UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH.
So waiting the arrival and the day of my doom, I continued to abide in
the Tolbooth. Anton Lennox, also waiting, as he said, his bridegroom day
of marriage and coronation, was with me. In the night alone we had some
peace and quiet. For they had turned in upon us, to our horror, that
wind-filled fool, John Gib--whom for his follies, Anton Lennox had
lundered with a stick upon the Flowe of the Deer-Slunk.
With him was Davie Jamie the scholar, now grown well nigh as mad as
himself. Sometimes the jailors played with them, and said, "John, this
is your Sunday's meal of meat!"
Whereupon, so filled with moon-madness were they, that they would refuse
good victual, because it had been given them upon a day with a heathen
name. Or, again, the more ill-set of the prisoners made their game of
them--for they were not all of them that suffered for their faith, who
were with us in the Canongate Tolbooth. But many city apprentices also
that had been in brawls or had broken their indentures. And, truth to
tell, we were somewhat glad of the regardless birkies. For when we were
dull of heart they made sport with us, and we were numerous enough to
keep them from interfering with our worship.
So these wild loons would say:
"Prophesy to us, John Gib, for we know that thou hast the devil ever at
thine elbow. Let us see thy face shining, as it did at the Spout of
Auchentalloch, when ye danced naked and burned the Bible."
And whether it was with our expectant looking for it, or whether the man
really had some devilry about him, certain it is that in the gloom of
the corner, where in his quiet spells he abode, there seemed to be
ofttimes a horrible face near to his own, and a little bluish light
thrown upon his hair and eyes. This was seen by most in the dungeon,
though, for my own part, I confess I could see nothing.
Then he would be taken with accesses of howling, like to a moonstruck
dog or a rutting hart on the mountains of heather. And sometimes, when
the fear of Anton Lennox was upon him, he would try to stop his roaring,
thrusting his own napkin into his mouth. But for all that the devil
within him would drive out the napkin and some most fearsome yells
behind it, as a pellet is driven from a boy's tow gun.
This he did mostly during worship--which was held thrice a day in the
Tolbooth, and helped to pass the time. At such seasons he became fairly
possessed, and was neither to hold nor bind. So that for common they had
to bring Anton Lennox to him with a quarter-staff, with which he
threatened him. And at sight of old Anton, Gib, though a big strong man,
would run behind the door and crouch there on his hunkers, howling
grievously like a dog.
He was ordered into leg-irons, but his ravings pleased the Duke of York
so much (because that he wanted to tar us all with the same stick) that
he had them taken off. Also he bade give him and David Jamie as much
paper and ink as ever they wanted, and to send him copies of all that
they wrote, for his entertainment. But in time of worship after this,
Anton Lennox ordered four of the strongest and biggest men to sit upon
John Gib, streeked out on the floor, as men sit together upon a bench in
the kirk at sermon-hearing. And we were glad when we fell on this plan,
for it discouraged the devil more than anything, so that he acknowledged
the power of the gospel and quit his roaring.
Yet I think all this rough play kept up our hearts, and stayed us from
thinking all the time upon that day of our bitter, final testifying,
which was coming so soon. To make an end now of Muckle John Gib, I heard
that he was sent by ship to the colonies, and that in America he gained
much honour among the heathen for his converse with the devil. Nor did
the godly men that are there, ever discover Anton Lennox's weighty
method of exorcism--than which I ween there is none better, for even the
devil needs breath as well as another.
But for all this, there was never an hour that chimed, but I would wake
and remember that at the sound of a trumpet the port might any moment be
opened and I be summoned forth to meet my doom. And Anton Lennox dealt
with me there in the Cannongate Tolbooth for my soul's peace, and that
very faithfully. For there were not wanting among the prisoners those
that made no scruple to call me a sword-and-buckler Covenanter, because
I would not follow them in all their protests and remonstrances. But
Anton Lennox warred with them with the weapons of speech for the both of
us, and told them how that I had already witnessed a good confession and
that before many witnesses. He said also that there would not be wanting
One, when I had overpassed my next stage, to make confession of William
Gordon before the angels of heaven. Which saying made them to cavil no
more.