JANUARY TO JUNE, A.D. 1679.
Public teachers and students required to take the oath of supremacy—A
boy imprisoned for refusing—Husbands punished for their wives’
contumacy—Landlords for their tenants—Overtures of the
council—Country put under military law—Reprisals—Outrages of the
commissioners of shires—Death of Sharpe—Escape of Veitch—Murder of
Inchdarnie.
Early in the beginning of the next year, (January 2, 1679,) the council
instructed the Archbishop of St Andrews and the Bishops of Edinburgh and
Aberdeen, to call before them the principals, professors, and other
office-bearers of their respective Universities, and also all the
masters of the public schools within their boundaries, and require them
to subscribe the oaths of allegiance and supremacy, and the declaration
owning the government of the church by archbishops and bishops, and its
establishment; which Mr Alexander Dickson, professor of the Hebrew
language in the College of Edinburgh, Mr Heriot, teacher in the High
School, Mr George Sinclair, Leith, Mr Allan, his assistant, Mr Alexander
Strang, schoolmaster, Canongate, and Mr John Govan, his assistant, with
Mr James Scot, junior,—refusing to do, were all removed from their
respective charges, as examples to others; and it appears to have had a
salutary effect, as we do not read of any “pedagogues” after this being
prosecuted for contumacy. But it was again repeated and urged by
proclamation, that the due execution of their acts, forbidding
pedagogues, chaplains, and schoolmasters, to officiate without license
from their respective ordinaries, should be observed, and that no youth
should be suffered to enter into the second classes in colleges, or
received as apprentices, until they obliged themselves to keep the
church. The reiterated repetition of these injunctions strongly implies
the repugnance which must have existed among the people to the form of
religion then endeavoured to be forced upon them, while it exhibits in
the most glaring light that combination of clerical and magisterial
despotism, which is a necessary consequence of a state establishment of
any peculiar denomination, against the light and wishes of a numerous
and instructed part of the community. So anxious, too, were these
Scottish political puritans to preserve the youth from any infection,
that they even carried their zeal the length of imprisoning a boy about
fourteen years of age for being at a conventicle, and subjected him to
several weeks’ confinement, till some of their own number, ashamed of
such proceedings, set the child at liberty.
Children may be restrained, but women being more difficult to manage, it
was thought proper to punish their husbands, instances of which occurred
in the cases of Sir William Fleming of Ferm, commissary of Glasgow, and
of William Anderson, the late lord provost, who were both before the
council the same day, and fined for the delinquencies of their wives,
although they themselves seem to have been regular church-goers. Dame
Margaret Stewart, the spouse of Sir William, and Mrs Macdougal, the
spouse of the provost, were charged with having been present at a
conventicle kept by Mr John Welsh, at Langside, in the parish of
Cathcart, seated upon high chairs on either side of the said Mr John,
and with having kept company with him at other times; in addition to
which the Lady Fleming had allowed other ministers to preach, pray, or
expound Scripture in the house of Ferm, aggravated by her entertaining
the preachers before or after these exercises. The lady did not deny
that she had heard Mr Welsh preach, and also confessed that she had been
guilty of showing hospitality to the same faithful minister of Christ;
for which the council fined Sir William, her husband, in the sum of four
thousand merks, ordaining him to pay the money or find security before
he left Edinburgh. In order, however, that a husband should not suffer
for his wife’s fault, whose conduct they yet allowed it was not in his
power sometimes to control, they declared that if she survived him, then
his heirs should retain as much as he payed of fine, together with
interest from the time of payment, out of the first end of her jointure;
and if she should die first, her executors were to be liable, which they
alleged would be a check on the zeal of the ladies, if they paid no
regard to the interest of their husbands. Lord Fountainhall, who records
this decision, asks, with all due legal gravity, “But what if they have
no executors? or if it be the husband or her own children?”
Not only were husbands thus prosecuted for their ladies’ misdemeanours,
but landlords were made accountable for the conduct of their tenants. A
most oppressive instance occurred in the case of one George Turnbull, a
baxter or baker in Edinburgh, himself a regular conformist. The council
being informed that conventicles were held in the chamber of Isobel
Crawford, which she rented in the flat of a house belonging to him, he
was summoned before them and interrogated upon oath, as to the rent of
the whole flat? He stated it at one hundred pounds per annum; and three
conventicles being either proved or not denied to have met there, he was
fined three hundred pounds, Scots, or twenty-five pounds sterling, for
what he was neither accessary to, nor had any knowledge of.
Tyranny is never stationary when introduced into a country, until it
either level all resistance, and degrade a nation into one quiescent
mass of torpid subjection, or rouse the people to a pitch of determined
enthusiastic irresistless exertion, which drives their oppressors from
the land. At this period, the evident design of the Scottish rulers was
to accomplish the former limb of the alternative, though it eventually
led to the last. “The overtures” sent by the “committee for public
affairs,” to be proposed to his sacred majesty by the Duke of
Lauderdale, to heal the schism and disorders of the church, plainly
evidence this. Their grand object was to root out all conventicles; and
now that the forces were raised, whereby these seditious disorders
might, as they imagined, be easily and effectually suppressed, they
represented to the king the necessity of his empowering the council to
nominate sheriff-deputes, bailie-deputes of regalities, and
stewart-deputes, to enforce their acts against withdrawers from public
ordinances, keepers of conventicles, and those guilty of conversing with
intercommuned persons or vagrant preachers, whenever the resident
deputes had been remiss in their duty; and that his majesty’s forces
might be ordered upon all occasions, when required, to concur with these
officers, or whoever might be appointed by them for the more speedy and
effectual execution of their sentences and decrees. His majesty gave his
hearty approval to the proposal, and the whole south and west of
Scotland was placed under military law, as far at least as assembling to
attend upon the ordinances of religion was concerned. All officers and
soldiers of the standing army or militia were commanded forcibly to
dissipate the persons found by them at conventicles, and previously
indemnified for any slaughter or mutilation they might commit in so
doing. They were to seize the preachers and as many of the hearers as
they could; the former to be carried to prison, the latter to be
detained till they found sufficient caution to answer for their crimes
according to law; and they were empowered to carry off the upper
garments of such as they could not secure, in order to be used in
evidence against them when afterwards apprehended. All arms, and the
horses of all who were armed, were ordered to be seized, and the meanest
sentinel was warranted to break open doors and other lockfast places in
searching after suspected or intercommuned persons.[111]
Footnote 111:
The soldiers were thus distributed:—Three companies of foot in
Canongate and Leith; one at Calder, and one at Stirling; one at
Culross and Clackmannan; one at Cupar and Falkland; four at Glasgow;
two in the shire of Ayr; and one in each of the shires of Renfrew,
Lanark, and Galloway; and one in the town of Kelso. The eighteenth
company to be at the major-general’s disposal. One squadron of his
majesty’s horse-guards to be at Edinburgh, another in Stirling, the
third in Fife, and the fourth in Borrowstounness. One troop at
Glasgow, one in Merse and Teviotdale, and one in Galloway. The
dragoons were to be distributed in companies of twenty-five each,
Galloway, Ayr, Calder, Culross, and Lanark, or otherwise arranged as
the general shall see necessary; but they were to be kept in constant
exercise patrolling the various districts, that they might be ready
and prepared at the shortest notice to execute the orders given for
dispersing any rendezvouses of rebellion.
To stimulate their satellites in the work of proscription and blood, who
were already allowed to share in the plunder of those they seized,
murdered, or robbed, and to urge their activity against the more
eminent, and therefore more hated of those men, of whom the earth was
not worthy—they were now offered additional rewards for their
destruction. The price set upon the head of that “notour traitor, Mr
John Welsh,” dead or alive, was nine thousand merks; for his
accomplices, Mr Semple and Mr Arnot, three thousand; for any
field-preacher declared fugitive, two thousand; and for any other
“vagrant” or itinerant preacher, five hundred merks. The reasons
assigned for such high rewards, were worthy the hypocrites by whom they
were expressed—although we cannot help being astonished at the
unblushing impudence which could publish falsehoods, so widely known to
be such, without even the shadow of verisimilitude, to shield them from
contempt—these were, to prevent the people from being seduced from
public ordinances, or debauched to atheism and popery, by being exposed
to hear Jesuits or any other irregular persons who dared take upon them
the sacred office of the ministry.
About the beginning of March, the military apostles entered upon their
labours; and among their first exploits was the seizure of twenty-three
countrymen in Evandale, chiefly shepherds, whom they straitly examined
upon oath, whether they had seen any men in arms going through the
country during the last month. In the latter end of the same month,
having been informed of a large meeting assembled to hear sermon at
Cambeshead, in the parish of Lesmahago, near Lanark, a party went on
purpose to disperse them; but on learning their numbers, and that many
of them were well armed, they did not think it adviseable to attack
them; but retiring to a little distance, they rifled some women who were
going to the meeting of their plaids and Bibles, and took several men
prisoners. When intelligence of this was brought to the meeting, a
number of the men in arms were sent to demand the release of the
prisoners and the restoration of the plunder. The officer in command
refused to do either, and a scuffle ensued, in which the captain was
wounded and a few of the soldiers taken prisoners, who were shortly
after set at liberty without harm. As soon as an account of this
trifling affair reached Glasgow, Lord Ross marched with a considerable
party towards Lanark, and harassed the surrounding country for some
weeks; and the council upon being apprised of it, ordered the
commissioners for assessment in the shire to meet and provide hay,
straw, and corn for the forces, who were immediately to be despatched
thither to crush the rebels.
In Galloway, Gordon of Earlston and thirteen other gentlemen, who had
been summoned for worshipping God or hearing his word preached in
private houses or in the fields, or of speaking or lodging some others
who had been guilty of the like enormities, were denounced and outlawed
as if they had been malefactors of the deepest die. In Fife, three were
fined; one in a thousand pounds Scots; another in one hundred; and the
third in five hundred merks.
Pursuing their favourite measures, the prelatic myrmidons had
successfully fanned, by their domineering insolence, the discontent they
had widely kindled in the west, from which there appeared no means of
escape, but by some desperate effort to which every day’s report of
fresh aggression was rapidly driving the people. A few of the many
irritating incidents which occurred have been preserved, but the amount
of the suffering can only be guessed. The slightest attempts at what has
been improperly denominated retaliation have been carefully registered.
Of these I shall give two specimens, which were then paraded as
instances of their “hellish principles,” and which, though they were not
the actions of religious men, have been treated as the effects of
fanaticism. The first was a trick played upon Major Johnston, one of the
captains of the train-band of Edinburgh, a violent persecutor, but by
whom was never discovered. “One night,” says Kirkton, “a boy came and
told Johnston there was a conventicle in a certain close; for he was
famously known for an active agent of satan to suppress preachings in
the city and apprehend ministers, though sometimes he took money to
overlook them. He (ever ready for such mischief) presently took a party
of the town-guard, came and entered the house, where he found some men
met about business, who seeing them enter so rudely with their weapons,
did challenge him why he came so briskly. Finding no conventicle there,
he and they began to jostle, (who were the aggressors I cannot tell,)
but he with his men were the first provokers. Some of the gentlemen
shot, as is said, a tobacco-stapple, or piece of broken money, at one of
his followers, a soldier from the Castle, who fell, and died within ten
days after. Another gripped the major himself, and cast him down on the
floor; and they were so incensed that they offered to kill him. But he
crying out wofully to spare his life, said—‘For Christ’s sake, send me
not to hell,’ and swore he would never trouble any of these meetings
again. Whether he was required to say this, or said it in his fear, I
cannot tell; whereupon they spared his life, and let him and his party
go not without some blae strokes they had got. The gentlemen then
withdrew to their own quarters.
“The landlady of the house expecting trouble, left it also, which was
shortly broken up, rifled, and made a prey of by order. The wretched
man, the major, being enraged, forgetting the terror he was in, and all
the vows he had sworn to grow better, did first stir up the council to
seize the house, break open the door, and plunder all. On the morrow or
third day, a narrow and formidable search was made throughout the town
for strangers, and to find out the persons who had offered such an
affront to their major, so useful a servant, not only to the town of
Edinburgh, but to the prelates and their interest. Linlithgow’s men,
with the town constables, were appointed to search. However, none of the
persons present were found.”
I add as one instance of the manner in which these affairs were
represented by the leaders of the persecution, the edition they gave of
the affair to Lauderdale, in the despatches they sent to court.
“Eighteen or twenty men, prompted by the bloody principles of their
traitorous books, did send for the major to the house of one Mrs
Crawford, a known and irregular fanatic, and, at his entry discharged
several shots at him; after which, with drawn swords, they beat,
bruised, and threatened to kill him, if he would not swear never to
dissipate conventicles, which he having refused, according to his duty,
they mortally wounded him and some that were with him.”
Immediately the hue and cry was raised, offering a reward of one
thousand merks to any person who should discover and apprehend any of
the assassinates. Several persons were mentioned, chiefly men already
intercommuned themselves, or the sons or relatives of such as were, but
none were ever taken or tried for the affray. The same day, the council
ordered the magistrates to cause their constables take up a list of the
names of all the inhabitants between sixteen and sixty, and deliver it
to the council; and likewise a list of all the strangers who lodged in
town, to be delivered each night at ten o’clock to the major-general or
commanding officer in his absence, under a penalty of one hundred merks
for each name omitted. And, besides, the magistrates were required to
turn out of the burgh and suburbs the wives and families of all “outted”
ministers and vagrant preachers, under a penalty of one hundred pounds,
sterling, for each family who should be found residing there after the
20th day of the month. This capriciously cruel order, at once useless
and tormenting, does not appear to have been very rigorously enforced by
the magistrates, for “few ministers,” one of themselves informs us,
“went off the town, but retired to more private houses, and hid
themselves for a season, only it caused them disperse among different
friends’ houses, and keep themselves under hiding for a season.”
The other incident was the murder of two soldiers at Loudonhill, under
very suspicious circumstances, also by persons who were never
discovered. Three privates of Captain Maitland’s company had been
quartered upon a petty farmer who had not paid the cess, and continued
there nearly ten days, behaving rather more civilly than many of their
fellows. The man himself being sick, his wife or the maid-servant
desired them to leave, otherwise they might repent it. They replied,
they could not do so without orders. On a Saturday, one of them went to
Newmills, where he remained over night. But about two o’clock on the
Sabbath morning, five horsemen and as many foot came and knocked loudly
at the door of the barn, where the remaining two soldiers were lying.
Supposing it to be their comrade, one of them rose in his shirt and
opened the door, when he was saluted with—“Come out you damned rogues,”
and instantly shot through the body, he fell dead upon the spot; the
other alarmed got up, and was attempting to shut the door, when he also
received a shot which wounded him on the thigh. The assassin who was on
horseback dismounting, seized the soldier by the throat, and they
struggled together till another of the rogues came up and knocked him
down. While he lay stupified by the blow, the murderers went off, taking
with them all the arms and clothes they could find. The wounded man
lingered a few days, and expired. The people of the house declared their
ignorance of the whole matter, only the deceased had told them that the
ruffian who shot him appeared to him to be one John Scarlet, a tinker;
the rest he could not distinctly see, owing to the darkness and his own
confusion. Scarlet was a notorious rogue who roved through the country
with several women he called his wives, and who some years before this
had been apprehended as a vagabond, and gifted to a French recruiting
officer, but had contrived to raise a mutiny in the vessel which was
carrying him across the channel, and made his escape; since when he had
returned to his old avocation, and was one of the gang attending Captain
Carstairs when Garret was wounded.[112]
Footnote 112:
Mr Laing (Hist. vol. iii. p. 97,) considers this as an act of
retaliation on the part of the covenanters. Of this I cannot see any
credible evidence. The language used by the assassins was not such as
the covenanters would have employed, nor were the persons attacked of
that station the persecuted would have deliberately formed any design
of destroying. It is not unlikely that the soldiers were the objects
of private revenge, and were wounded by some rough companions of their
own, whom their insults had irritated.
Perhaps nothing places the conduct of the Scottish government in a more
disgraceful light than the current belief which pervaded the country,
that they were implicated in this foul murder, at least that they were
capable of abetting it, although it be extremely difficult to perceive
what advantage they could reap from it. All their proclamations and
abuse of the fanatics availed nothing, but only to confirm the general
report that they had authorized the assassination merely to throw
additional odium on the already grievously calumniated wanderers. The
heritors of Ayrshire, who had seen their country devastated when there
was much less cause, took the alarm, and despatched the Earl of Loudon,
Lord Cochran, and Sir John, to explain the state of the country, and to
express their detestation of the deed. The armed field-meetings,
attended by numbers of the commonalty, had increased on the confines of
their own and the neighbouring shires, occasioned they alleged by a few
unsound, turbulent, hotheaded preachers, most part whereof were never
ministers of the church of Scotland, making it their work to draw people
to separation and schism from pure ordinances, and instil into them the
seeds of rebellion by their exhortations and doctrine.
Unhappily, the contentions among the persecuted continued, and a root of
bitterness sprung up among them, which produced the most lamentable
fruit. Instead of dropping minor differences, they seemed to set a
higher value on them as the dangers attendant on holding them increased.
Paying cess and hearing the indulged became bars to fellowship; and
Robert Hamilton, who now took the lead, publicly forbade any of the
compilers to join with them or bring arms; nor was it without difficulty
that Richard Cameron got them to forbear proceeding with such an high
hand at such a time; but although he smothered these heats for a season,
there was a secret heart-burning left which he could not extinguish. Yet
it is impossible not to sympathize with the side who felt most keenly,
even when a knowledge of the consequences may have led us to disapprove
of their too rigid particularity, for which they themselves suffered so
severely. At all events, when men have evinced the purity of their
motives by their disinterestedness and the sincerity of their
principles, by suffering for them unto the death, it becomes those who
are sitting at ease, and not exposed to their trials, to speak and write
very tenderly about them.
Oppressions under form of law kept pace with those without it;—if the
mere acts of men in place can be called in any sense legal while they
are trampling under foot the constitutional rights of their countrymen,
simply because these men happen to hold offices, the names of which are
in the statute-book, or pervert possession of power, a proper exercise
of which would be legal. The council, the willing slaves of the clergy,
eagerly laid hold of the story of the popish plot in England to increase
their severities against field-preaching, the antipathy at which raged
with every symptom of monomania among the prelatic hypocrites. They
issued a fierce proclamation against the papists, and did nothing to
disturb their increasing numbers; but they nominated an especial
committee of thirteen of their own number, to meet during the spring
vacation, to whom they delegated the judicial authority of the bench and
the active duties of the executive. It comprised the two Archbishops of
St Andrews and Glasgow, and the Bishop of Galloway, with the law
officers of the crown, any three to be a quorum; and as the Bishop of
Galloway had obtained a dispensation allowing him to reside constantly
in Edinburgh, they were always certain of an ecclesiastical president or
director. They were instructed to issue orders for executing the laws as
to the public peace, particularly those against conventicles; to call
before them noted delinquents, secure their persons and examine them
upon oath, pronounce sentences and decreets against the guilty, and
issue such orders as they should find necessary to magistrates and
officers of the forces; and with power to nominate a committee of
themselves by turns, to perform what was committed to them, or call the
council upon any emergency; and the whole concluded with the ominous
charge to use diligence in discovering any powder or lead lately brought
into the kingdom. On the report of this committee (May 1st), the council
ordered the Earl of Linlithgow, commander-in-chief, to despatch a body
of horse, foot, and dragoons, to scour the country, especially where
Welsh, Cameron, Kid, or Douglas kept their conventicles; to apprehend
them where they might be found; and, in case of resistance, to pursue
them to the death, and declared that neither officers nor soldiers
should be called in question, civilly or criminally, for the same.
Armed with such powers and secured by such indemnity, it may be readily
supposed what ravages would be committed by a banditti, composed, as the
standing army of that day in Scotland was, of all the idle, dissolute
reprobates that could be collected. These roamed through the country,
objects of hatred and dread to the humbler ranks.
The commissioners of shires and sheriff-deputes were more obnoxious to
the middling and higher classes, whom they summoned to their courts, and
plundered and imprisoned if they appeared, or intercommuned if they did
not. The cruelties they exercised upon the domestics of the petty
heritors who were forced under hiding, to make them discover the haunts
of their relatives or masters, are almost incredible, and rivalled the
tortures of the inquisition; beating and wounding with their muskets or
bayonets were common, and burning matches were often applied between the
fingers to extort a confession from these faithful confidents of the
suspected. When the honest, industrious tenantry and small farmers were
ruined by fines, their houses were poinded, and themselves turned out to
bear the pelting of the pitiless storm, nor dared their neighbours
either shelter or sooth them, under pain of being also sent to wander
houseless on the heath—reduced to desperation for “disobeying the
discipline of the church,” or “wilfully withdrawing from the ordinary
meetings for divine worship,”—it would not have been at all wonderful if
the wanderers had perpetrated the horrible deeds of which they were
falsely accused; nor can it appear strange, when every avenue to relief
was shut up, that they should take whatever methods of redressing their
wrongs they could command; neither was it conduct unprecedented in
history, their seeking to rid themselves of their most violent, lawless
persecutors, of whom they could not by any legal or moderate measures
get free, by methods which were not strictly legal. It would require
powerful logic to convince persons suffering under the lash of distorted
laws, that they were in duty bound to allow their persecutors the safety
and privilege of men who had never violated law.
But the death of Sharpe, however it might be justified or extenuated,
was altogether accidental at the time, and cannot be traced to any other
source than his own atrocious tyranny. His agents were extremely active
in Fife; for the numerous conventicles held in his own diocese
particularly annoyed him. One of his especial “familiars” was William
Carmichael, a bankrupt merchant, formerly a bailie in Edinburgh, now one
of the commissioners for suppressing conventicles, of licentious and
profligate habits, consequently greedy of money, and fit for any vile
job to procure it. His enormities had rendered him an object of general
detestation, but his excessive exactions had ruined many respectable
heritors and tenants, to whom he was become particularly obnoxious.
Several of these individuals, some of whom were gentlemen of good
families, interdicted the common intercourse of society, and hunted like
wild beasts on the mountains, determined to take personal vengeance on
this vile instrument of their unjust suffering;[113] and for this
purpose, nine of them, pretty early on Saturday morning, the 3d of May,
had traversed the fields about Cupar for a considerable time, in search
of the commissioner, who they understood was hunting on the moor; but a
shepherd had informed him that some gentlemen on horseback were
inquiring after him; and he not being very anxious to encounter them,
left his sport abruptly, and returned home.
Footnote 113:
At a meeting held April 11, “at John Nicholson’s house, colier, beside
Lathons, the persons who had been poinded and otherways maltreated,
judged it their duty to take some course with Carmichael _to scarr him
from his cruel courses_; and advising how to get him, resolved to wait
on him either in his coming or going from St Andrews, or other place
in the shire, [he] being to sit in all the judicatures in the shire,
for taking course with the honest party; and they resolved to fall
upon him at St Andrews. Some objected, what if he should be in the
prelate’s house, what should be done in such a case? Whereupon all
present judged duty to hang both over the post, especially the bishop,
it being by many of the Lord’s people and ministers judged a duty long
since, not to suffer such a person to live, who had shed and was
shedding so much of the blood of the saints, and knowing that other
worthy Christians had used means to get him upon the road
before.”—Russell’s Account, p. 110.
They also, tired of their fruitless search, were talking about their
further proceedings, when a boy came from Baldinny—Robert Black’s
farm—and said the goodwife had sent him to see how they had sped. They
told him they had missed him, and asked in return if he knew any thing
of three of their number who had not joined them. He told them they were
gone. They desired him to go back and see where they were gone to, which
he did, but quickly returning, said—“Gentlemen, there is the bishop’s
coach; our gudewife desired me to tell you,” which they seeing betwixt
Ceres and Blebo-hole, said—“Truly this is of God, and it seemeth that
God hath delivered him into our hands; let us not draw back but pursue.”
Whereupon all agreed to follow; but the question was started, what
should be done with him? “I will not move one foot farther,” said George
Fleming, “for if we spare his life our hazard shall be no less, and
likewise his cruelty shall be greater; surely we have a clear call to
execute God’s justice upon him, now when in such a capacity.” So said
several others. Hackston of Rathillet opposed the shedding of blood; and
besides, he thought it was an act of the last consequence to the nation
and the church, and what required much greater deliberation. James
Russell, who writes the account, said “it had been born in upon his
spirit some days before in prayer, that the Lord would employ him in
some piece of service or it was long, and that there would be some great
man who was an enemy to the kirk of God cut off.” “He was forced to
devote himself to God, and enter in a covenant with the Lord, and
renewed all his former vows and engagements against papists, prelates,
indulgences, and all that was enemies to the work of God and opposed the
flourishing of Christ’s kingdom; and that he should not refuse nor draw
back whenever the Lord should call him to act for him, as far as the
Lord should enable him and give him strength, though there should be
never so much seeming hazard.”
After alluding to the case of Mitchell, he was asked what they should do
with the bishop. He replied, he durst not but execute the justice of God
upon him “for the innocent blood he had shed.” William Danziel spoke to
the same purpose. Then they all with one consent urged Rathillet to
command them that they might not delay.[114] Rathillet declined. “The
Lord,” he said, “was his witness, he was willing to venture all he had
for the interest of Christ, yet he durst not lead them on to that
action, there being a known prejudice betwixt the bishop and him, which
would mar the glory of the action; for it would be imputed to his
particular revenge, and that God was his witness he did nothing on that
account; but he would not hinder them from what God had called them to,
and that he would not leave them.” On hearing this, John Balfour cried
out—“Gentlemen! follow me!” Immediately they all set off at the gallop
across the hills for Magus moor. James Russell outrode the others; and
seeing the bishop, who had taken the alarm, and was looking out at the
door, cast away his cloak, and cried “Judas be taken.” The bishop
screamed violently to the coachman—“Drive! drive! drive!” The coachman
drove furiously, endeavouring to keep off the pursuer by striking his
horse with his whip, on which Russell fired, and called to his
companions to come up. They throwing away their cloaks, put their horses
to the speed, and kept firing at the coach, several shots passing
through it. One of the servants having cocked his carabine, was about to
fire when Alexander Henderson gripped him by the neck, threw him down,
and pulled it out of his hand. Andrew Henderson outran the coach and
struck the horse in the face with his sword. Russell at the same time
ordered the postilion to stand, which he refusing, he struck him on the
face, dismounted him, and cut the traces of the coach, which stopped it
till the rest came up.
Footnote 114:
The names of the persons present were—David Hackston of Rathillet,
John Balfour of Kinloch, James Russell in Kettle, George Fleming in
Balbathie, Andrew Henderson, Alexander Henderson in Kilbrachmont,
William Danziel in Caddam, James, Alexander, and George Balfour in
Gilston, Thomas Ness in P——, and Andrew Guillan, weaver in
Balmerinock, who had been put out of Dundee for not hearing of the
curate.—Russell’s Account of Archbishop Sharpe’s Death, p. 111, 112.
They found the bishop in the coach with his daughter, both unhurt,
though several shots had passed through the carriage. Opening the door,
Russell, who took the lead, again desired him to come out, that no
prejudice might befall his daughter, whom they would not willingly hurt.
He still hesitated, protesting that he never wronged any of them.
Russell declared before the Lord that it was no particular interest, nor
yet for any wrong that he had done to him, but because he had betrayed
the church, like Judas, and for eighteen years had wrung his hands in
the blood of the saints. John Balfour, on horseback, said—“God is our
witness, it is not for any wrong thou hast done to me, nor yet for any
fear of what thou couldest do to me, but because thou hast been a
murderer of many a poor soul in the kirk of Scotland, and a betrayer of
the church, and an open enemy and persecutor of Jesus Christ and his
members, whose blood thou hast shed like water on the earth, and
therefore thou shalt die;” and fired a pistol. James Russell desired him
the third time to come forth, and prepare for death, judgment, and
eternity. The bishop said, “Save my life, and I will save yours.” The
other replied, “I know it is neither in your power to save us or to kill
us; and I again declare, it is not for any particular feud of quarrel I
have at you which moves me to this attempt, but for the blood shed, not
only after Pentland, but several times since, and for your perjury and
shedding the blood of Mr James Mitchell, and having a hand in the death
of James Learmont, which crimes cry with a loud voice to Heaven for
vengeance; and we are this day to execute it,” and thrust his shabel at
him. He then offered money. “Thy money perish with thee,” was the reply;
and one of the company remarked, “seeing there have been so many lives
taken for him, for which their is no sign of repentance, we will not be
innocent if any more be taken that way.” Another wounded him with a
sword, and he cried, “Fy, fy, I am gone.”
Being called to come out of the coach, “I am gone already,” he said,
“what need more.” He was desired to pray; but, turning towards the
captain, he said, “Save my life; for God’s sake, save my life! save my
life!” offering him money, and promising to lay down his Episcopal
function. He told him he had shown no mercy, and needed expect none.
Seeing Rathillet at a distance, he crept on his hands and his knees
towards him, saying, “I know you are a gentleman, you will protect me.”
Mr Hackston said, “I shall never lay a hand on you,” and retired a
little. He then turned to the others, and piteously entreated that they
would save the life of an old man, and he would obtain them a remission.
Balfour told him they could not spare him; and if he would not call on
God, they knew what to do.
His daughter attempted to interpose, as she had done before, between her
father and his antagonists, when Andrew Guillan kept her back, to secure
her from hurt or danger. She fell on her knees, and, weeping bitterly,
joined her entreaties with those of her father. Guillan also pleaded for
his life; but it was now impossible for them to listen to any
supplication. The bishop was a man whose most sacred oaths could not be
trusted; and, to save their own lives, they were under the cruel
necessity of taking his. Another volley of shot was their answer to his
supplications, and he fell back and lay as dead. They then went off a
little; and his daughter attempting to raise him, exclaimed—“Oh! there
is life in him yet;” which they hearing returned, and James Russell
“haked his head in pieces.” His daughter, the miserable spectatress of
this sad event, cursed him, and called him a bloody murderer. He
answered, they were not murderers, for they were sent to execute God’s
vengeance on him.
As soon as they had finished the unfortunate primate, they went to the
coach, and took a pair of pistols and a trunk, which upon opening, they
found contained only his daughter’s clothes, and left untouched, but
took from another a little box and all the papers they could find.[115]
They likewise disarmed his attendants, five in number, and carried away
their arms. It was not a little remarkable, that though this tragedy was
acted at noon, in broad day, and parties of soldiers were constantly
patrolling the country, along with numbers of sheriff-officers’
underlings and the archbishop’s own numerous myrmidons; yet the actors
were not interrupted in their performance, nor did any of them ever
suffer for the part they played. Two only, who were present as
spectators, were executed, and one of them, the poor weaver Guillan, had
been called, most unexpectedly on his part, to hold the horses.
Footnote 115:
“They took nothing from him but his tobacco-box and Bible and a few
papers. With these they went to a barn near by. Upon the opening of
his tobacco-box, a living humming-bee flew out. This either Rathillet
or Balfour called his familiar; and some in the company, not
understanding the term, they explained it to be a devil. In the box
were a pair of pistol ball, parings of nails, some worsted or silk,
and some say a paper with some characters, but that is
uncertain.”—Russell’s Account, &c. p. 421, note.
Among the papers were found—a gift of non-entries of several gentlemen’s
estates in Fife and elsewhere, with instructions and informations how to
prosecute in order to turn the present possessors out of the lands; the
patent of the bishopric of Dunkeld in favour of Mr Andrew Bruce,
archdeacon of St Andrews; several presentations to churches of which the
king was patron; instructions to conjunct-deputies; and new gifts of the
heritors fines.
Sharpe, when he met his fate, was returning home from Edinburgh, where
he had been arranging matters for heating the fiery furnace yet seven
times hotter, previously to his going to court, and had there drawn out
a proclamation afterwards issued, which, had it been known, would have
justified the extremest measures on the part of the proscribed,
persecuted wanderers, even had he not previously placed himself out of
the protection of the law. By it, whoever should go with any arms to
field-meetings, were to be proceeded against as traitors; and lest any
should suppose, from the rigour used against such as went to
conventicles in arms, that there was any intention to slacken the
prosecutions against other field-conventicles, all judges and officers
were required to put all former laws and commands in rigorous execution,
even against those who frequented field-meetings without arms, repeating
as the reason of such severity, the foul and absurd calumny “that those
meetings do certainly tend to the ruin and reproach of the Christian
religion, and to the introduction of popery and heresy, the subversion
of monarchy, and the contempt of all laws and government.”
Thus fell James Sharpe, Archbishop of St Andrews, Primate of Scotland, a
man universally detested by those whom he had deserted and betrayed, and
not much regarded by those to whose ranks he had gone over. He has left
a memory and a fate as woful beacons to religious turncoats, who assume
and relinquish the garb of a profession for secular purposes, without
feeling the influence or experiencing the consolations of real religion,
who find the road disappointment and the end death.
Not less remarkable was the escape of Mr William Veitch, who had been
marked out to die by the primate. Having been denounced for being
present at Pentland, although he had not been there, he retired to
Northumberland, where he had resided with his family for several years,
exercising his ministry with great success among a numerous congregation
at Harnam-hall, whence he removed to Stauntin-hall in 1677, where he
remained till January this year, when he was taken from his bed about
eight o’clock in the morning, and carried prisoner to Edinburgh. On the
22d of February, he was brought before a committee of the council,
whereof Sharpe was preses. As he was coming along the pavement, the Earl
of Mar’s gentleman came to him from his master, desiring him to give the
archbishop his titles, as that would likely prevail much with the bishop
for his liberty. Veitch sending his service to the Earl, answered that
he was resolved to act according to his light. The orders from the king
to the council were, that they should proceed against him with all
diligence, according to the utmost severity of law, his majesty being
fully resolved to put it strictly in execution, in order “to dash the
groundless hopes of knaves and fools, who expected a toleration!” The
archbishop put many questions to him to see if he could ensnare him,
which were urged by Paterson, the Bishop of Edinburgh, one of which
was—“Have you taken the covenant?” He answered, “All that see me at this
honourable board may easily perceive that I was not capable to take the
covenant when you and the other ministers of Scotland tendered it.” At
this the whole company fell a laughing, which nettled the bishop. “But,”
says he, “did you never take the covenant since?” To which he replied,
“I judge myself obliged to covenant away myself to God, and frequently
to renew it.” At which Paterson stood up and said—“My lord, you will get
no good of this man; he is all for evasions. But,” said he, “was you not
at Pentland fight?” To which he replied, “If you will give me power and
liberty to seek witnesses to prove it, I was alibi, having been all that
night and morning at Edinburgh.”
Being put out a considerable time, he was called in again; and the
bishop said—“Hear your confession read.” They had interlined many
sentences to make him a criminal, which, when he heard read, he denied
that he had spoken, and refused to subscribe. “What!” said the bishop,
“will you not subscribe your own confession?” “Not I,” said the
prisoner, “unless you write it _in mundo_, without your additions.” At
which they appeared rather irritated, till the Earl of Linlithgow, after
some conversation with the others across the table, said, “My lord St
Andrews, cause write it _in mundo_ to the young man.” It was then fairly
written out, and he subscribed it; but it was found not to contain any
thing on which they could found a criminal charge, and he was remanded
to prison.
This was not, however, the only villanous attempt against his life. A
letter was brought from the king to turn him over to the Justiciary,
which was equivalent to a warrant for his execution. He himself had
written to Lauderdale, who was his own relation and a professed friend,
to give force to which some ladies obtained a letter from Archbishop
Paterson to the Duke in his favour; and his brother Sir William brought
it open and read it to Mr Veitch. It was directed to Dr Hicks, the
Duke’s chaplain, to present, which was done accordingly; but when an
answer was called for, Hicks showed a letter he had received per post,
forbidding him to present it! Fortunately for the prisoner a
representation of his case was laid before the Earl of Shaftesbury by Mr
(afterwards Sir) Gilbert Elliot, which he had brought from Scotland,
containing the sentiments both of English and Scottish lawyers, all of
them declaring the illegality of the procedure against him in both
kingdoms. The Earl having shown it to Prince Rupert, the Duke of
Monmouth, and several other persons of rank, they concurred with him in
petitioning the king to send him back to England that he might be tried
there, because he was a naturalized English subject from his long
residence, and the law had been violated by his seizure; it would
destroy men’s confidence in their protection. But all the answer made by
the tyrant was a profane scoff, uttered in the language of his proper
prototype—“I have written with my own hand to execute him; and what I
have written, I have written.” Upon this the Earl of Shaftesbury told
his majesty, that, seeing the petition of so many of the greatest peers
in England now standing before him, for a thing so just and equitable,
could not be granted, the new parliament for inquiring into the popish
plot was now sitting down, and no person that they found guilty,
presbyterian or other, should escape death, if the parliament would take
his advice and the lords now before the king; and then his majesty
should have pears for plums.
On leaving his majesty, the Earl sent his servant to Mr Elliot, who was
in waiting for the result, and who immediately on learning it went to
the door of the parliament-house and distributed copies of the petition
to each of the lords as they went in. Shaftesbury himself followed; and
finding their lordships busy reading it, asked what they read; and being
told, replied—“O, my lords, is that the text? Come, I’ll give you the
sermon upon it;” and explained the minister’s case, which induced many
of them to say, if that be truly so, we’ll pass an order immediately
when we sit down for his remanding. A Tory lord seeing the impression
thus made, taking the petition in his hand, went instantly to the king,
and begged his majesty to consider that this was not his sixteen years’
old parliament, and he knew not what they would do; and it was dangerous
for him on so mean an account to set two kingdoms by the ears: therefore
he begged that he would presently send for Lauderdale to despatch an
express to Scotland, and he would report it to the lords to take them
off their proposed measure; which was done. And this order to stop
proceedings was received by the Justice-General Tarbet, as he was
entering the Parliament Close to open the court, where Veitch would have
inevitably been condemned; instead of which, the court was dissolved and
the prisoner remanded to prison.
His deliverance from jail shows the low arts to which court-intrigue
sometimes subjects great men. The Duke of Monmouth took an interest in
Veitch. The Duke of York was instigated by his priests against him, on
account of his weight as an eminent opponent of popery in the borders,
where the emissaries of Rome were numerous and active. Lauderdale
disliked Monmouth as a rival, and attached himself to York;[116] and so
wonderfully are events in providence arranged, that causes sometimes
produce effects the very opposite to those we would most naturally
expect. Lauderdale’s dislike to Monmouth effected the release of
Veitch—a measure which Monmouth had desired and solicited in vain, and
which York had so willingly and so successfully resisted. Lord Stair, as
he afterwards told Mr Veitch, having the draught of his sentence of
banishment[117] in his pocket, happened to visit Lauderdale that week
Monmouth took post from Scotland, and that his spy had sent him an
account of what Monmouth had said when he rose from the council-table
respecting the relief of Mr Veitch as soon as he saw the king.
Lauderdale giving this letter to Stair to read, he says, “Now, my lord,
Monmouth is upon his way, and is like to relieve this prisoner, I think
it were best for your lordship to send for the king’s advocate and the
rest of the lords who are here, and we will get the sentence of
banishment out of the kingdom passed upon him before Monmouth come up;
and if the king have any scruple about it, his advocate and the other
lords will clear him thereanent. This will be for our credit, and stop
the mouths of all in Scotland who reflect on our severity; and if he
come and do it, the dirt will lie upon us.” To which Lauderdale
replied—“On my conscience, we will do it, and Monmouth shall not have
the honour and credit of it. We’ll send for the lords instantly, and
tell the king a new story that will make him do it;” which they did; the
king superscribing and Lauderdale subscribing the new sentence, and also
an order from the king to his council to put the same in execution upon
sight. Stair then sent for Mr Elliot the prisoner’s agent, and delivered
it to him.[118]
Footnote 116:
The unfortunate Monmouth, who possessed a kind and feeling
disposition, was constantly watched by the Duke of York, who feared
and hated him in proportion as he was loved by the English nation.
Certainly at one time that nation looked forward with fond expectation
to his succession. Lauderdale also had spies around the luckless
prince during the time he was in Scotland.
Footnote 117:
From Scotland to England!—a strange banishment a southron would think!
Footnote 118:
Memoirs of Veitch, pp. 112, 114.
On the same day on which Sharpe paid the penalty of his accumulated
guilt, Andrew Aytoun, younger of Inchdairney—characterized by the
venerable Wodrow as an excellent young gentleman, who had the blessing
of early piety, and who when at the University of St Andrews had spent
much of his time in prayer—was wantonly murdered by a soldier belonging
to one of those parties ordered to scour Fife in consequence of the
primate’s death. He had been very active in procuring Presbyterian
ministers to preach the gospel, instead of the worthless incumbents who
prostituted the sacred office in Fife; and for this, when little more
than seventeen years of age, he was intercommuned, forced to quit his
father’s house, and seek refuge with some of his relations in
Morayshire. While there, Mr Walter Denvon was sent south a prisoner.
Inchdairney followed; and gathering some of his young acquaintances in
Fife, resolutely rescued the good man.
After this exploit, he continued lurking in his father’s house till the
3d of May, where he dined with the minister who gave Wodrow the
information. They parted about two o’clock, neither of them having heard
any thing of the bishop’s catastrophe. Thence young Inchdairney went to
Lady Murdocairnie, his aunt’s house. When not far from Auchtermuchty, he
saw a party of horse riding furiously on the Cupar road, and quickened
his pace to escape them. The officer of the troop ordered one of his men
to pursue, which he did; and firing struck Inchdarnie’s horse; then
firing again, mortally wounded himself, two musket balls—for it was
double shotted—passing through his body. The bleeding youth could with
difficulty keep his seat till he reached a house not far off, where he
was put to bed, and notice sent to Sir John Aytoun of Aytoun, a relation
of his own, whose seat was quite near, who immediately came, having
first despatched a servant to Cupar to fetch a surgeon. The commander of
the party, however, probably anticipating such a message, had, with a
refinement of cruelty, given orders that no surgeon should leave the
place without his permission; and when applied to, he sent some of his
soldiers to bring the wounded gentleman prisoner to Cupar. When they
came, Sir John Aytoun represented the inhumanity of carrying any person
in his situation three miles, and offered bail or to entertain them till
surgical aid was procured; but nothing could prevail. He was placed upon
one of their horses, and hurried immediately away. Through loss of
blood, he fainted four times upon the road. When he arrived, the
magistrates of Cupar allowed him to be carried to an inn, where he
languished till next day about twelve o’clock, when he died in much
serenity and peace. His parents were with him, and saw him die. The
person who murdered him is said to have been a relation of his own, who
came to him when he was dying and entreated his forgiveness, which he
frankly gave, accompanying it with serious exhortations; but the unhappy
man, some years after, died in great agony of mind, reproaching himself
with the deed.
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