
Kirkton further informs us that it occasioned “great complaining,” and
“all the reason the councill gave of their severe sentence was, that
they found Jerviswood guilty of resisting authority by Captain
Carstaires’ production of his warrand before the councill. But this did
not satisfie men of reason; for, first, it was thought unaccountable
that a lybell should be proven by the single testimony of ane infamous
accuser against the declaration of three unquestionable men, and all the
witnesses examined. Next, Carstaires’ producing a warrand at the
councill table, did not prove that he produced any warrand to
Jerviswood, and, indeed, he produced none to him, because he had no
warrand himself at that time; as for the warrand he produced, it was
writ and subscribed by Bishop Sharpe after the deed was done, tho’ the
bishop gave it a false date long before the true day.” What infuriated
the council, was the deep interest the inhabitants of Edinburgh took in
this foul business; when it came before them, the passages to the
Council-chamber were crowded with anxious inquirers; and it was debated
at the council-board, whether all who were in the lobby should be
imprisoned or not?—it was decided not, only by one voice.
[1677.] Prelatic inveteracy was not, however, bounded by Scotland, it
pursued into other countries those who found among foreign Protestants
that freedom of conscience denied them at home. Messrs Robert Macwaird
and Mr John Brown, two eminent ministers, who had sought refuge in
Holland, having been requested by the other Scottish refugees to
exercise their sacred function among them at Rotterdam, the
states-general were instantly required by Charles to dismiss them from
their territories; and, in order to escape a war with England, were
forced to comply with the tyrant’s demand, yet not till they had
afforded their respected guests an opportunity of disposing of their
effects to the best advantage and looking out for another asylum.
The persevering rancour of Charles, and the reluctance of the states,
occasioned a protracted discussion of two days in their senate; and Sir
William Temple declared that it had been the hardest piece of
negotiation he had ever entered upon. Its issue was productive of a
nobler and more durable testimony to the worth of the persecuted exiles,
than could otherwise have been procured, and will hand down to posterity
the everlasting remembrance of these righteous men, while the memory of
the worthless monarch shall rot. The states entered on their record a
resolution, importing that “the foresaid three Scotsmen have not only
behaved and comported themselves otherwise than as became good and
faithful citizens of these states, but have also given many indubitable
proofs of their zeal and affection for the advancement of the truth,
which their High Mightinesses have seen with pleasure, and could have
wished that they could have continued to live here in peace and
security.” Besides which, each received a separate testimonial on their
departure. The following is a copy of the one put into the hands of
Colonel Wallace:—“The States-General of the United Netherlands, to all
and every one who shall see or read these presents, health: Be it known
and certified that James Wallace, gentleman, our subject, and for many
years inhabitant of this state, lived among us highly esteemed for his
probity, submission to the laws, and integrity of manners. And therefore
we have resolved affectionately to request, and hereby do most earnestly
request, the Emperor of the Romans, and all Kings, Republics, Princes,
Dukes, States, Magistrates, or whomsoever else our friends, and all that
shall see these presents, that they receive the said James Wallace in a
friendly manner whenever he may come to them, or resolve to remain with
them, and assist him with their council, help, and aid; testifying, that
for any obliging, humane, or kindly offices done to him, we shall be
ready and forward to return the favour to them and their subjects
whensoever an opportunity offers. For the greater confirmation whereof,
we have caused these presents to be sealed with our seal of office, and
signed by the President of our Assembly, the sixth day of the month of
February, in the year one thousand six hundred and seventy-seven.”
Colonel Wallace was afterwards forced to lurk about the borders of
France or the Netherlands, whence he addressed to “the Lady Caldwell,
widow of William Mure of Caldwell,” the following letter, which I give
as a specimen of the seditious correspondence he was accused of holding
with the fanatics:—
“ELECT LADY AND MY WORTHIE AND DEAR SISTER,—Your’s is come to my
hand in most acceptable tyme. It seems that all that devils or
men these many years have done (and that has not been lytle)
against yow, to dant your courage, or to make yow, in the
avoweing of your master and his persecuted interests, to loore
your sailes hes prevailed so lytle, that your fayth and courage
is upon the groweing hand, ane evidence indeed to your
persecuters of perdition, bot to yow of salvation, and that of
God. It seems when yow at first by choyce tooke Christ by the
hand to be your Lord and portion, that yow wist what yow did;
and that notwithstandeing all the hardnesses yow have met with
in bydeing by him, your heart seems to cleave the faster to him.
This sayes yow have been admitted into much of his company and
fellowship. My sowle blesses God on your behalf who hath so
caryed to yow, that I think yow may take those words, amongst
others, spoken to you—‘Yow have continued with me in my
aflictions; I appoint unto yow a kingdom.’ It seems suffering
for Christ, loseing any thing for him, is to yow your glory—is
to yow your gayn. More and more of this spirit maye yow enjoye,
that yow may be among the few (as it was said of Caleb and
Joshua) that followed him fullie—among the overcomers, those
noble overcomers, mentioned Revel. ii. and iii.—among those to
whom only (as pickt out and chosen for that end) he is sayeing,
‘Yow are my witnesses.’ Lady and my dear sister, I am of your
judgement; and I blesse his name that ever he counted me worthie
to appear in that roll. It is now a good many years since the
master was pleased to even me to this, and to call me forth to
appear for him; and it is trew these fortie years bygone (as to
what I have mett with from the world) I have been as the people
in the wilderness; yet I maye saye it to this howre, I never
repented my ingadgements to him, or any of my owneings of him;
yea, these rebutes to say so I gott from men, wer to me my joye
and crowne, because I know it was for his sake I was so dealt
with; and this, it being for his sake, I was ready in that case
(as Christ sayes) when men had taken me upon the one cheek for
his sake, to turn to them the other also. Never was I admitted
to more neerness, never was my table better covered, then since
I left Rotterdam. Let us take courage and goe on as good
soldiers of Jesus Christ, endureing hardnes. O for more fayth! O
for more fayth among his people! As to this people, there is
nothing to be seen in their waye that is promiseing of any good;
bot on the contrar. O! I feare the Lord hes given them up unto
their owne heart’s lusts. They doe indeed walke in their owne
counsels. That same spirit of persecution, and these same
principles, that are among you, are heir; bot as God is
faythfull, they shall be all brocken to pieces and turned backe
with shame that hate Zion. Wayt but a lytle; they are diggeing
the pit for themselves. The Lord hath founded Zion, and the
poore of the people shall trust in it. Let us mynd one another.
My love to all friends whom yow know I love in the Lord. God’s
grace be with yow, and his blessing upon your lytle ones whom he
hath been a father to. In him I rest. Your’s as formerly.
“JA. WALLACE.”
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