THE SWEET SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK.
Now my father had drilled it into me that Anton Lennox, called the
Covenanter, was a good and sound-hearted man, even as he was doubtless a
manifest and notable Christian. But the tale concerning him that most
impressed me and touched my spirit nearest, was the tale of how he
served Muckle John Gib and his crew, after godly Mr. Cargill had
delivered them over to Satan.
It was Sandy, my brother, that was the eye-witness of the affair. He was
ever of the extreme opinion--as my mother used often to say, "Our Sandy
was either in the moon or the midden"--but in my judgment oftenest in
the latter.
Yet I will never deny that he has had a great deal of experience, though
I would rather want than have some of it. Now at this time, Sandy,
perhaps by means of his wife, Jean Hamilton (who, like her brother
Robert, was just inordinate for preachings and prophesyings), was much
inclined to kick over the traces, and betake himself to the wilder
extremes that were much handled by our enemies for the purpose of
bringing discredit on the good name of the Covenants.
There was one great hulking sailor of Borrowstounness that was specially
afflicted with these visions and maunderings. Nothing but his own crazy
will in all things could satisfy him. He withdrew himself into the waste
with two or three men and a great company of feeble-minded women, and
there renounced all authority and issued proclamations of the wildest
and maddest kinds.
The godly and devout Mr. Donald Cargill (as he was called, for his real
name was Duncan) was much exercised about the matter. And finding
himself in the neighbourhood to which these people had betaken
themselves, he spared no pains, but with much and sore foot-travel he
found them out, and entered into conference with them. But John Gib, who
could be upon occasion a most faceable and plausible person, persuaded
him to abide with them for a night. Which accordingly he did, but having
wrestled with them in prayer and communing half the night, and making
nothing of them, presently he rose and went out into the fields most
unhappy. So after long wandering he came homeward, having failed in his
mission. Then it was that he told the matter to old Anton Lennox, who
had come from Galloway to attend the great Society's Meeting at Howmuir.
With him at the time was my brother Sandy, and here it is that Sandy's
story was used to commence.
And of all Sandy's stories it was the one I liked best, because there
was the least chance of his having anything about himself to tell.
"I mind the day"--so he began--"a fine heartsome harvest day in
mid-September. We had our crop in early that year, and Anton, my father
and I, had gotten awa' betimes to the Societies' meeting at Lesmahagow.
It was in the earliest days of them--for ye maun mind that I am one o'
the few surviving original members. We were a' sitting at our duty, when
in there came into the farm kitchen where we abode, Mr. Donald Cargill
himself. He was leaning upon his staff, and his head was hanging down.
We desisted from our worship and looked at him steadfastly, for we saw
that the hand of the Lord had been upon him and that for grief. So we
waited for the delivery of his testimony.
"'My heart is heavy,' he said at long and last, 'for the people of the
wilderness are delivered over to the gainsayer, and that by reason of
John Gib, called Muckle John, sailor in Borrowstounness, and presently
leading the silly folks astray.' Then he told them how he had wrestled
with the Gibbites mightily in the Spirit, and had been overthrown.
Whereat he was notified that the hearts of all those that hated the Way
would be lifted up.
"He also brought a copy of the foolish sheet called the 'Proclamation of
the Sweet Singers,' which was much handed about among all the
persecutors at this time, and made to bring terrible discredit on the
sober and God-fearing folk of the South and West, who had nothing
whatever to do with the matter.
"'Let me see it,' said Anton Lennox, holding out his hand for it.
"Mr. Cargill gave it to him, saying sadly, 'The Spirit will not always
strive with them!'
"'Na,' said Auld Anton, 'but I'll e'en strive wi' them mysel'! Reek me
doon Clickie!'
"He spoke of his great herd's stave that had a shank of a yard and a
half long and was as thick as my wrist.
"'Come you, Sandy,' he cried over his shoulder as he strode out, 'and ye
will get your bellyful of Sweet Singing this day!'
"Now I did not want to move for the exercise was exceeding pleasant. But
my father also bade me go with Auld Anton, and as you know, it was not
easy to say nay to my father.
"It was over a moor that we took our way--silent because all the wild
birds had by with their nesting, and where Mr. Cargill had left the
company of John Gib was in a very desert place where two counties met.
But Auld Anton went stegging[4] over the hills, till I was fair driven
out of my breath. And ever as he went he drove his staff deeper and
dourer into the sod.
[Footnote 4: Walking rapidly with long steps.]
"It was a long season before we arrived at the place, but at last we
came to the top of a little brow-face, and stood looking at the strange
company gathered beneath us.
"There was a kind of moss-hag of dry peat, wide and deep, yet level
along the bottom. Down upon the black coom was a large company of women
all standing close together and joining their hands. A little way apart
on a mound of peat in the midst, stood a great hulk of a fellow, with a
gown upon him, like a woman's smock, of white linen felled with purple
at the edges. But whenever it blew aside with the wind, one saw
underneath the sailor's jerkin of rough cloth with the bare tanned skin
of the neck showing through.
"'Certes, Master Anton,' said I, 'but yon is a braw chiel, him wi' the
broad hat and the white cock ontill the bob o't!'
"And indeed a brave, braw, blythesome-like man he was, for all the
trashery of his attire. He kept good order among the men and women that
companied with him in the Deer-Slunk. There were thirty of
them--twenty-six being women--many of them very respectable of family,
that had been led away from their duty by the dangerous, persuading
tongue of John Gib. But Auld Anton looked very grim as he stood a moment
on the knowe-top and watched them, and he took a shorter grip of the
cudgel he carried in his hand. It was of black crabtree, knotted and
grievous.
"'John Gib!' cried Anton Lennox from the hilltop suddenly in a loud
voice:
"The great sea slug of a man in the white petticoat turned slowly round,
and looked at us standing on the parched brae-face with no friendly eye.
"'Begone--ye are the children of the devil--begone to your father!' he
cried back.
"'Belike--John Gib--belike, but bide a wee--I am coming down to have a
word or two with you as to that!' replied Auld Anton, and his look had a
smile in it, that was sour as the crab-apples which his cudgel would
have borne had it bidden in the hedge-root.
"'I have come,' he said slowly and tartly, 'that I might converse
seriously with you, John Gib, and that concerning the way that you have
treated Mr. Donald Cargill, an honoured servant of the Lord!'
"'Poof!' cried John Gib, standing up to look at us, while the women drew
themselves together angrily to whisper, 'speak not to us of ministers.
We deny them every one. We have had more comfort to our souls since we
had done with ministers and elders, with week-days and fast-days, and
Bibles and Sabbaths, and came our ways out here by ourselves to the
deeps of the Deer-Slunk!'
"'Nay,' said Old Anton, 'ministers indeed are not all they might be. But
without them, ye have proved yourself but a blind guide leading the
blind, John Gib! Ye shall not long continue sound in the faith or
straight in the way if ye want faithful guides! But chiefly for the
fashion in which ye have used Mr. Cargill, am I come to wrestle with
you,' cried Anton.
"'He is but an hireling,' shouted Muckle John Gib, making his white gown
flutter.
"'Yea, Yea, and Amen!' cried the women that were at his back. But Davie
Jamie, Walter Ker, and John Young, the other three men who were with
him, looked very greatly ashamed and turned away their faces--as indeed
they had great need.
"'Stand up like men! David Jamie, Walter Ker, and John Young!' cried
Anton to them, 'Do ye bide to take part with these silly women and this
hulker from the bilboes, or will ye return with me to good doctrine and
wholesome correction?'
"But the three men answered not a word, looking like men surprised in a
shameful thing and without their needful garments.
"'Cargill me no Cargills!' said John Gib; 'he is a traitor, a led
captain and an hireling. He deserted the poor and went to another land.
He came hither to us, yet neither preached to us nor prayed with us.'
"John Young looked about him as John Gib said this, as though he would
have contradicted him had he dared. But he was silent again and looked
at the ground.
"'Nay,' said Auld Anton, 'that is a lie, John Gib; for I know that he
offered to preach to you, standing with his Bible open between his hands
as is his ordinary. But ye wanted him to promise to confine his
preaching to you--which when he would not consent to do, ye were for
thrusting him out. And he came home, wet and weary, with the cold
easterly wet fog all night upon the muir, very melancholy, and with
great grief for you all upon his spirit!'
"Then at this John Gib became suddenly very furious and drew a pistol
upon us. This made Anton Lennox laugh.
"'I shall come down and wrestle with your pistols in a wee, John Gib.
But I have a word to say to you all first.'
"He stood awhile and looked at them with contempt as if they were the
meanest wretches under heaven, as indeed they were.
"'You, John Gib, that lay claim to being a wizard, I have little to say
to you. Ye have drawn away these silly folk with your blasphemous
devices. Your name is legion, for there are many devils within you. You
are the herd of swine after the devils had entered into them. Hath your
master given you any word to speak before I come down to you?'
"'Ay,' said John Gib, leaping up in the air and clapping his hands
together as if he would again begin the dance, which, accompanied by a
horrid yowling like that of a beaten dog, they called Sweet Singing.
"'Ay, that I have! Out upon you, Anton Lennox, that set up for a man of
God and a reprover of others. I alone am pure, and God dwells in me. I
lift up my testimony against all the months of the year, for their names
are heathen. I alone testify against January and February; against
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday; against Martinmas and holidays, against
Lammas-day, Whitsun-day, Candle-mas, Beltan, stone crosses, saints'
images, Kelton Hill Fair and Stonykirk Sacrament. Against Yule and
Christmas, old wife's fables, Palm Sunday, Carlin Sunday, Pasch, Hallow,
and Hogmanay; against the cracking of nits and the singing of sangs;
again all romances and story-buiks; against Handsel Monday, kirks,
kirkyairds and ministers, and specially against cock-ups in the front o'
the Sabbath bonnets o' ministers' wives; against registers, lawyers and
all lawbooks----'
"He cried out this rigmarole at the top of his voice, speaking
trippingly by rote as one that says his lesson in school and has learned
it often and well. He rolled his eyes as he recited, and all the women
clapped their hands and made a kind of moaning howl like a dog when it
bays the moon.
"'Yea, Yea, and Amen!' they cried after him, like children singing in
chorus.
"'Peace, devil's brats all!' cried Anton Lennox, like a tower above
them.
"And they hushed at his word, for he stood over them all, like one
greater than man, till even Muckle John Gib seemed puny beside the old
man.
"'David Jamie, hearken to me, you that has your hand on your bit
shable.[5] Better put up your feckless iron spit. It will do you no
good. You are a good scholar lost, and a decent minister spoiled. I
wonder at you--a lad of some lear--companying with this hairy-throated,
tarry-fisted deceiver.'
[Footnote 5: Short sword.]
"This David Jamie was a young limber lad, who looked paler and more
delicate than the others. What brought him into the company of mad men
and misguided women, it is perhaps better only guessing.
"He looked sufficiently ashamed now at all events.
"'Walter Ker and John Young, hearken ye to me; I have more hope of you.
You are but thoughtless, ignorant, land-ward men, and the Lord may be
pleased to reclaim you from this dangerous and horrible delusion.'
"Anton Lennox looked about him. There was a fire smouldering at no great
distance from him. Something black and square lay upon it. He took three
great strides to the place. Lifting the dark smouldering object up from
off the fire, he cried aloud in horror, and began rubbing with his
hands. It was a fine large-print Bible, with more than half of it burned
away. There were also several little ones upon the fire underneath. I
never saw a man's anger fire up more quickly. For me, I was both amazed
and afraid at the awful and unthinkable blasphemy.
"'John Gib,' cried Anton Lennox, 'stand up before the Lord, and
answer--who has done this?'
"'I, that am the head of the Sweet Singers, and the Lord's anointed!'
said he. 'I have done it!'
"'Then, by the Lord's great name, I will make you sing right sweetly for
this!' cried Anton, taking a vow.
"Then one of the women took up the parable.
"'We heard a voice in the Frost Moss,' she said, 'and a light shone
about us there; and John Gib bade us burn our Bibles, for that the
Psalms in Metre, the chapter headings, and the Table of Contents were
but human inventions.'
"'And I did it out of despite against God!' cried John Gib.
"Then Anton Lennox said not a word more, but cast away his plaid, spat
upon his cudgel-palm, and called over his shoulder to me:
"'Come, Sandy, and help me to wrestle in the Spirit with these Sweet
Singers.'
"As he ran down the brae, David Jamie, the student youth, came at him
with a little spit-stick of a sword, and cried that if he came nearer he
would run him through.
"'The Lord forgie ye for leein', callant,' cried Anton, catching the
poor thin blade on his great oak cudgel, for Anton was a great player
with the single-sticks, and as a lad had been the cock of the
country-side. The steel, being spindle-thin, shivered into twenty
pieces, and the poor lad stood gaping at the sword-hilt left in his
hand, which had grown suddenly light.
"'Bide you there and wrestle with him, Sandy!' Auld Anton cried again
over his shoulder.
"So I took my knee and tripped David up. And so sat up upon him very
comfortable, till his nose was pressed into the moss, and all his
members sprawled and waggled beneath me like a puddock under a stone.
"Then Auld Anton made straight for John Gib himself, who stood back
among his circle of women, conspicuous in his white sark and with a
pistol in his hand. When he saw Auld Anton coming so fiercely at him
across the peat-hags, he shot off his pistol, and turned to run. But his
women caught hold of him by the flying white robe, thinking that he was
about to soar upward out of their sight.
"'Let me be,' he cried, with a great sailor oath; and tearing away from
them, he left half the linen cloth in their hands, and betook him to his
heels.
"Anton Lennox went after him hot foot, and there they had it, like
coursing dogs, upon the level moor. It was noble sport. I laughed till
David Jamie was nearly choked in the moss with me rocking to and fro
upon him. Anton Lennox was twice the age of John Gib, but Muckle John
being a sailor man, accustomed only to the short deck, and also having
his running gear out of order by his manner of life, did exceedingly
pant and blow. Yet for a time he managed to keep ahead of his pursuer.
But there was no ultimate city of refuge for him.
"Anton Lennox followed after him a little stiffly, with a grim
determined countenance; and as he ran I saw him shorten his cudgel of
crabtree in his hand. Presently he came up with the muckle man of
Borrowstounness. The great stick whistled through the air, soughing like
a willow-wand. Once, twice, thrice--it rose and fell.
"And the sound that ensued was like the beating of a sack of meal.
"'I'll learn you to burn the Bible!' cried Anton, as he still followed.
His arm rose and fell steadily while John Gib continued to run as if the
dogs were after him. The great hulk cried out with the intolerable pain
of the blows.
"'I'll mak' ye Sweet Singers a', by my faith! I'll score ilka point o'
your paper screed on your back, my man--Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Pasch,
Beltan, and Yule!'
"At the Yule stroke John Gib fell into a moss-hole. We could not easily
see what followed then. But the grievous cudgel steadfastly rose and
fell like the flail of a man that threshes corn in a barn, and a howling
and roaring that was aught but sweet singing came to us over the moor.
"Presently Anton returned, striding back to where I sat upon David Jamie
his back.
"'Rise!' he said. And that was all he said.
"But he took his foot and turned the bit clerk over, pulling him out of
the moss with a _cloop_ like the cork being drawn out of a brisk bottle
of small ale.
"'David, lad, do ye renounce John Gib and all his ways?'
"The limber-limbed student looked doubtful, but the sight of the cudgel
and the distant sound of the sweet singing of Muckle John decided him.
"'Ay,' he said. 'I am content to renounce them and him.'
"'See ye and stick to it then!' said Anton, and went after Walter Ker
and John Young, who stood together as though they had gotten a dead
stroke.
"'Ye saw visions, did ye?' he said. 'See ye if this be a vision?'
"And he gave them certain dour strokes on their bodies, for they were
strong carles and could bide the like--not like the poor feckless loon
of a colleger.
"'Did ye see a light shining in the moss late yestreen?' he asked them.
"'It was but glow-worms!' said Walter Ker.
"'It was, aiblins, Wull-o'-the-Wisp?' said John Young.
"'Ay, that's mair like the thing, noo!' said Auld Anton, with something
like a smile on his face.
"So saying he drove all the women (save two or three that had scattered
over the moss) before him, till we came to the place of the ordinary
Societies' Meeting at Howmuir, from which we set out.
"Here were assembled sundry of the husbands of the women--for the black
shame of it was, that the most part of them were wives and mothers of
families, of an age when the faults of youth were no longer either
temptation or excuse.
"To them he delivered up the women; each to her own husband, with
certain advice.
"'I have wrestled with the men,' he said, 'and overcome them. Wrestle ye
with the women, that are your own according to the flesh. And if ye
think that my oaken stave is too sore, discharge your duty with a birch
rod, of the thickness of your little finger--for it is the law of the
realm of Scotland that every husband is allowed to give his wife
reasonable correction therewith. But gin ye need my staff or gin your
wives prefer it, it is e'en at your service.'
"So saying, he threw his plaid over his shoulder, and made for the door.
"'Learn them a' the sweet singin',' he said. 'John Gib was grand at it.
He sang like a mavis oot by there, on the moor at the Deer-Slunk.'"
This was the matter of Sandy's cheerful tale about John Gib and Auld
Anton Lennox.
And this cured Sandy of some part of his extremes, though to my thinking
at times, he had been none the worse of Auld Anton at his elbow to give
him a lesson or two in sweet singing. I might not in that case have had
to buy all over again the bonny house of Earlstoun, and so had more to
spend upon Afton, which is now mine own desirable residence.