Chapter III: Part 3

20. After this, he longed to be out of Ireland, through the fearful apprehensions of that dismal day of rebellion in Ireland, that came upon it four years thereafter, and that he might take part with the sufferers in Scotland. He came near the coast one morning: John Muirhead came to him; lying within a hedge: he said, Have you any news, John? John said, There is great fear of the Irish rising. He said, no, no, John, the time of their arising is not yet; but they will rise, and dreadful will it be at last. He was long detained waiting for a bark, not daring to go to public parts, but to some remote creek of the sea. Alexander Gordon of Kinstuir, in Galloway, had agreed with one, but Mr. Peden would not sail the sea with him, having some foresight of what he did prove afterwards.--In the beginning of August before this, Kinstuir was relieved at Enterken-path, going from Dumfries to Edinburgh prisoner; when the news of it came to Ireland, our Scots sufferers, their acquaintance, were glad of the news, especially that Kinstuir had escaped. Mr. Peden said, What means all this Kinstuiring?--There is some of them relieved there, that one of them is worth many of him; for ye will be ashamed of him ere all be done. Being in this strait, he said to Robert Wark, an old worthy Christian, worthy of credit, Robert, go and take such a man with you and the first Bark ye can find, compel them, for they will be like the dogs in Egypt, not one of them will move their tongue against you. Accordingly Robert and his comrade found it so and brought her to that secret place where he was. When Robert and his comrade came and told him, he was glad and very kind and free; but he seemed under a cloud at that time. He said lads, I have lost my prospect wherewith I was wont to look over to the bloody land, and tell you and others what enemies and friends were doing; the devil and I puddles and rides time-about upon one another: but if I were uppermost again, I shall ride hard, and spurgaw well. I have been praying for a swift passage over to the sinful land, come of us what will: and now Alexander Gordon is away with my prayer-wind; but it were good for the remnant in Scotland he never saw it; for as the Lord lives, he shall wound that interest ere he go off the stage.--This sadly came to pass in his life, and was a reproach to it at his death. A little before they came off, he baptised a child to John Maxwell, a Glasgow man, who was fled ever from the persecution: in his discourse before baptism, he burst out into a rapture, foretelling that black day that was to come upon Ireland, and sad days to Scotland, and after all there was to come good days. Mrs. Maxwell, or Mary Elphingston, the mother of the child, yet alive in Glasgow, told me this, That in the time he was asserting these things, she was thinking and wondering what ground of assurance he had for them, when he cried aloud shaking his hand at her, woman, thou art thinking and wondering within thyself, whether I be speaking these things out of the visions of my own head, or if I be taught by the Spirit of God; I tell thee, woman, thou shalt live and see that I am not mistaken. She told me, that she was very lately delivered, and out of her great desire to have her child baptised before he came off, that she took travail too soon; and being weak, and so surprised with his telling her the thoughts of her heart, that she was in danger of falling off the chair. At this exercise also he told them, that he could not win off till he got this done, and this was all the drink-money, he had left in Ireland, and to the family (pointing to the landlord) for all the kindness he had met with from them. After baptism they got breakfast; there was plenty of bread upon the table, seeking a blessing, he put his hand beneath the bread, and holding it up with much affection and tears, said, “Lord there is a well covered table, and plenty of bread: but what comes of the poor young, kindly, honest hearted lad Renwick, that shames us all, in starving and holding up his fainting mother’s head, when of all the children she has brought forth, there is none will avowedly take her by the hand: and the poor, cold, hungry lads on the hills? For honour of thine own cause, let them not starve: thou caused a ravenous bird, greedy of flesh itself, to feed Elijah: and thou fed thy people in the wilderness with angel’s food: and blessed a few loaves and small fishes, and made them sufficient for many; and had experience of want, weariness cold and hunger, and enemies daily hunting for thy life, while in the world; look to them, and provide for them.” The Waiters being advertised of the bark being in that place, they and other people came upon them, which obliged them that were to come off, to secure the Waiters and people altogether, for fear of the garrison of Carrickfergus apprehending them, being near to it, which obliged them to come off immediately, twenty-six of our Scots sufferers came aboard, he stood upon the deck and prayed, there being not the least wind, where he made a rehearsal of times and places, when and where the Lord had heard and answered them in the days of their distress and how they were in a great strait.--Waving his hand to the west, from whence he desired the wind, he said, ‘Lord give a loof-full of wind: fill the sails Lord and give us a fresh gale, and let us have a swift passage over to the bloody land, come of us what will.’--John Muirhead, Robert Wark, and others who were present, told me, that when he began to pray, the sails were all hanging straight down, but ere he ended, they were all like blown bladders. They put out the Waiters and other people and got a very swift and safe passage.--The twenty-six Scots sufferers that were with him, having provided themselves with arms, and being designed to return to Scotland, there being then such a noise of killing; and the report was no greater than the deed, it being then in the heat of killing time, in the end of Febuary 1685. when at exercise in the bark, he said, ‘Lord thou knowest these lads are hot spirited, lay an arrest upon them, that they may not appear; their time is not yet; though Monmouth and Argyle be coming, they will work no deliverance.’ At that time there was no report of their coming, for they came not for ten weeks thereafter.--In the morning after they landed, he lectured before they parted, sitting upon a brae-side, where he had fearful threatenings against Scotland saying, the time was coming that they might travel many miles in Galloway and Nithsdale, Ayr and Clydesdale, and not see a reeking house, nor hear a cock crow.

28. When the day of his death drew near, and not being able to travel, he came to his brother’s house, in the parish of Sorn, where he was born. He caused dig a cave with a saughen bush covering the mouth of it, near to his brother’s house and the enemies came and searched the house narrowly many times. In the time that he was in this cave, he said to some friends, 1. That God shall make Scotland a desolation. 2. There shall be a remnant in the land, whom God should spare and hide. 3. They should lie in holes and caves of the earth, and be supplied with meat and drink: And when they come out of their holes, they shall not have freedom to walk, for stumbling on the dead corpses. 4. A stone cut of a mountain, should come down, and God shall be avenged on the great ones of the earth, and the inhabitants of the land, for their wickedness, and then the church should come forth with a bonny bairn-time of young ones at her back. He wished that the Lord’s people might lie hid in their caves, as if they were not in the world, for nothing would do it, until God appeared with his judgments, and they that wan through the bitter and sharp, short storm, by the sword of the Frenches, and a set of unhappy men, taking part with them, then there would be a spring-tide day of the plenty, purity and power of the gospel: Giving them that for a sign, If he were but once buried, they might be in doubts; but if he were oftener buried than once, they might be persuaded that all he had said would come to pass: And earnestly desired them to take his corpse out to Airdsmoss, and bury them beside Richy (meaning Mr. Cameron) that he might get rest in his grave, for he had gotten little through his life; but he said he knew they would not do it.

29. Within forty-eight hours he died, January 28th. 1686, being past sixty years; and was buried in the Laird of Afflect’s Isle. The enemies got notice of his death and burial, and sent a troop of dragoons, and lifted his corpse and carried him to Cumnock-gallows foot, and buried him there (after being forty days in the grave) beside others. His friends thereafter laid a grave-stone above him, with this inscription:

HERE LIES
MR. ALEXANDER PEDEN,
A Faithful Minister of the Gospel,
at Glenluce,
Who departed this life January 28, 1686,
And was raised after six weeks
Out of his Grave,
And buried here out of contempt.

FINIS.

THE LIFE

AND

WONDERFUL PROPHECIES

OF

DONALD CARGILL.

Who was Executed at the Cross
of Edinburgh, on the 26th July, 1680.
For his adherence to the Covenant,
and Work of
REFORMATION

GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.

THE

LIFE OF

MR DONALD CARGILL.

Mr Cargill seems to have been born some time about the year 1610. He was eldest son of a most respected family in the parish of Rattray. After he had been some time in the schools of Aberdeen, he went to St Andrew’s, where having perfected his course of philosophy, his father pressed upon him much to study divinity, in order for the ministry; but he thought the work was too great for his weak shoulders, and requested to command him to any other employment he pleased. But his father still continuing to urge him, he resolved to set apart a day of private fasting, to seek the Lord’s mind therein. And after much wrestling with the Lord by prayer, the third chapter of Ezekiel, and chiefly these words in the first verse, “Son of man, eat this roll and go speak unto the house of Israel”, made a strong impression on his mind, so that he durst no longer refuse his father’s desire, but dedicated himself wholly unto that office.

After this, he got a call to the Barony Church of Glasgow, It was so ordered by Divine providence, that the very first text the presbytery ordered him to preach upon, was these words in the third of Ezekiel, already mentioned, by which he was more confirmed, that he had God’s call to this parish. This parish had been long vacant, by reason that two ministers of the Resolution party, viz. Messrs Young and Blair, and still opposed the settlement of such godly men as had been called by the people. But in reference to Mr Cargill’s call, they were in God’s providence, much bound up from their wonted opposition. Here Mr Cargill, perceiving the lightness and unconcerned behaviour of the people under the word, was much discouraged thereat, so that he resolved to return home, and not accept the call, which, when he was urged by some godly ministers not to do, and his reason asked, he answered they are a rebellious people. The ministers solicited him to stay, but in vain. But when the horse was drawn, and he just going to begin his journey, being in the house of Mr Durham, when he had saluted several of his Christian friends that came to see him take horse, as he was taking farewell of a certain godly woman, she said to him, “Sir, you have promised to preach on Thursday, and have you appointed a meal for poor starving people, and will you go away and not give it? If you do, the curse of God will go with you.” This so moved him, that he durst not go away as he intended; but sitting down, desired her and others to pray for him. So he remained and was settled in that parish, where he continued to exercise his ministry with great success, to the unspeakable satisfaction both of his own parish, and all the godly that heard and knew him, until that, by the unhappy Restoration of Charles II. Prelacy was again restored.

Upon the 26th of May following, the day consecrated in commemoration of the said Restoration, he had occasion to preach in his own church, it being his ordinary week-day’s preaching, when he saw an unusual throng of people come to hear him, thinking he had preached in compliance with that solemnity. Upon entering the pulpit, he said, ‘We are not come here to keep this day upon the account for which others keep it. We thought once to have blessed the day, wherein the King came home again, but now we think we shall have reason to curse it; and if any of you come here in order to the solemnizing of this day, we desire you to remove.’ And enlarging upon these words in the 9th of Hosea, Rejoice not, O Israel, &c. he said, ‘This is the first step of our going a-whoring from God; and whoever of the Lord’s people this day are rejoicing, their joy will be like the crackling of thorns under a pot, it will soon be turned to mourning; he (meaning the king) will be the wofullest sight ever the poor church of Scotland saw; wo, wo, wo unto him, his name shall stink while the world stands for treachery, tyranny, and lechery.’

This did exceedingly enrage the malignant party against him, so that being hotly pursued, he was obliged to abscond, remaining sometimes in private houses, and sometimes lying all night without, among broom near the city, yet never omitting any proper occasion of private preaching, catechising, and visiting of families, and other ministerial duties, but at length, when the churches were all vacated of Presbyterians by an act of Council, 1662, Middleton sent a band of soldiers to apprehend him, who, coming to the church, found him not, he having providentially just stepped out of the one door a minute before they came in at the other; whereupon they took the keys of the church door with them, and departed.--In the mean while the Council passed an act of confinement banishing him to the north side of the Tay, under penalty of being imprisoned, and prosecuted as a seditious person.--But this sentence he no ways regarded.

During this time, partly by grief for the ruin of God’s work in the land, and partly by the toils and inconveniences of his labours and accommodation, his voice became so broken, that he could not be heard by many together, which was a sore exercise to him, and discouragement to preach in the fields; but one day Mr Blackatter coming to preach near Glasgow, he essayed to preach with him, and standing on a chair, as his custom was, he lectured on Is. xliv. 3. “I will pour water on him that is thirsty, &c.” The people were much discouraged, knowing his voice to be sore broken, lest they should not have heard by reason of the great confluence. But it pleased the Lord to loose his tongue, and to restore his voice to such a distinct clearness, that none could easily exceed him; and not only his voice, but his spirit was so enlarged, and such a door of utterance given him, that Mr Blackatter, succeeding him, said to the people, ‘Ye that have such preaching, have no need to invite strangers to preach to you; make good use of your mercy.’ After this he continued to preach without the city, a great multitude attending and profiting by his ministry, being wonderfully preserved in the midst of dangers, the enemy several times sending out to watch him, and catch something from his mouth whereof they might accuse him, &c.

In October 1665, they made a public search for him in the city. But he, being informed, took horse, and rode out of town, and at a narrow pass of the way, he met a good number of musqueteers. As he passed them, turning to another way on the right-hand, one of them asked him, Sir, what o’clock is it? he answered, It is six. Another of them knowing his voice, said, There is the man we are seeking.--Upon hearing this, he put spurs to his horse, and so escaped.

For about three years he usually resided in the house of one Margaret Craig, a very godly woman, where he lectured morning and evening to such as came to hear him. And tho’ they searched strictly for him here, yet providence so ordered it, that he was either casually or purposely absent, for the Lord was often so gracious to him, that he left him not without some notice of approaching hazard. Thus, one Sabbath, as he was going to Woodside to preach, as he was about to mount his horse, having one foot in the stirrup, he turned about to his man, and said, I must not go yonder to-day.--And in a little a party of the enemy came there in quest of him; but missing the mark they aimed at, they fell upon the people, by apprehending and imprisoning several of them.

Another of his remarkable escapes was at a march made for him in the city, where they came to his chamber, and found him not, being providentially in another house, that night.--But what is most remarkable, being one day preaching privately in the house of one Mr Callander, they came and beset the house; the people put him and another into a window, closing the window up with books. The search was so strict, that they searched the very ceiling of the house, until one of them fell through the lower loft.--Had they removed but one of the books, they would certainly have found him. But the Lord so ordered that they did it not; for as one of the soldiers was about to take up one of them, the maid cried to the commander, that he was going to take her master’s books, and he was ordered to let them be. Thus narrowly he escaped this danger.

Thus he continued until the 23d of November 1667, that the Council, upon information of a breach of his confinement, cited him to appear before them on the 11th of January thereafter. But when he was apprehended, and compeared before the Council and strictly examined, wherein he was most singularly strengthened to bear faithful testimony to his Master’s honour, and his persecuted cause and truths; yet by the interposition of some persons of quality, his own friends, and his wife’s relations, he was dismissed, and presently returned to Glasgow, and there performed all the ministerial duties.

Some time before Bothwell, notwithstanding all the searches that were made for him by the enemy, which were both strict and frequent, he preached publicly for eighteen Sabbath-days to multitudes, consisting of several thousands, within a little more than a quarter of a mile of the city of Glasgow; yea, so near it, that the psalms, when singing, were heard through several parts, of it; and yet all this time uninterrupted.

At Bothwell, being taken by the enemy, and struck down to the ground with a sword, seeing nothing but present death for him having received several dangerous wounds in the head, one of the soldiers asked his name; he told him it was Donald Cargill; another asked him, if he was a minister? He answered, he was; whereupon they let him go. When his wounds were examined, he feared to ask if they were mortal, desiring, in admission to God, to live, judging that the Lord had yet further work for him to accomplish.

Some time after the battle at Bothwell, he was pursued from his own chamber out of town, and forced to go through several thorn hedges. But he was no sooner out, than he saw a troop of dragoons just opposite to him; back he could not go, soldiers being posted every where to catch him; upon which he went forward, near by the troop, who looked to him, and he to them, until he got past. But coming to the place of the water at which he intended to go over, he saw another troop standing on the other side, who called to him but he made them no answer. And going about a mile up the water, he escaped, and preached at Langside next Sabbath, without interruption. At another time, being in a house beset with soldiers, he went through the midst of them, they thinking it was the goodman of the house and escaped.

After Bothwell, he fell into a deep exercise anent his call to the ministry; but, by the grace and goodness of God, he soon emerged out of that, and also got much light anent the duty of the day, being a faithful contender against the enemy’s usurped power, and against the sinful compliance of ministers, in accepting the indulgence, with indemnities, oaths, bonds, and all other corruptions.

There was a certain woman in Rutherglen, about two miles from Glasgow, who, by the instigation of some, both ministers and professors, was persuaded to advice her husband to go but once to hear the curate, to prevent the family being reduced; which she prevailed with him to do. But going the next day after to milk her cows, two or three of them dropt down dead at her feet, and Satan, as she conceived, appeared unto her; which cast her under sad and sore exercises and desertion; so that she was brought to question her interest in Christ, and all that had formerly passed betwixt God and her soul, and was often tempted to destroy herself, and sundry times attempted it: Being before known to be an eminent Christian, she was visited by many Christians; but without success: still crying out she was undone; she had denied Christ, and he had denied her. After continuing a long time in this exercise, she cried for Mr Cargill, who came to her, but found her distemper so strong, that for several visits he was obliged to leave her as he found her to his no small grief. However, after setting some days apart on her behalf, he at last came again to her; but finding her no better, still rejecting all comfort, still crying out, that she had no interest in the mercy of God, or merits of Christ, but had sinned the unpardonable sin; he, looking in her face for a considerable time, took out his Bible, and naming her, said, “I have this day a commission from my Lord and Master, to renew the marriage contract betwixt you and him; and if ye will not consent, I am to require your subscription on this Bible, that you are willing to quit all right, interest in, or pretence unto him:” and then he offered her pen and ink for that purpose. She was silent for some time; but at last cried out, “O! salvation is come unto this house. I take him; I take him on his own terms, as he is offered unto me by his faithful ambassador.” From that time her bands were loosed.

One time Mr Cargill, Mr Walter Smith, and some other Christian friends, being met in a friend’s house in Edinburgh, one of the company told him of the general bonding of the Western gentlemen for suppressing field meetings, and putting all out of their grounds who frequented them. After sitting silent for some time, he answered, with several heavy sighs and groans, “The enemy have been long filling up the cup; and ministers and professors must have time to fill up their’s also; and it shall not be full till enemies and they be clasped in one another’s arms; and then, as the Lord lives, he will bring the wheel of his wrath and justice over them altogether.”

Some time after the beginning of the year 1680, he retired toward the Frith of Forth, where he continued until that scuffle at Queensferry, where worthy Haugh-head was killed, and he sorely wounded. But escaping, a certain woman found him in a private place, to the south of the town, and tying up his wounds with her head-cloths, conducted him to the house of one Robert Runtens, in Carlowrie, where a surgeon dressed his wounds and Mrs Puntens gave him some warm milk, and he lay in their barn all night. From thence he went to the south, and next Sabbath preached at Cairnhill, somewhere adjacent to Loudon, in his blood and wounds; for no danger could stop him from going about doing good. His text was in Heb. xi. 32. And what shall I more say, for time would fail me to tell of Gideon, &c. At night, some persons said to him, We think, Sir, preaching and praying go best with you when your danger and distress are greatest. He said, it had been so, and he hoped it would be so, the more that enemies and others did thurst at him that he might fall, the more sensibly the Lord had helped him; and then (as it had been to himself) he repeated these words, The Lord is my strength and song, and has become my salvation, in the 118th Psalm, which was the psalm he sung upon the scaffold.

After this, he and Mr Richard Cameron met and preached together in Dermeid-muir, and other places, until that Mr Cameron was slain at Airs-moss, and then he went north, where, in the month of September following, he had a most numerous meeting at the Torwood, near Stirling, where he pronounced the sentence of excommunication, against some of the most violent persecutors of that day, as formally as the present state of things could then permit. Some time before this, it is said, he was very remote, and spoke very little in company; only to some he said, he had atout to give with the trumpet that the Lord had put in his hand, that would sound in the ears of many in Britain, and other places in Europe also. It is said, that no body knew what he was to do that morning, except Mr Walter Smith, to whom he imparted the thoughts of his heart. When he began, some friends feared he would be shot. His landlord, in whose house he had been that night, cast his coat and ran for it. In the forenoon, he lectured on Ezek. xxi. 25. &c. and preached on 1 Cor. v. 13. and then discoursed some time on the nature of excommunication, and then proceeded to the sentence: after which, in the afternoon, he preached from Lam. iii. 31, 32. For the Lord will not cast off for ever.

The next Lord’s day, he preached at Fallowhill, in the parish of Livingstone. In the preface, he said, “I know I am and will be condemned by many, for excommunicating those wicked men, but condemn me who will, I know I am approven of by God, and am persuaded, that what I have done on earth, is ratified in heaven; for, if ever I knew the mind of God, and was clear in my call to any piece of my generation-work, it was that. And I shall give you two signs, that ye may know I am in no delusion; (1.) If some of these men do not find that sentence binding upon them, ere they go off the stage, and be obliged to confess it, &c. (2.) If these men die the ordinary death of men, then God hath not spoken by me.”

About the 22d of October following, a long and severe proclamation was issued out against him and his followers, wherein a reward of 5000 merks was offered for apprehending him, &c.--Next month, Governor Middleton, having been frustrated in his design upon Mr Cargill at Queensferry, laid another plot for him, by consulting one James Henderson in Ferry, who, by forging and signing letters, in the name of Bailie Adam in Culross, and some other serious Christians in Fife, for Mr Cargill to come over, and preach to them at the hill of Beith. Accordingly, Henderson went to Edinburgh with the letters, and, after a most diligent search, found him in the West Bow. Mr Cargill being willing to answer the call, Henderson proposed to go before, and have a boat, ready at the Ferry when they came; and that he might know them, he desired to see Mr Cargill’s cloth, Mr Skeen and Mr Boig being in the same room. In the mean time, he had Middleton’s soldiers lying at the Mutton-hole, about three miles from Edinburgh. Mr Skeen, Archibald Stuart, Mrs Muir, and Marion Hervey, took the way before, on foot: Mr Cargill and Mr Boig being to follow on horseback. Whenever they came to the place, the soldiers spied them; but Mrs Muir escaped and went and stopped Mr Cargill and Mr Boig, who fled back to Edinburgh.

After this remarkable escape, Mr Cargill, seeing nothing but the violent flames of treachery and tyranny against him, above all others, retired for about three months to England, where the Lord blessed his labours to the conviction and edification of many. In the time of his absence that delusion of the Gibbites arose, from one John Gib sailor In Borrow-stounness, who, with other three men, and twenty six women, vented and maintained the most strange delusions. Some time after, Mr Cargill returned from England, and was at no small pains to reclaim them, but with little success. After his last conference with them, at Darngavel, in Cambusnethen parish, he came next Sabbath, and preached at the Underbank wood, below Lanark, and from thence to Loudon-hill, where he preached upon a fast day, being the 5th of May. Here he intended only to have preached once, and to have baptized some children. His text was, ‘No man that hath followed me in the regeneration, &c.’ When sermon was over, and the children baptized, more children came up; whereupon friends pressed him to preach in the afternoon; which he did, from these words, ‘Weep not for me,’ &c. In the mean while the enemy at Glasgow getting notice of this meeting, seized all the horses in and about the town, that they could come by, and mounted in quest of him; yea, such was their haste and fury, that one of the soldiers, who happened to be behind the rest, riding furiously down the street called the Stockwell, at mid-day, rode over a child, and killed her on the spot. Just as Mr Cargill was praying at the close, a lad alarmed them of the enemy’s approach. They having no sentinels that day which was not their ordinary, were surprised, so that some of them who had been at Pentland, Bothwell, Airs-moss, and other dangers, were never so seized with fear, some of the women, throwing their children from them. In this confusion Mr Cargill was running straight on the enemy; but Gavin Wotherspoon and others haled him to the moss, unto which the people fled. The dragoons fired hard upon them, but there were none either killed or taken that day.

About this time, some spoke to Mr Cargill of his preaching and praying short. They said, “O Sir, it is long betwixt meals, and we are in a starving condition; all is good, sweet, and wholesome, that you deliver, but why do you so straiten us?” He said, “Ever since I bowed a knee in good earnest to pray, I never durst preach, and pray with my gift; and when my heart is not affected, and comes not up with my mouth, I always think it time to quit it. What comes not from the heart, I have little hope it will go to the hearts of others:” Then he repeated these words in the 51st psalm, “Then will I teach transgressors thy way, &c.”

From Loudon hill he took a tour through Ayrshire to Carrick and Galloway, preaching, baptizing, and marrying some people; but staid not long until he returned to Clydesdale. He designed, after his return, to have preached one day at Tinto-hill, but the Lady of St John’s Kirk gave it out to be at Home Common. He being in the house of John Liddel, near Tinto, went out to spend the Sabbath morning by himself; and seeing the people all passing by, he inquired the reason; which being told, he rose and followed them five miles. The morning being warm, (about the 1st of June,) and the heights steep, he was very much fatigued before he got to the place, where a man gave him a drink of water out of his bonnet, and another between sermons; this being the best entertainment he got that day, for he had tasted nothing in the morning. Here he lectured on the 6th of Isaiah, and preached on these words, “Be not high minded, but fear, &c.” From thence he went to Fyfe, and baptised many children, and preached one day at Daven common, and then returned to the Benry-bridge in Cambusnethan, where he received a call from the hands of two men, to come back to Galloway, but got it not answered.

Mr Cargill in that short time, had run very fast towards his end, which now hastens apace. Having left the Benry-bridge, he preached one day at Auchingilloch, and then came to preach his last sermon on Dunsyre common, between Clydesdale and Lothian, upon the text Is. xxvi. 20. “Come my people and enter into your chambers, &c.”

Some time that night, through the persuasion of Mr Smith and Mr Boig, he went with the Lady of St. John’s Kirk, as far as Covington mill, to the house of one Andrew Fisher. In the mean time, James Irvine of Bonshaw, having got a general commission, marched with a party of dragoons from Kilbride, and next morning, by sun-rising, came to St John’s Kirk, and having searched it, he searched also the house of one Thomson, and then came to Covington-mill, and there apprehended him, Mr Smith, and Mr Boig. Bonshaw, when he found them, cried out, O blessed Bonshaw! and blessed day that ever I was born! that has found such a prize! a prize of 5000 merks for apprehending him this morning! They marched hard to Lanark and put them in jail, until they got some refreshment and then brought them out in haste, got horses and set the prisoners on their bare backs. Bonshaw tied Mr Cargill’s feet below the horse’s belly, with his own hand, very hard; at which this man looked down to him, and said, “Why do you tie me so hard, your wickedness is great. You will not long escape the just judgement of God; and, if I be not mistaken it will seize you in this very place.” Which accordingly next year came to pass: for having got this price of blood, one of his comrades, in a rage ran him through with a sword at Lanark: and his last words were, “G--d d----n my soul eternally, for I am gone.” Mischief shall hunt the violent man.

They came to Glasgow in haste, fearing a rescue of the prisoners: and while waiting at the tolbooth, till the magistrates came to receive them, one John Nisbet, the Archbishop’s factor, said to Mr Cargill in ridicule, three times over, Will you give us one word more? (alluding to an expression he used sometimes when preaching); to whom Mr Cargill said with regret, “Mock not, lest your lands be made strong. The day is coming, when you shall not have one word to say though you would.” This also came quickly to pass; for, not many days after, he fell suddenly ill, and for three days his tongue swelled, and though he was most earnest to speak, yet he could not command one word, and died in great torment, and seeming terror.

From Glasgow they were taken to Edinburgh, and, July 15th, were brought before the Council. Chancellor Rothes (being one of those whom he excommunicated at Torwood) raged against him, threatening him with torture and a violent death. To whom he said, “My Lord Rothes, forbear to threaten me, for die what death I will, your eyes shall not see it.”--Which accordingly came to pass; for he died the morning of that day, in the afternoon of which Mr Cargill was executed.

When before the Council, he was asked, if he acknowledged the King’s authority, &c. he answered as the magistrate’s authority is now established by act of parliament, and explanatory act, that he denied the same. Being also examined anent the excommunication at Torwood, he declined to answer, as being an ecclesiastical matter, and they a civil judicatory. He owned the lawfulness of defensive arms, in cases of necessity, and denied that those that rose at Bothwell, &c. were rebels: and being interrogated anent the Sanquhar declaration, he declined to give his judgment until he had more time to consider the contents thereof. He further declared, he could not give his sense of the killing of the Bishop; but that the scriptures say, upon the Lord’s giving a call to a private man to kill, he might do it lawfully; and gave the instances of Jael and Phinehas. These were the most material points on which he was examined.

While he was in prison, a gentlewoman who came to visit him, told him, weeping, “That these Heaven daring enemies were contriving a most violent death for him; some, a barrel with pikes to roll him in; others an iron-chair, red-hot, to roll him in,” &c. But he said, “Let you nor none of the Lord’s people be troubled for these things, for all that they will get liberty to do to me, will be to knit me up, cut me down, and chop off my old head, and then fare them well; they have done with me, and with them for ever.”

He was again before the Council on the 19th, but refusing to answer their questions, except anent the excommunication. There was some motion made to spare him, as he was an old man, and send him prisoner to the Bass during life; which motion being put to a vote, was, by the casting vote of the Earl of Rothes, rejected; who doomed him to the gallows, there to die like a traitor.

Upon the 26th he was brought before the justiciary, and indicted in common form. His confession being produced in evidence against him, he was brought in guilty of high treason, and condemned, with the rest, to be hanged at the cross of Edinburgh, and his head placed on the Nether Bow. When they came to these words in his indictment, viz. having cast off all fear of God, &c. he caused the clerk to stop, and, pointing to the Advocate, Sir George M’Kenzie, said, “The man that hath caused that paper to be drawn up hath done it contrary to the light of his own conscience, for he knoweth that I have been a fearer of God from mine infancy; but that man, I say, who took the Holy Bible in his hand, and said, It would never be well with the land, until that book was destroyed, &c. I say, he is the man that hath cast off all fear of God.” The Advocate stormed at this, but could not deny the truth thereof.

When they got their sentence announced by sound of trumpet he said, “That is a weary sound, but the sound of the last trumpet will be a joyful sound to me, and all that will be found having on Christ’s righteousness.”

Being come to the scaffold, he stood with his back to the ladder, and desired the attention of the numerous spectators; and after singing from the 16th verse of the 118th psalm, he began to speak to three sorts of people; but being interrupted by the drum, he said, with a smiling countenance, “Ye see we have no liberty to speak what we would, but God knoweth our hearts.” As he proceeded, he was again interrupted. Then, after a little pause or silence, he began to exhort the people; and to show his own comfort in laying down his life, in the assurance of a blessed eternity, expressing himself in these words: “Now, I am as sure of my interest in Christ, and peace with God, as all within this Bible and the Spirit of God can make me; and I am fully persuaded, that this is the very way for which I suffer, and that he will return gloriously to Scotland; but it will be terrifying to many; therefore, I entreat you, be not discouraged at the way of Christ and the cause for which I am to lay down my life, and step into eternity, where my soul shall be as full of him as it can desire to be; and now this is the sweetest and most glorious day that ever mine eyes did see. Enemies are now enraged against the way and people of God, but ere long they shall be enraged one against another, to their own confusion.” Here the drums did beat a third time. Then setting his foot on the ladder, he said, “The Lord knows I go on this ladder with less fear, and perturbation of mind, than ever I entered the pulpit to preach.”--When up, he sat down, and said, “Now I am near the getting of the crown, which shall be sure, for which I bless the Lord, and desire all of you to bless him, that he hath brought me here, and made me triumph over devils, men, and sin. They shall wound me no more. I forgive all men the wrongs they have done me; and I pray the sufferers may be kept from sin, and helped to know their duty.” Then having prayed a little within himself, he lifted up the napkin, and said, “Farewell all relations and friends in Christ; farewell acquaintances and earthly enjoyments; farewell reading and preaching, praying and believing, wanderings, reproach, and sufferings. Welcome Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; into thy hands I commit my spirit.” Then he prayed a little, and the executioner turned him over as he was praying; and so he finished his course, and the ministry that he had received of the Lord.

Take his character from Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston, who was his contemporary. He was affectionate, affable, and tender-hearted, to all such as he thought had any thing of the image of God in them; sober and temperate in his diet, saying commonly, It was well won that was won off the flesh; generous, liberal and most charitable to the poor; a great hater of covetousness; a frequent visitor of the sick; much alone, loving to be retired; but when about his Master’s public work, laying hold of every opportunity to edify; in conversation, still dropping what might minister grace to the hearers: his countenance was edifying to beholders; often sighing with deep groans: preaching in season, and out of season, upon all hazards; ever the same in judgment and practice. From his youth, he was much given to the duty of secret prayer, for whole nights together; wherein it was observed, that, both in secret and in families, he always sat straight upon his knees, with his hands lifted up; and in this posture (as some took notice) he died with the rope about his neck.

Besides his last speech and testimony, and several other religious letters, with the lecture, sermon, and sentence of excommunication at Torwood, which, are all published, there are also several other sermons, and notes of sermons, interspersed among some peoples hands, in print and manuscript, some of which have been published. Yet if we may believe Walker, in his remarkable passages, &c. who heard severals of them preached, they are nothing to what they were when delivered; and however pathetical, yet doubtless far inferior to what they would have been, had they been corrected and published by the worthy author himself.

AN ACROSTIC ON HIS NAME.

Most sweet and savoury is thy fame,
And more renowned is thy name,
Surely than any can record,
Thou highly favoured of the Lord.
Exalted thou on earth didst live;
Rich grace to thee the Lord did give.

During the time thou dwelt below,
On in a course to heaven didst go.
Not casten down with doubts and fears,
Assur’d of heaven near thirty years.
Labour thou didst in Christ’s vineyard;
Diligent wast, no time thou spar’d.

Christ’s standard thou didst bear alone,
After others from it were gone.
Right zeal for truth was found in thee,
Great sinners censurd’st faithfully.
In holding truth didst constant prove,
Laidst down thy life out of true love.
June 21, 1741. W. W.

FINIS.

NARRATIVE

OF THE BATTLES

OF

DRUMCLOG,

AND

BOTHWELL BRIDGE.

GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.

THE

BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.

The following Account of the Battles of Drumclog and Bothwell
Bridge, is taken from an American Newspaper, entitled the
‘National Gazette.’ It is written by the Laird of Torfoot, an
officer in the Presbyterian army, whose estate is at this day in
the possession of his lineal descendants of the fifth generation.

“It was a fair Sabbath morning, 1st June 1679, that an assembly of the Covenanters sat down on the heathy mountains of Drumclog. We had assembled not to fight, but to worship the God of our fathers. We were far from the tumult of cities.--The long dark heath waved around us; and we disturbed no living creatures, saving the pees-weep and the heather-cock. As usual, we had come armed. It was for self-defence. For desperate and ferocious bands made bloody raids through the country, and, pretending to put down treason, they waged war against religion and morals. They spread ruin and havoc over the face of bleeding Scotland.

The venerable Douglas had commenced the solemnities of the day. He was expatiating on the execrable evils of tyranny. Our souls were on fire at the rememberance of our country’s sufferings and the wrongs of the church. In this moment of intense feeling, our watchman posted on the neighbouring heights fired his carabine and ran towards the congregation. He announced the approach of the enemy. We raised our eyes to the minister. “I have done,” said Douglas with his usual firmness--“You have got the theory,--now for the practice; you know your duty; self-defence is always lawful. But the enemy approaches.” He raised his eyes to heaven and uttered a prayer--brief and emphatic--like the prayer of Richard Cameron, “Lord, spare the green, and take the ripe.”

The officers collected their men, and placed themselves each at the head of those of his own district. Sir Robert Hamilton placed the foot in the centre, in three ranks. A company of horse, well armed and mounted, was placed on the left; and a small squadron also on the left. These were drawn back, and they occupied the more solid ground; as well with a view to have a more solid footing, as to arrest any flanking party that might take them on the wings. A deep morass lay between us and the ground of the enemy. Our aged men, our females and children retired; but they retired slowly. They had the hearts and the courage of the female and children in those days of intense religious feeling and of suffering. They manefested more concern for the fate of relatives, for the fate of the church than for their own personal safety. As Claverhouse descended the opposite mountain, they retired to the rising ground in the rear of our host. The aged men walked with their bonnets in hand. Their long grey hairs waving to the breeze. They sang a cheering psalm. The music was that of the well-known tune of “The Martyrs;” and the sentiment breathed defiance.--The music floated down on the wind,--our men gave them three cheers as they fell into their ranks. Never did I witness such animation in the looks of men. For me, my spouse and my little children were in the rear. My native plains, and the hills of my father, far below, in the dale of Aven, were in full view from the heights which we occupied. My country seemed to raise her voice--the bleeding church seemed to wail aloud. ‘And these,’ I said, as, Clavers and his troops winded slowly down the dark mountain’s side, ‘these are the unworthy slaves, and bloody executioners, by which the tyrant completes our miseries.’

Hamilton here displayed the hero. His portly figure was seen hastening from rank to rank. He inspired courage into our raw and undisciplined troops. The brave Hackstone, and Hall of Haughhead, stood at the head of the foot, and re-echoed the sentiments of their Chief. Burley and Cleland had inflamed the minds of the horsemen on the left to a noble enthusiasm. My small troop on the right needed no exhortation; we were a band of brothers, resolved to conquer or fall.

The trumpet of Clavers sounded a loud note of defiance--the kettle drum mixed its tumultuous roll--they halted--they made a long pause. We could see an officer with four file, conducting 15 persons from the ranks, to a knoll on their left. I could perceive one in black: it was my friend King, the Chaplain at Lord Cardross, who had been taken by Clavers at Hamilton. ‘Let them be shot through the head,’ said Clavers, in his usual dry way, ‘if they should offer to run away.’ We could see him view our position with great care. His officers came around him. We soon learned that he wished to treat with us. He never betrayed symptoms of mercy or of justice, nor offered terms of reconciliation, unless when he dreaded that he had met his match; and, even then, it was only a manœuvre to gain time or to deceive. His flag approached the edge of the bog. Sir Robert held a flag sacred; had it been borne by Clavers himself he had honoured it. He demanded the purpose for which he came. ‘I come,’ said he, ‘in the name of his sacred Majesty, and of Colonel Graham, to offer you a pardon, on condition that you lay down your arms, and deliver up your ringleaders.’--‘Tell your officer,’ said Sir Robert, ‘that we are fully aware of the deception he practices. He is not clothed with any powers to treat, nor was he sent out to treat with us, and attempt reconciliation. The Government against whom we have risen, refuses to redress our grievances, or to restore to us our liberties. Had the tyrant wished to render us justice, he had not sent by the hand of such a ferocious assassin as Claverhouse. Let him, however, show his powers, and we refuse not to treat; and we shall lay down our arms to treat, provided that he also lay down his. Thou hast my answer.’--‘It is a perfectly hopeless case,’ said Burley, while he called after the flag-bearer.--‘Let me add one word by your leave, General. Get thee up to that bloody dragoon, Clavers, and tell him, that we will spare his life, and the lives of his troops, on condition that he, your Clavers, lay down his arms, and the arms of these troops. We will do more, as we have no prisoners on these wild mountains, we will even let him go on his parole, on condition that he swear never to lift arms against the religion and the liberties of his country.’ A loud burst of applause re-echoed from the ranks; and after a long pause in deep silence, the army sung the following verses of a psalm:--

‘The arrows of the bow he brake:
The shield, the sword, the war.
More glorious thou than hills of prey,
More excellent art far.

Those that were stout of heart are spoil’d,
They sleep their sleep outright;
And none of these their hands did find,
That were the men of might.’