A.D. 1685.
Accession of James VII.—Proceedings of the privy council—Field
murders—Northern commission—Indemnity—Outrages in the south—Two women
drowned—John Brown, the Christian carrier—Parliament—Argyle’s
expedition—Suspected persons sent to Dunotter—Argyle
defeated—taken—executed—Colonel Rumbold—Nisbet of Hardhill and other
sufferers.
An express which left London on the 2d of February, arrived in Edinburgh
on the 6th, bringing intelligence of the king having been struck with an
apoplectic fit. On the 10th, early in the morning, the privy council
received the news of his death, and at ten o’clock, the authorities
proceeded in their robes to the cross, where the Chancellor, “who,” says
Fountainhall, “carried his own purse, and weeping,” proclaimed James
Duke of Albany, the only undoubted and lawful king of this realm, under
the name of James VII. But he had not taken, and never did take, the
Scottish coronation oath:—so scrupulous was he with regard to his own
conscience in matters of religion. The proclamation, however, which was
sent down from London, paid less respect to the consciences of his
subjects, who were bound by every sacred and constitutional tie to
resist popery and popish rulers. After declaring that his majesty, their
only righteous sovereign over all persons and in all causes, held his
imperial crown from God alone, thus concluded—“And we—(the lords of his
majesty’s privy council, with the concurrence of several others, lords
spiritual and temporal, barons and burgesses of this realm)—hereby give
our oaths, with uplifted hands, that we shall bear true and faithful
allegiance unto our said sacred Sovereign, James VII., King of Great
Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith!! &c. and to his
lawful heirs and successors; and shall perform all duties, service, and
obedience to him, as becomes his faithful, loyal, and dutiful subjects.
So help us GOD.” Then followed another, announcing that his majesty
continued all the servants of the crown in their offices till he had
leisure to send down new commissioners.
Next day the Court of Session met, when the lords not only took the oath
of allegiance, and swore the test again themselves, but administered
them likewise to all the advocates, clerks, and writers. The king’s
speech to his cabinet—-in which he promised to follow the example of his
brother in his great clemency and tenderness to his people, to preserve
the government in church and state, as by law established; and as he
would never depart from the just rights and prerogatives of the crown,
so he would never invade any man’s property—was extensively circulated;
and the people were desired to believe that the royal papist would
promote the Protestant religion, or at least preserve it.
As a practical illustration of his majesty’s professions, the council
appointed a committee to inquire into the state of the prisoners in the
Canongate jail; and, upon their report, sent two to the justiciary, and
fourteen to the plantations, because they would not violate their
consciences; and for the same obstinacy, the Dumbarton commission court
fined John Napier of Kilmahew in £2000 sterling; John Zuil of Darleith,
£1000; John Campbell of Carrick, £1500, for himself and lady; and Isabel
Buchanan, £100; and ordered them to be imprisoned till they paid their
fines, or gave satisfaction to Queensberry, the lord-treasurer.
At the same time, the work of blood went on in the fields. Captain Bruce
surprised (February 19th) six of the wanderers on Lochenket-muir, in
Galloway, and ordered four of them to be shot without further inquiry.
The other two he carried to Sir Robert Grierson of Lag, at Irongray,
who, upon their refusing the abjuration, instantly hanged them upon an
oak-tree. One of them, a married man, before his execution, was asked if
he had any word to send to his wife, answered, “I leave her and my two
babes on the Lord and on his promise;—a father to the fatherless, and an
husband to the widow is the Lord, in his holy habitation.” Two days
after, five were murdered at Kirkconnel; and early next month, other
three, in the parish of Kirkpatrick, were despatched in the same summary
manner, by the same miserable slave of the prelates.
But the day did not suffice. Like the wild beasts, these monsters
prowled about at night, seeking for their prey. On the 28th, about
eleven o’clock, p.m., Lieutenant Douglas surrounded the house of Dalwin,
and apprehended David Martin. When going away, they perceived a youth,
Edward Kyan, concealing himself between the end of one house and the
sidewall of another. He was immediately dragged forth; and, without
being asked any other question than where he lived, the lieutenant shot
him through the head, first with one pistol and then with another; and
the soldiers pretending to observe some motion, shot him a third time.
Martin underwent a more aggravated death. When the soldiers stripped him
of his coat, they made him kneel beside the mangled body of his friend.
Six were ordered to present their pieces, when another of the party
stept between them and their intended victim, and begged the lieutenant
to spare him till next day, alleging they might get some discoveries, to
which Douglas consenting, his life was spared; but terror had deprived
the poor youth of his reason, who at the same time being struck with
palsy, was carried to bed, where he lingered four years, and died.
Several women compassionating the sufferer, were cruelly beat and
wounded, for displaying the natural sympathy of their sex. After this
exploit, Douglas caught one Edward Mackeen, and because he had a
flint-stone, perhaps for striking fire in his hiding-place, shot him
without other evidence of guilt.
Sir Robert Grierson of Lag, while ranging the country, having surprised
Mr Bell of Whiteside, step-son to Viscount Kenmuir, with whom he himself
was well acquainted, and other four in company, in the parish of
Tongland, Galloway, they surrendered without resistance, upon assurance
of having their lives spared; but the wretch murdered them instantly,
without even allowing them time to pray; and when Mr Bell earnestly
begged only for a quarter of an hour to prepare for death, he refused it
with an oath, asking contemptuously, “What the devil! have you not had
time enough to prepare since Bothwell?”
While the south suffered severely, the north was not exempted. On the 2d
of March, the Earls of Errol and Kintore, and Sir George Monro of
Culrain, who had been sent thither commissioners, gave in their report
to the council, and have thus themselves recorded the oppressions for
which they received the thanks of their worthy employers. On their
arrival in Morayshire, their first act was to cause a gallows be erected
at Elgin, where the court sat, in order to stimulate the loyalty of the
inhabitants. Then they issued orders to the sheriff for summoning all
disorderly persons within the shires of Banff, Ross, and Sutherland, to
appear before them on a certain day, and forbade any person to leave the
district without their license, and all who entered it from the south to
produce their papers for examination. At the same time, they graciously
“allowed” the heritors and the burghs to meet and make address of what
they would offer for the security and the peace of the government; and
they “unanimously and voluntarily!” made offer of three months’ supply,
signed a bond for securing the peace, and did also swear the test and
oath of allegiance, except a few heritors, to whom the lords thought fit
not to tender the same at that time, but who appeared willing to take
it, and some loyal persons absent on excuses—evidently papists, as these
alone among the recusants found any favour.[160]
Footnote 160:
This appears pretty plain from the manner in which Presbyterians were
treated and the way their fines were disposed of. The Laird of Grant
was fined in £42,000, Scots; the Laird of Brody, £24,000; Laird of
Lethin, £40,000; Francis Brody of Miltoun, £10,000; Francis Brody of
Windyhills, £3333: 6: 8.; James Brody of Kinlee, £333: 6: 8. These
were the sums as reported to the council. In a particular narrative
sent Wodrow by “a worthy gentleman in Murray, upon whom the reader may
depend for the truth of it,” the sums are rated higher; and it is
mentioned besides, that the Laird of Brody—this Brody’s grandfather,
which family seems, either from their wealth or worth, or both, to
have been peculiarly mulcted—was fined forty-five thousand merks,
merely for having a conventicle in his house. Of this plunder, £22,000
were paid to one Colonel Maxwell, a papist; £40,000, Lethin’s fine,
were gifted to the Scottish papistical college at Douay, which was
compounded for; £30,000 paid to the Earl of Perth. The remainder
appears to have been bestowed on the satellites of the party. Gray of
Crichy, who adjudged the estate, got the proceeds.—Wodrow, vol. ii. p.
468.
They did very strictly examine all the ministers and elders, with
several persons of honour and loyalty, anent the disorderly persons
therein, libelled all persons delated, banished some, fined others, and
remitted a few to the council. The aged Laird of Fowlis—“a disorderly
person not able to travel”!—they imprisoned at Tain, and the younger, at
Inverness, in case he refused the bond of peace. They cleansed the
country of all “outted” ministers and vagrant preachers; banished four
of them for keeping conventicles and refusing to keep the kirk!!—one
being an heritor, they fined in ten thousand merks besides!—and sent the
five prisoners to Edinburgh. A good many common and very mean people,
who were accused and indicted for church disorders, upon inquiry being
found to have been formerly punished and since regular, were set free
upon finding security for their future good behaviour.
The case of the Laird of Grant, however, deserves especial notice, for
the peculiarly unprincipled rapacity displayed by the ravening crew. The
decreet against him was founded on his wife’s having confessed two years
and a half’s withdrawing from ordinances, his keeping an unlicensed
chaplain, hearing “outted” ministers preach and pray several times,
which he himself had confessed. To this he answered in a petition to the
council, for relief, April 2:—that the parish church was vacant for a
year and a half of the time mentioned; and that during the remainder his
wife was so unwell, that she was given over by her physicians; and that
both before and after the time libelled, she had been a constant hearer.
Nor did he or his wife ever hear an “outted” minister either preach or
pray, except in the House of Lethin, when his mother-in-law, the Lady
Lethin, was on her deathbed, and there were not more than five or six
present, who were members of the family, performing the last sacred
duties to their dying relative; that Alexander Murray, called his
unlicensed chaplain, was never in his service, but was a minister,
instituted by Bishop Murdo Mackenzie into the kirk of Daviot, who had
given up his charge in consequence of bodily infirmity; and he (Grant)
was most desirous, and cheerfully offered, to give all the evidences and
demonstrations of his loyalty and affection to the government that could
be demanded. Yet did his majesty’s high commissioner and the lords of
the privy council, find “that the lords commissioners of the district of
Moray had proceeded conform to their instructions, in fining the Laird
of Grant, and ordained the same to be put to execution, ay and while the
said fine be fully satisfied and paid.”
About this time, rumours of Argyle’s intended invasion having reached
the council, they published what they called the king’s act of indemnity
to all below the rank of heritors and burgesses; but all who were
capable of paying a fine being excepted, it was considered as a just
“demonstration of Our innate clemency, which also has shined in the
whole line of our royal race;” and as it declared “Our resolution to
imitate our said dearest royal brother,” the Presbyterians anticipated
that they would reap little advantage from such a boon. Nor were they
mistaken; or if they had been so, the council would soon have undeceived
them; for on the 10th, they gifted to the Laird of Pitlochie, one
hundred of the prisoners “who were willing to go to the plantations,”
only excluding such as were able to be fined—“all heritors who had above
£100, Scots, rents.”
Nor did the wanton massacre in the fields intermit. Subalterns intrusted
with the power of life and death abused it, as might have been expected;
and the most valuable of the Scottish peasantry were destroyed by a
licentious soldiery, who delighted to indulge in riot with the worst;
but now their outrages deplorably increased, especially those in the
south and west, where a Cornet Douglas and a Lieutenant Murray eminently
distinguished themselves in this cowardly warfare. Claverhouse went
still farther, and endeavoured to ruin the peace of mind, as well as
plunder the estates and torture the bodies, of the sufferers. On the
10th of March, he parcelled out Annandale and Nithsdale into a number of
divisions, of about six or eight miles square. He then assembled the
whole inhabitants, men and women, old and young, belonging to each of
them in one place, and made them swear the oaths of allegiance and
abjuration, and afterwards promise that they would renounce their hopes
of heaven, if ever they repented of what they had done! If any one
refused, he was carried to a little distance from the rest, a napkin
tied over his face, and blank cartridge fired over his head. Having thus
suffered the terror of death, he was once more offered his life upon
taking the test and becoming bound to inform against all disloyal
persons. Few were able to withstand so trying a compulsitor. But perhaps
the most heartless trait in his conduct, was his treatment of the
children. Those above six and under ten years of age were collected
together, and a party of soldiers being drawn out before them, they were
bid pray, for they were going to be shot; and when the terrified
creatures answered—“Sir, we cannot pray,” they were told they would be
let free if they would tell where they saw men with guns in their
houses, and if they got any meat or drink there.
Among the villanous apostates who associated with the wanderers, on
purpose to betray them, was Andrew Watson, who got acquainted with many
of their hiding-places throughout Galloway and Nithsdale, and among
others of a cave near Ingliston, which had been a secret and secure
retreat to many for several years. He gave information of it. In
consequence, Colonel James Douglas and Lieutenant Livingstone surprised
five lurking within it; among whom was a brother of the proprietor of
the estate, John Gibson. He was first taken out; and being permitted to
pray, he went through his devotional exercises with a cheerfulness that
astonished his murderers, and greatly encouraged his sister, who through
the compassion of some of the soldiers, had got admission to him,
telling her that was the joyfulest day he had ever had in the world; and
his mother also being allowed to speak with him, he begged her not to
give way to grief, but to bless the Lord upon his account, who had made
him both willing and ready to suffer for his cause. The rest were then
despatched, without being allowed formally to pray. They lie buried in
Glencairn churchyard. Another wretch of the same description, an
Alexander Ferguson of Kilkerran, informed against John Semple, one of
the excellent of the earth, who led a quiet and peaceable life, nor had
ever carried arms or had been connected with any disturbance, only he
came not to church to hear the Episcopal minister, and did sometimes
relieve the poor. A party at midnight, guided by the informer, came to
his house, and after seeing them shoot the good man, while attempting to
escape at a window, the miscreant went with the murderers to the barns
of Bargeny, and caroused with them till next night.
Towards the end of this month, three women—Margaret Maclauchlin, a widow
about sixty-three years of age; Margaret Wilson, aged eighteen; and
Agnes Wilson, aged thirteen—were brought to trial before the commission
court, composed of the Laird of Lag, Colonel David Graham, sheriff,
Major Windham, Captain Strachan, and Provost Cultrain, indicted for
rebellion, Bothwell Bridge, Airs-moss, and being present at twenty
conventicles. The absurdity of the charges carried their own refutation.
But this was not sufficient, there was no proof produced; but they
refused to swear the abjuration-oath, and were therefore condemned to be
drowned. On the last day of April, the council, when the subject was
laid before them, suspended the execution of the sentence for an
indefinite time, and recommended to the secretaries to procure a
complete remission; but the voice of mercy, though uttered by the
council on behalf of helpless females, could not be listened to. The
only argument that had any effect was money; and the afflicted father
was allowed to purchase, with nearly the whole of his worldly substance,
the life of his youngest daughter. Windram guarded the others to the
place of execution, where an immense number of spectators assembled to
witness the unusual sight. The old woman’s stake was fixed much further
in the sands than her companion’s, and thus was first despatched. When
the water was overflowing her, one of the persecutors asked her what she
thought of that sight? She answered, “What do I see? Christ and his
members wrestling there. Think you we are the sufferers? No! it is
Christ in us; for he sends none a warfare on their own charges.” She
then sung the 25th Psalm from the 7th verse, and read the 8th chapter of
the Romans, and then prayed. While engaged in prayer, the water covered
her. She was then dragged out by Windram’s orders, and when sufficiently
recovered to speak, was asked if she would pray for the king. She
answered, she wished the salvation of all men, and the damnation of
none. “Dear Margaret,” urged a bystander, deeply affected, “Dear
Margaret, say—God save the king; say—God save the king!” She replied
with great composure—“God save him if he will; it is his salvation I
desire!” on which, it is said, Lag bellowed out—“Damned bitch! we do not
want such prayers:—tender the oaths to her;” which she refused, and was
immediately thrust under the water.
Sir James Johnstone of Wester-raw, another hypocritical turncoat who had
sworn the covenants and was now a zealous apostle of Episcopacy, evinced
his ardour in the cause, by ordering the corpse of one of the wanderers
who had died in the house of Widow Hislop, to be dug out of his grave
and exposed. The house they pillaged and pulled down, and turned the
widow and her children to the fields. Her son had been previously
murdered by Wester-raw, to whom Claverhouse had brought him; yet while
procuring his death, the latter seemed to have some compunctious
visitations, for he said to his associates, ere the deed was
perpetrated, “The blood of this poor man be upon you, Wester-raw—I am
free of it.”
[Illustration:
_The christian Carrier shot by Claverhouse anno 1685._
_Vide page 529_
Edin^r. Hugh Paton, Carver & Gilder to the Queen 1842.
]
May-day morning was dewed this year with the blood of John Brown, in
Priestfield, a carrier to his employment, distinguished by the
honourable title, or, as they called it, nicknamed, “The Christian
Carrier.” Having performed Airs-moss between five and six
o’clock—fearless of danger, for he was blameless in life—he had gone out
to cast peats in the field. While thus engaged, he was suddenly
surrounded by Claverhouse with three troops of horse, and brought back
to his humble dwelling. After the usual questions, Claverhouse said to
him—“Go to your prayers, for you shall immediately die.” He did so; but
when praying, the impatient assassin thrice interrupted him, saying—“I
gave you time to pray, and ye’re begun to preach.” John turning calmly
round upon his knees, replied—“Sir, you know neither the nature of
preaching nor praying, that calls this preaching,” and then continued
without confusion. When he had ended, Claverhouse said, “Take good-night
of your wife and children.” She was standing weeping, with an infant in
her arms, and another child of his first wife beside her. He came near
and said, “Now, Marian, the day is come that I told you would come when
I first spoke to you of marrying me.”—“Indeed, John,” she replied, “I
can willingly part with you.”—“Then,” answered he, “that’s all that I
desire. I have no more to do but die. I have been in case to meet with
death for many years.” He kissed his wife and bairns, and wished
purchased and promised blessings to be multiplied upon them. When he had
finished, Claverhouse ordered six of his men to fire, which they did;
and the most part of the bullets striking, splintered his skull, and
scattered his brains upon the ground.[161] “What thinkest thou now of
thy husband, woman?” asked Claverhouse. “I ever thought much good of
him,” she replied; “and as much now as ever.”—“It were but justice to
lay thee beside him,” said the murderer.—“If ye were permitted,”
answered the new made widow, “I doubt not but your cruelty would go that
length:—but how will ye make answer for this morning’s work?”—“To man,”
said he, “I can be answerable; and as for God I will take him in my own
hand,” and mounting his horse, marched off with his troop. The poor
woman, left with the corpse of her husband lying before her, set the
bairns upon the ground, and gathered his brains, and tied up his head,
and straighted his body, and covered him with her plaid, and sat down
and wept; it being a very desert place, where never victual grew, and
far from neighbours. Claverhouse afterwards repeatedly confessed, that
he never could altogether forget Brown’s prayer.
Footnote 161:
Wodrow says the men refused, and Claverhouse pistolled the good man
with his own hand.
Amid these bloody scenes, a parliament was convoked, April 28, to
confirm the despotism by which they were enacted, for so subservient had
those assemblies now become, that, like the parliaments of Paris, they
met only to register the royal edicts. The Duke of Queensberry was the
commissioner. In his first message to his first high court, James
frankly told them that his main design was to give them an opportunity
not only “of showing their duty to Us in the same loyal manner as they
had done to Our late dearest brother, but likewise of being patterns to
others in their exemplary compliance with Our desires as they had most
eminently been in times past, to a degree never to be forgotten by Us;
but also of protecting religion against fanatical contrivances,
murderers, and assassins, and to take care that such conspirators might
meet their just deservings.”
The speeches of the Commissioner and Chancellor echoed the letter, and
inveighed against the persecuted Presbyterians, as wretches of such
monstrous principles and practices, as past ages never heard, nor those
to come will hardly believe, whose extirpation his majesty asked, as no
more rebels against their king, than enemies of mankind. The address
followed in a strain of adulation and abject baseness, clearly evincing
the absence of every right-hearted man from the meeting. “We can assure
your majesty,” said they, “that the subjects of this your majesty’s
ancient kingdom, are so desirous to exceed all their predecessors in
extraordinary marks of affection and obedience, that, God be praised!
the only way to be popular with us is to be eminently loyal;” “and
therefore your majesty may expect that we will think your commands
sacred as your person, and that your inclination will prevent our
debates.”
Their first act was “an act ratifying and confirming all the acts and
statutes formerly passed for the security, liberty, and freedom of the
true church of God and the Protestant religion.” Their next, an offer of
their lives and fortunes to the king, accompanied by a declaration of
their abhorrence and detestation, not only of the authors and actors of
all preceding rebellions against the sovereign, but likewise all
principles and positions which are contrary or derogatory to the king’s
sacred, supreme, sovereign, absolute power and authority, which none,
whether persons or collective bodies, can participate of any manner of
way, or upon any pretext, but in dependance on him, and by commission
from him. All persons summoned as witnesses against frequenters of
conventicles, who refused to answer, were to be reputed guilty of the
same crimes as the persons accused—to administer or receive the
covenants, or even to write in their defence, was declared treason.
Field preachers were already subjected to confiscation or death. Hearing
was now made liable to the same punishment, which was also extended to
preachers in house conventicles, expounding the Scriptures, or even
worshipping God in a private house. If there were more than five
persons, in addition to the family, present, it was to be considered as
an house-conventicle; but if any were listening outside, it was to be
reputed a field-conventicle, for which the whole congregation, with the
preacher, were to suffer death. At the same time, the test was extended,
with exemptions only favourable to the papists. Then, as a final winding
up of this scene of iniquity, followed the forfeiture of Sir John
Cochrane, Sir Patrick Home, Lord Melville, Pringle of Torwoodlee, Stuart
of Cultness, Fletcher of Saltoun, and several other gentlemen,
implicated in the late conspiracy with Cessnock and his son, whose
estates, together with those of Argyle, Douchal, and Jarvieswood, were
annexed for ever to the crown; while to preserve their own estates from
a similar fate, the act of entail was passed, professing to secure the
estates of the nobles, but in fact enabling them to evade the just
claims of their creditors.
Meanwhile the Scottish exiles, reduced to despair, resolved to attempt
the liberation of their native land, with which they had never ceased to
hold a secret correspondence; and after many meetings in Holland, an
expedition set sail on the 2d of May, of which Argyle was elected
General, and the expense supplied by Mrs Smith, a rich sugar baker’s
widow, at Amsterdam; but accounts of his preparations had been sent to
the government, and measures were taken to frustrate his object before
his arrival, which were increased on the council’s receiving notice from
the Bishop of Orkney, that the Earl had touched there on his passage.
The strengths in Argyleshire were ordered to be dismantled, and the sons
of the chiefs to be sent as hostages to Edinburgh; and all the
non-conformist prisoners, about two hundred and fifty, were, on May
18th, hurried off under night from the jails of Edinburgh and Canongate,
and sent across the Firth in open boats to Burntisland, and confined for
two days and nights in two small rooms, where they had no space almost
to lie down, and no place to retire to. Nor had they any provisions, and
only a few were allowed to purchase a little bread and water.
When it was imagined hunger and fatigue would have worn out their powers
of endurance, liberty was offered them on condition of swearing the
oaths of allegiance and supremacy; but many who could have taken the
first refused the last as blasphemous. To acknowledge a papist as the
head of Christ’s church, was what they durst not do. About forty
complied and were released, the rest were driven like cattle to Dunotter
Castle—an old, ruinous building, in the county of Kincardine, situated
on an almost insulated perpendicular rock, 150 feet above the level of
the sea, where they were received by George Keith of Whiteridge,
sheriff-depute of Mearns, and thrust into a dark vault, with only one
small window towards the sea, and full of mire ancle deep. They had no
provision but what they were forced to purchase, at a dear rate and of
the worst quality, from the governor’s brother. Even their water was
brought in small quantities, though their keepers would sometimes pour
whole barrels into the cavern to increase their discomfort. Means of
cleanliness they had none, and the smell of the place became so noxious,
for it was a warm summer, that several of them died; and it was
considered little less than miraculous that any survived.
Within a few days, the governor removed about forty of the men to
another low small cell, scarcely less disagreeable, as the only light or
air they had was through a small crevice in the wall, near which they
used to lie down by turns, that they might breathe a little fresh air.
Shortly after, the governor’s lady having visited these miserable
abodes, prevailed upon her husband to separate the prisoners; and the
females were removed from the large vault into two more comfortable
smaller apartments. The men, however, continued to suffer the utmost
misery in the large vault, and a contagious disorder having broken out
among them, many died. The survivors, reduced to desperation,
endeavoured to escape, and having got out one night by the window, were
creeping along the hazardous precipice, when an alarm was given by some
women—most probably the soldiers’ wives—who were washing near the rock.
Immediately the guards were called, the gates shut, and the hue and cry
raised, and fifteen were intercepted; yet twenty-five had got off before
the alarm was given. Those who were retaken, were most inhumanly
tortured. They were laid upon their backs upon a form, their hands bound
down to the foot of the form, and a burning match put between every
finger—“six soldiers attending by turns to blow the matches,” and keep
them in flame—and this was continued for three hours without
intermission by the governor’s orders! Several died under this torture,
and those who survived were disabled for life. About July, in
consequence of representations to the council, the prisoners were
brought south, and the Earls Marishal, Errol, Kintore, Panmure, and the
Lord President of the Court of Session, empowered to call them before
them, and banish such as would not take the oaths of allegiance and
abjuration, to his majesty’s plantations—the men having their ears cut
off, the women their cheeks branded—with certification that such as
should return to the kingdom should incur the pain of death.
Unfortunately for the success of Argyle’s expedition, while the Scottish
government were fully apprised of its approach, adverse winds and
untoward circumstances retarded its progress; so that when the Earl
arrived, he found he had been anticipated by the measures of the
council; and where he expected willing vassals, he met only heartless or
deceitful adherents; but the worst symptom was the insubordination of
his officers, especially Sir Patrick Home and Sir John Cochrane, who
disputed when they ought to have obeyed, and argued when they should
have acted. In such circumstances, after landing, he lost instead of
gathering strength as he advanced, while the ships and military stores
he left behind in the Castle of Ellengreg, fell, together with it, into
the hands of some English frigates, which arrived on the coast. He
published two proclamations, but they produced no effect, and unhappily
were even counteracted from quarters whence, if he had not received
decided support, it was not too much to have expected a friendly
neutrality.
The wanderers, although they were favourable to Argyle, unfortunately
could not embark with him, upon account of the too promiscuous
admittance of persons to trust in that party, and because they could not
espouse his declaration as the state of their quarrel. But they
published another declaration at Sanquhar, May 28, 1685, against the
usurpation of a bloody papist advancing himself to the throne, as the
height of confederacy with an idolater, forbidden by the law of God and
contrary to the law of the land.
Thwarted at every step, and prevented from following his own brave
resolution, and giving the enemy battle, Argyle was at last, either by
treachery or mistake, landed in a morass, where his baggage and horse
were swamped, and universal confusion ensuing, his little band, which
had with difficulty been collected and kept together, despersed during
the night. Argyle himself, forced to withdraw, was retiring in the
disguise of a peasant, when he was attacked in crossing the Cart at
Inchannon (June 17th) by two of the militia, with whom he grappled, and
would have overcome, had not five more arrived and wounded and secured
him. When falling, he had exclaimed—“Alas! unfortunate Argyle,” which
first discovered him to his captors, who appeared deeply concerned at
his seizure, but durst not let him go. He was immediately carried to
Edinburgh, where the marked ignominy with which he was treated, bore
strong testimony to the high estimation in which the illustrious
prisoner was held. By an especial order of the council, dated June 20th,
he was conducted through the Water-gate, and carried up the main streets
to the Castle, with his hands bound and his head bare, preceded by the
hangman, and surrounded by Captain Graham’s guards; and there he was
safely lodged in irons. In the privy council, it was debated whether he
should be tried for his present rebellion or executed upon his former
sentence. The most iniquitous proposition of the two prevailed, in which
the king of course concurred, only he suggested the propriety of the
Earl’s being tortured before he was executed, in order to try if any
information could be elicited respecting those who had assisted or who
were acquainted with the expedition. His openness upon his examination
prevented his persecutors incurring the infamy which the royal mandate
implied, and he was ordered to prepare for execution next day after the
receipt of the royal letter.
The interval he spent with a cheerful tranquillity, which soothed his
afflicted relatives and amazed his political antagonists. Being
accustomed to sleep a little after dinner, on his last solemn day he
retired to his closet, and laid himself down on bed, and for about a
quarter of an hour slept as sweetly as ever he did. At this moment an
officer of state came to inquire for him. Being informed that he was
asleep and desired not to be disturbed, the officer, who doubted the
story, insisted upon being admitted to his lordship. He was admitted
accordingly, but instantly rushed from the apartment to a friend’s house
on the Castle Hill, and threw himself on a bed in great agony of mind.
When asked by the lady of the house if he was unwell or would take a
glass of sack—“No! no!” replied he; “I have been at Argyle, and saw him
sleeping as pleasantly as ever a man did, within an hour of eternity;
but as for me——.”
The Earl left the Castle, accompanied by a few friends; and while
waiting in the laigh council-house, wrote a farewell letter to his
Countess. “Dear Heart,—As God is of himself unchangeable, so he hath
been always good and gracious to me, and no place alters it; only I
acknowledge I am sometimes less capable of a due sense of it. But now,
above all my life, I thank God I am sensible of his presence with me,
with great assurance of his favour through Jesus Christ, and I doubt not
will continue till I be in glory. Forgive me all my faults; and now
comfort thyself in Him in whom only true comfort is to be found. The
Lord be with thee, bless thee, and comfort thee. My dearest—adieu.” He
also wrote the following to his daughter-in-law, Lady Sophia
Lindsay:—“My dear Lady Sophia,—What shall I say in this great day of the
Lord, wherein, in the midst of a cloud, I find a fair sunshine? I can
wish no more for you, but that the Lord may comfort you and shine upon
you, as he doth upon me, and give you the same sense of his love in
staying in the world, as I have in going out of it. Adieu. ARGYLE.—P.S.
My blessing to dear Earl Balcarras. The Lord touch his heart and incline
him to his fear.”
He was accompanied to the scaffold by Mr Annand, dean of Edinburgh,
appointed by the council, and Mr Laurence Charteris, named by himself.
Before they left the council-house, the Earl pleasantly asked Mr Annand,
“If he thought the Pope was that antichrist the Scripture speaks of?” He
answered, “Yes, my lord, the Protestant churches hold so.”—“But what
think you?” asked the Earl.—“I think so too,” replied Mr Annand.—“Then,”
said the Earl, “be sure you instruct the people so.” When they had
mounted the scaffold, Mr Charteris exhorted him if there were any sin
unrepented of to lay it open before God, who is ready to forgive all
penitent sinners. The Earl regretted, as the chief, that he had set too
little time apart to wrestle with God in private, in behalf of his work
and interest, and for his own poor soul; also that he did not worship
God in his family so much as he ought to have done; likewise his public
failings. Here Mr Annand interrupted him; but without taking notice of
the interruption, he lamented that he did not improve the three years’
respite the Lord had given him, so much for his glory and the
advancement of his work, as he might have done in his station; and he
looked on his death as a just punishment from God, though undeserved at
the hands of men, and added, “I would have thought as little to have
appeared in this place some time of day after this manner, as many of
you who are now satiating your eyes in beholding me; but the Lord in his
divine wisdom hath ordered it otherwise, and I am so far from repining
and carping at his dispensations towards me, that I bless his name and
desire to give him endless praise and thanks for the same.” The
clergymen then prayed, after which the Earl fell down on his knees, and
having his face covered and his hands clasped together, prayed in
silence for a considerable time. Upon rising, he delivered a speech he
had previously composed, expressive of his cheerful submission to the
divine will, and his willingness to forgive all men, even his enemies.
“Afflictions,” he said, “are not only foretold, but promised to
Christians. We are neither to despise nor faint under them; nor are we
by fraudulent pusillanimous compliance in wicked courses to bring sin
upon ourselves. Faint hearts are ordinarily false hearts, choosing sin
rather than suffering—a short life with eternal death, before temporal
death and a crown of glory.” “I know many like Hazael go to excesses
they never thought they were capable of.” He then prayed God to send
peace and truth to these three kingdoms; to continue and increase the
glorious light of the gospel, and restrain a spirit of profaneness,
atheism, oppression, popery, and persecution; and was about to conclude,
when it was suggested to him that he had said nothing about the royal
family; he added, “this remembers me that before the justices, at my
trial about the test, I said that at my death I would pray that there
might never want one of the royal family to be a defender of the true,
ancient, apostolic, Catholic, and Protestant faith, which I now do; and
may God enlighten and forgive all of them that are either hid in error
or have shrunk from the profession of the truth; and in all events, I
pray God may provide for the security of his church, and that antichrist
nor the gates of hell may never prevail against it.”
When he had ended, he turned to the south side of the scaffold, and
said, “Gentlemen, I pray you do not misconstruct my behaviour this day.
I freely forgive all men their wrongs and injuries done against me, as I
desire to be forgiven of God.” Mr Annand repeated these words louder to
the people. The Earl then went to the north side of the scaffold, and
had the same or like expressions. Mr Annand again repeated them, adding,
“This nobleman dies a Protestant;” on which Argyle stepped forward
again, and said, “I die not only a Protestant, but with a heart hatred
of popery, prelacy, and all superstition whatsomever.” Returning to the
middle of the scaffold, he embraced and took leave of his friends,
delivering to Lord Maitland some tokens to be given to his lady and
children; then he stript himself of his upper garments, which he also
gave to his friends, and kneeling, embraced the instrument of death,
saying, “It was the sweetest maiden he ever kissed, it being a mean to
finish his sin and misery, and his inlet to glory, for which he longed.”
Having prayed a little in silence, he said aloud three times—“Lord Jesus
receive me into thy glory;” and lifting up his hand, the sign agreed
upon, the executioner let the knife of the maiden fall, and his head was
severed from his body.
The misfortunes and death of this excellent nobleman did not destroy the
cause for which he suffered. The universal sympathy they excited, from
the diffusion of his speech, which was widely circulated, aided by
concurring circumstances, accelerated rather than retarded the event of
his country’s liberation. His vassals, however, were cruelly treated by
Atholl and Breadalbane. Upwards of twenty of the name of Campbell were
put to death, and more than fifty sent to the plantations. Their houses
were pulled down, their mill-stones broken, the woods burned, and the
whole shire of Argyle cruelly ravaged for thirty miles round Inverary;
his estate was given to strangers, his children scattered, his creditors
defrauded, and his brother, Lord Neil Campbell, forced to go as an exile
to America.
Besides Argyle, very few of any note suffered upon this occasion. These
were—Colonel Rumbold, known by the name of the maltster, who underwent a
form of a trial; but being severely wounded, lest he should have
disappointed their revenge, the council had prescribed the mode of his
death the day before,[162] according to which he was taken from the bar
to the scaffold, supported by two officers, and preceded by the hangman
with his hat on. When he attempted to explain his principles, the drums
beat, at which he shook his head and said, “Will they not suffer a dying
man to speak his last words to the people?” And even when praying for
the extirpation of popery, prelacy, and other superstitions, the drums
again drowned his voice. He then silently breathed out his soul to God,
and giving the signal, the executioner turned him off. Ere yet dead, his
heart was torn from his bosom, and exhibited, while still palpitating on
the point of a bayonet, to the people by the hangman, who bawled
out—“Here is the heart of a bloody murderer and traitor,” and threw it
disdainfully into the fire. His quarters were distributed through the
country and his head fixed on an high pole at the West Port of
Edinburgh.
Footnote 162:
When before the council, he expressed his joy in suffering for such a
cause, on which one of the gang called him “a confounded villain.” He
sedately replied, “I am at peace with God through Jesus Christ; to men
I have done no wrong—what, then, can confound me?”
Some time after, Mr Thomas Archer, a popular preacher, now in the last
stage of a decay. Having been wounded severely, much interest was made
to obtain his liberation, as he was evidently dying; even the Duke of
Queensberry’s own son entreated his father for his life, without effect.
Nothing would satisfy the rulers but his blood. A plan had been laid for
his escape out of prison, but he would not consent, saying, that since
he could not serve his Master in any other manner, he thought it his
duty not to decline a testimony for him and for his truth by a public
death on the scaffold. He was several times interrupted when addressing
the spectators, but enough was heard to evince that he died steady to
his principles, rejoicing in hope, and anticipating deliverance for the
church, notwithstanding the then threatened visitation of popery. “I
will bring them to Babylon, and there will I deliver them,” would, he
believed, be accomplished in their case. He sung the latter part of the
73d Psalm, and prayed. Before being turned off, he said—“Fear of death
does not fright or trouble me; I bless the Lord for my lot,” and
submitted with cheerfulness to the hands of the executioner. He was
about thirty-two years of age, of uncommon abilities, and very learned.
Ayloffe was sent to London and examined by James in person. He was
related to the royal family, and the king pressed him to make
discoveries. “You know,” said the tyrant, “it is in my power to save
you.”—“Yes,” replied Ayloffe, “but it is not in your nature.” He was
hanged accordingly.
Sir W. Denholm of Westshiels, Mr James Stuart, and Mr Gilbert Elliot,
were condemned in absence, and ordered to be executed when apprehended;
the Earl of Loudon, Dalrymple of Stair, Fletcher of Saltoun, with a
number of other gentlemen of rank and fortune, were forfeited, whose
only crimes were their estates, and the charges their having honestly
fulfilled their duties as public men.
Of the prisoners at Leith, many of whom had been brought back from
Dunotter, about seventy-two were ordered for banishment; but in the
greatness of their humane condescension, the council came to Leith and
sat in the tolbooth to re-examine them, when such as made some moderate
compliances, a few who were sickly, and others who had friends, got
free; for government were now beginning to relax in their severities, in
contemplation of extending the same or greater freedom to the Roman
Catholics; but a number who still unyieldingly adhered to their tenets,
were given as a present to the Laird of Pitlochie, and shipped by him
for his plantations in New Jersey.[163] They, however, had scarcely left
land, when a malignant fever broke out, especially among those who had
been confined in Dunotter. Most of the crew also died, as did Pitlochie
and his lady; yet, notwithstanding, the captain and some other hardened
wretches would not suffer the persecuted exiles to worship God in peace,
but when they heard them engaged in their devotions, threw down great
planks of wood in order to annoy them. After their arrival, Pitlochie’s
son-in-law claimed the prisoners as his property, but the governor
remitted the case to a jury, who immediately freed them. The greater
part retired to New England, where they were kindly received; and many
of them settled in the colony. Others returned to their native country
at the Revolution.
Footnote 163:
The following incident was much spoken of at the time. Mr W. Hanna,
one of these prisoners, on being threatened with banishment, told the
council he was now too old to work or go to war. General Dalziel
bitterly replied, “But you are not too old to hang.” On that same day,
the General, in the act of drinking a glass of wine, was suffocated,
and went to his own place.
About the latter end of this year, John Nisbet of Hardhill, with three
of his fellow-sufferers, was surprised by a relation of his own,
Lieutenant Nisbet, in a house in the parish of Fenwick. They defended
themselves bravely, till the three were killed and he was wounded and
taken. When tauntingly questioned what he thought of himself now? “I
think,” he replied, “as much of Christ and his cause as ever; but I
judge myself at a loss, being in time, and my dear brethren, whom you
have murdered, being in eternity.” He was sent to Edinburgh, and, on his
examination before the council, behaved with much Christian fortitude.
Being asked if he would own the king’s authority? He said he would not.
“Why?” said they; “do you not own the Scriptures and Confession of
Faith?”—“I own both,” he replied, “with all my heart, but the king is a
Roman Catholic; and I have not only been educated a Presbyterian, but
solemnly sworn against owning popery.”
The council ordered him to be prosecuted before the justiciary. His
confession was adduced against him, and he was sent to follow those who
had not counted their lives dear unto them, that they might finish their
course with joy, and set to their seals to the truth. “Now,” said he, in
his last testimony, “we see open doors, that are made wide, to bring in
popery and set up idolatry in the Lord’s covenanted land. Wherefore, it
is the indispensable duty of all who have any love to God, or to his
Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, to witness faithfully, constantly, and
conscientiously, against all that the enemies have done, or are doing,
to the overthrow of the glorious work of reformation. But it will not be
long to the fourth watch, and then will He come in garments died in
blood, to raise up saviours upon Mount Zion to judge the mount of Esau;
and then the house of Jacob and Joseph shall be for fire, and the
malignants, papists, and prelates shall be for stubble, the flame
whereof shall be great. But my generation work being done with my time,
I go to him who loved me, and washed me from all my sins in his own
blood.” And thus, after much, long, and painful suffering (upwards of
twenty years), did this faithful servant enter into the joy of his Lord.
Edward Marshall of Kaemuir, formerly forfeited, was executed along with
him.
From this period we shall meet only with one other public judicial
murder, expressly on account of religion; yet many died in prison and
exile who may be numbered among the martyrs, as having suffered unto
death. Many others were scourged, had their ears cropt, and were sent to
the plantations. The indecent cruelty of their conduct towards pious
women was unworthy of manhood. Thus a number of old women were whipped
at Glasgow; at Dumfries two women were scourged, and the youngest
afterwards sent to New Jersey with Pitlochie, merely because they would
swear no oaths; another poor woman was tied to a man, and both scourged
together through the town, because they would not tell what wanderers
they had harboured, though to have acknowledged the fact would have been
exposing themselves to the gallows. But the banishments, plunderings,
and varied modes of harassing still continued, or were intermitted only
by arbitrary and insidious indulgences, intended to prepare the way for
the introduction of popery.
Without natural affection is one of the peculiar marks of a reprobate,
but the prelatical rulers of Scotland deemed its possession a peculiar
object of punishment. By order of the sheriff of Wigton, a party of his
underlings after destroying the furniture of a Sarah Stuart, the wife of
William Kennedy, in the parish of Cunningham, marched the poor woman,
with a child in her arms, not quite nine months old, to Wigton, a
distance of several miles, forcing her to leave other three behind
without any one to look after them, though the oldest was not nine years
of age. There she was kept eleven weeks prisoner, though a conformist
herself, because she would not engage never to converse with her
husband, nor consent to discover him! And another, Jean Dalziel, a
tenant of Queensberry’s, was banished for the same reason.
Thus closed the year sixteen hundred and eighty-five—a year long
remembered by the sufferers, and which was remarkable also for that
terrible revocation of the edict of Nantz by Louis XIV., which made
Europe resound with tales of horror, equalled only by the retributive
sufferings the descendants of the persecutors endured in the days of
Robespierre, from a revolution whose origin may perhaps be traced back
to the ambition, mis-government, and cruelty of Voltaire’s Louis le
Grand.
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