Chapter LI (6)

The story of pillage may be painted in flames; the story of revenge may be recorded in vitriol; the story of carnage may be written in blood; but the story of the horrors that befell the Covenanted families, especially the delicate and helpless members of the household, must not be told. The manner in which fathers, husbands, and brothers stood and died on the door-step in defence of mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters may be related; but the inhumanity that followed must not be mentioned. Purity shudders at the horror; the heart sickens at the thought; the eyes instinctively turn away.

General Dalziel quartered his army upon the Covenanters, sent troops in all directions to raid the country, disinherited those who were engaged in the "Uprising", subjected to arrest all who were suspected, and reduced the people to extremest poverty. The soldiers lived in the homes of the Covenanters, compelled the family to provide boarding, and proudly tyrannized over the household. They devoured, or destroyed the crops; slaughtered, or drove off the flocks and herds; tortured, imprisoned, and shot the people according to their pleasure. The prisons were overcrowded with old and young, men and women, the sickly and the dying.

Three men under the king were chiefly responsible for these atrocities, and all three were reprobate Covenanters. Their names can be mentioned only with abhorrence and detestation; the Earl of Lauderdale, the Earl of Rothes, and Archbishop Sharp. Lauderdale, formerly known as John Maitland, one of the Scotch Commissioners at the Westminster Assembly, shined in that bright galaxy as a morning star; but like Lucifer, son of the morning, he fell from the glory-crested height. Rothes was the son of the Earl of Rothes, celebrated for his active part in the Covenant of 1638. Archbishop Sharp was a Covenanted minister, previous to the restoration of King Charles. Such were the chief actors in these scenes of infernal cruelty practiced upon the Covenanters. Surely they could not have been so atrociously wicked, had they not been previously exalted to heaven in privilege and by profession. Satan could not have been the devil, had he not first been an angel.

Rutherford's pastorate at Anwoth was pleasant and prosperous. His church was filled with people, and his home was the abode of peace. Yet that blessed home was disturbed by the persecutor. Rutherford was condemned, and compelled to abide at Aberdeen as a prisoner, "six quarters of ane yeir." The glory of the Lord was there upon him, and he called his prison, "Christ's Palace."]

Some prisoners taken at Rullion Green were, after their execution, utilized by the government, for the intimidation of the Covenanters. Their heads were set up in public places in various cities, as a gruesome warning to all others. These men, when on the way to Rullion Green, had paused at Lanark to renew their Covenant. There they lifted up the right hand to heaven, making their appeal to God. Now those right hands are cut off and set up on spikes over the gates of the city--a grim admonition to the living.

Some of the prisoners were reserved for the slower process of law, and the severer operations of cruelty. John Neilson became conspicuous through the tortures he endured, the noble spirit he displayed, and the death by which he glorified God. He was a man renowned for his wealth, as well as for great-heartedness. The preceding year Sir James Turner, when commanding the king's troops, despoiled him of his property; yet when that lawless officer had been taken prisoner by the Covenanters, Neilson pleaded for him and saved his life. Now Neilson is in his hands. Will the kindness be returned? Ah, kindness returned! Rather feel for a pulse in the cold granite or look upon the white marble for a loving smile.

The Court questioned Neilson, but his answers were not satisfactory. They tortured him, but could extract nothing further. They thrust one of his legs into an iron boot, and crushed it with a wedge, driven between the flesh and the iron; yet nothing but groans were extorted from him. Filled with wrath, because a confession involving others could not be elicited, they passed the death sentence on him. He went cheerfully to the scaffold.

Hugh M'Kail, a young minister of Jesus Christ, was another victim. He was a man mighty in the Scriptures and full of the Holy Spirit. His lips were touched with a live coal from the altar of God, his eloquence was seraphic. In one of his impassionate outbursts he had said, "The Church in all ages has been persecuted by a Pharaoh on the throne, a Haman in the state, and a Judas in the Church." Archbishop Sharp heard of the terse statement. The lightning had struck the mark. Sharp appropriated the caricature, and saw Judas personified in his own character. He never forgave the young minister.

M'Kail was put on trial for his connection with the Pentland Rising. He candidly confessed his part in the insurrection. The Court then demanded information concerning the leaders; he had none to impart. They then tortured him with the iron boot; the only response was groans. He swooned in the dreadful agony.

This noble young minister was sentenced to die. He received the sentence with serene happiness. When on the scaffold, he was filled with unutterable joy; his victory over fear and death was complete; his soul was clothed with immortal bliss. His highest hopes were now turning into realizations that were ten thousand times brighter and more glorious than his most sanguine expectations. The Lord Jesus was at his side; the heavens were opening to receive him; in a few moments his face would shine in the light that dazzled angels, and his voice would mingle in the chorus of the redeemed round about the throne. What wonder that he poured forth the ecstasy of a transfigured soul in these his last words: "Welcome, God and Father; welcome, sweet Jesus, the Mediator of the new Covenant; welcome, blessed Spirit of grace, and God of all consolation; welcome, glory; welcome, eternal life; welcome, death. O Lord, into Thy hands I commit my spirit; for Thou hast redeemed my soul, Lord God of truth."

These were the winter days of the Church. But the winter was like summer in fruitfulness. How nobly did she endure the inclement season and produce fruit of excellent quality! We are enjoying the summer time of peace and comfort, of privileges and advantages. How much more abundant should be our labors of love than even theirs, in the Lord Jesus Christ! A comparison, we fear, would put us to great disadvantage, perhaps to shame.

* * * * *

POINTS FOR THE CLASS.

1. What cruelties practiced on the Covenanters on Rullion Green field?

2. Describe the wounded Covenanter seeking shelter.

3. What horrors followed the battle?

4. What atrocities committed by Gen. Dalziel's troops?

5. What three men were in great part responsible for the cruelties?

6. Describe the sufferings of John Neilson.

7. Relate the sufferings of Hugh McKail.

8. How did he meet his death?

9. What special advantages have we for serving God?

XXXI.

INDULGENCE, THE SIX-FOLD SNARE.--A.D. 1665.

The Covenanters, after the Pentland Rising, were placed under martial law. Every district was garrisoned and overrun with troops. The military, having been empowered to plunder, pillage, and punish at their caprice, did not hesitate to shoot down innocent people without trial, leaving them weltering in their own blood. King Charles accounted the Covenanters rebels to be subdued with fire and sword. He was determined upon their subjection, or destruction. "Better," said one in his service, "that the land bear whins than whigs." The Covenanters were called whigs; the whins were worthless bushes.

The Covenanters rebels! Be it remembered that Scotland was under a Constitutional government, and the Constitution was embodied in the Covenant. Also, the king and the people had accepted the Covenant on oath. Yet in the face of all this, King Charles attempted to rescind the Covenant, destroy the Constitution, and assume absolute power. Ah, was not Charles the rebel? Was not he the traitor, the revolutionist, the autocrat who attempted to turn things upside down? The Covenanters were the Old Guard, who stood for law, justice, government, and constitutional rights, on the accepted basis--God's law and Covenant. Nor did the Old Guard ever yield the field; they occupy it yet.

True, the Covenanters did decline the king's authority in certain particulars! But were they not justifiable? A glance at the situation will solve the question.

The king, having expelled the Covenanted ministers, substituted others of his own choice. The Covenanters refused to hear them.

The king restricted the Covenanters to their own parishes in public worship. They went where they pleased.

The king forbade marriages or baptisms, except by Episcopal ministers. The Covenanters went to their own ministers for these services.

The king ordered them to observe the Episcopal form of worship. They believed this to be unscriptural, and refused.

The king commanded the people to deliver up their ministers to the authorities for punishment. This they would in no wise do.

The Covenanters rebels, because they declined the king's authority in matters like these? How could they have done otherwise? Two courses lay before them; resist the tyrant's will, or submit as his slaves. Blessed be the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave them light, strength, courage, and victory. These fathers of the Covenant chose to suffer and be free; to endure the king's wrath and keep a pure conscience; to disdain every suggestion of compromise and continue the conflict. The invitation to come down, and consult on the plains of Ono, was answered by its own echo--O, no.

The Covenanters, like the Israelites, flourished while in this great tribulation. They were fruitful, and increased abundantly, and multiplied, and waxed exceeding mighty; and the land was filled with them. The more they were afflicted, the more they multiplied and grew. Their ministers were numbered by hundreds; the people, who assembled in Conventicles, by tens of thousands. Oppression could not crush them; the furnace, though heated seven times more than it was wont, could not singe their garments. Their adversaries became alarmed and began to devise other measures. Their device was diabolical wisdom. Satan, having had more than three thousand years since he failed on Israel in Egypt, was now better up to his work. The king proposed to indulge the ministers. The royal indulgence was surely a product of the bottomless pit. The snare was laid six times and caught many unwary souls.

The people of Scotland delight to do honor to the memory of the martyrs. In many places they hold anniversary meetings on the grounds made memorable by some signal event in the times of persecution. Here is the picture of one of these thrilling meetings, held on the scene of a Conventicle near Loudon-hill.]

The First Indulgence was granted in 1669. The expelled ministers were offered pardon, and permission to return to their churches on certain conditions stipulated by the king. Forty-two accepted the Indulgence, and by that very act conceded the king's right to expel, and to recall, the ministers of Christ, at his own pleasure. The great principles for which they had suffered were thereby sacrificed--the supremacy of the Lord Jesus Christ over His Church, and the Church's independence under Christ.

What were the conditions upon which these ministers returned? We give them in substance:

1. They must attend the meetings of the Prelatic ministers.

2. They must permit none of the people from other parishes to attend their services.

3. They must refrain from speaking or preaching against the king's supremacy.

4. They must not criticize the king or his government.

The Indulgence, with such conditions, was accepted by forty-two ministers. Are we surprised? Do we wonder that so many relaxed under the strain of persecution, and returned to their own vine and fig tree? Let not censure, from her bowers of ease, be too severe. The hardships of these men were great, the sufferings excessive, the outlook dark. They were worn and sickly; they were filled with pain by exposure to storms, living in caves, and sleeping on the ground. Their lives were in jeopardy every hour. Yet it must be said that these ministers sacrificed much for which they had long and nobly battled; they capitulated on terms dictated by the enemy, surrendered their rights as the ambassadors of Christ, and accepted conditions that made them bond servants of King Charles. They were caught in the snare.

The Second Indulgence was issued in 1672. Eighty ministers were selected by the king for this bait, and most of them swallowed it. Yet among the eighty some inflexible men were found on whom the deceitful offer had no effect. They knew how to endure hardness as good soldiers. One of them on receiving the legal notice at the hand of an official said, "I cannot be so uncivil as to refuse this paper offered me by your lordship." Then letting it fall to the ground, he added, "But I can receive no instructions from you, regulating my ministry; for then I would be your ambassador, not Christ's." He was immediately thrust into prison, and continued there till death. The Third Indulgence was another snare, equally deceitful and injurious.

The other three were offered by King James VII., and all were of the same nature, only each being more lenient, seductive, and Satanic, than the one preceding. The Indulgence was a dragnet, drawing large hauls of hungry fish, and leaving them to squirm on the shores of sinful compromises.

The Covenanters who remained faithful were greatly diminished. The ministers were decimated until few were left. Yet as the banner of the Covenant fell from the hand of one, it was snatched up by another, and defiantly given to the breeze. At no moment did the battle cease for lack of heroes.

The Indulgence did what sword, pillage, prison, torture, exile, gibbet--all could not do; it shattered the Covenanted forces and wasted their power. The fiercest fires of persecution only fused the elements, and consolidated the mass of metal. But the fruit of Indulgence was debate, dissension, distraction, division, and decimation. The tree is known by its fruit; the fruit was bad, very bad. The non-Indulged charged their brethren with betrayal of Christ and His cause. The Indulged retorted, that the king's offer opened the way back to the churches, and refusal to accept protracted the evil times. Thus the host of God was divided against itself; Judah against Israel, and Israel against Judah. Archbishop Sharp had boasted, that by the Indulgence he would throw a "bone of contention" among the Presbyterians. He judged rightly.

The cause of Christ still demands self-sacrifice. Fidelity to Jesus Christ is hard on the flesh; it always has been and always will be. The friendship of this world is enmity against God, and against all who sincerely love God. To make terms with the world is to forfeit God's love. The Church has lost much of the heroic heart, the militant power, the iron nerve, and the fire of the Holy Spirit, by reason of ease, indulgence, compromise, and inordinate desire for the friendship of the world. "If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him; if we deny Him, He also will deny us."

* * * * *

POINTS FOR THE CLASS.

1. Why were the Covenanters styled rebels?

2. How did the king try to suppress them?

3. On what points did they refuse to obey the king?

4. Were they justifiable? On what grounds?

5. How did the persecuted people increase?

6. What new attempt to divide and destroy them?

7. How many Indulgences were offered?

8. On what terms were ministers permitted to return home?

9. What effect had the Indulgences on the Covenanters?

10. What present danger along the line of Indulgence?

XXXII.

THE FIELD MEETINGS UNDER FIRE.--A.D. 1679.

The king's Indulgence did double work on the persecuted ministers. The Indulgence was a surgical knife that removed the spinal nerve of the Indulged; and it was a sharp sword launched at the heart of those who refused the Indulgence. The proclamation that offered pardon announced desperate measures against all who declined the offer. The persecution thereby grew fiercer and the sufferings more insufferable.

The Indulgence thinned the Covenanted ranks; many ministers withdrew from the Old Blue Banner with its golden motto: "FOR CHRIST'S CROWN AND COVENANT." Home! sweet, sweet home had charmed the heart. The Indulged were no more worthy of being called Covenanters. They had lost zeal, courage, place, and name among the worthies. Some however repented and returned to the solitudes. Their home, as they had crossed the threshold, was to them no more like home, but a gloomy prison, a dreary waste, an intolerable place, because the heart condemned them, and God was greater than the heart. These went back to their brethren, to endure hardness as good soldiers for Christ's sake. Persecution with all its hardships, in comparison with the Indulgence, was a paradise while the love of Jesus Christ enamored the soul.

The ministers who remained loyal to the Lord and the Covenant were pursued by men who drove like Jehu. The Conventicles, however, continued. The Covenanters swarmed on the grounds where the preaching was appointed. They refused to hear the curates of the Episcopal Church, and likewise the ministers who had returned through the king's Indulgence. The latter had forfeited their confidence and respect. The people, forsaking the parish churches, traveled to the moors and mountains for their preaching. There they found their own ministers, the unconquerable ambassadors of Christ, the uncompromising messengers of God.

A price was placed upon the heads of these ministers, by the government of King Charles. They were hunted like partridges upon the mountains. Let them be brought in, dead or alive, and the prize will range in value from $500 to $2,000. The people were commanded to refuse them bread, lodging, fellowship, all kindness and support, that they might perish without a helping hand or a consoling word. To attend their preaching was accounted a crime to be punished by the judges, an act of rebellion worthy of imprisonment or death.

The ministers were not overawed, nor were the people intimidated. Field-preaching characterized the times. Conventicles were more numerous and the attendance larger than hitherto. It was estimated that, on a certain Sabbath, an aggregate of 16,000 attended three meetings held in one county. Men, women, and children traveled miles and miles to these sequestered spots among the hills and on the moors, in defiance of all threats and in face of all clangers. There they stayed through the long Sabbath hours, listening to the rich, sweet Gospel of Christ, while the ministers spoke with earnestness as from the very portals of eternity.

The Conventicles flourished in spite of every effort to suppress them. The king and his counselors became alarmed and sent the "Highland host," a vicious army of 10,000 strong, to extinguish these hated Field-meetings. The Covenanters suffered at their hands, as by a foreign invasion. The military atrocities, horrible before, were now barbarous in the extreme. "Fire, and blood, and vapors of smoke" marked the path of these brutal men as they raided the country. Yet the Conventicles were not extinguished.

To meet the conditions of increasing terror, the Covenanters came to the Field-meetings armed and ready for self-defence. Sentries were stationed on the hills that towered above the worshipers, and the discharge of a gun was the signal of danger. At the approach of soldiers, the people quietly dispersed, if escape were possible; if not, then the armed men drew out and lined up for battle. Many a time the worship of God was suddenly turned into the clash of arms.

The Lomond-hills formed good places for these meetings. On one occasion, a large concourse of people had assembled amidst these sheltering heights. Rev. John Wellwood, a young minister whom the soldiers could not catch, was feasting these hungry souls with the Word of life. Some of his sermons are still extant. They are rich in nourishment, nervous with earnestness, and flashing with fiery eloquence, he lived in the dark days, but died exclaiming, "Now, eternal light! no more night, nor darkness to me." While the people this day were feasting on his words, the signal announced the approach of the dragoons. The people quietly moved up the "brae." The soldiers rode up and delivered five volleys into the crowd. The balls whizzed among the men, women, and children, but none were hurt. A ledge of rock prevented an attack. The captain commanded them to dismiss. "We will," they replied, "when the service is over, if you promise us no harm." The promise was given, yet the treacherous troops dashed upon the hindmost and captured eighteen.

An attack was made also on a Conventicle held at Lillies-leaf moor. A large number of people had assembled. The famous John Blackader was preaching. The alarm shot was fired when the minister was in the middle of the afternoon sermon. He at once closed the service with a few words to allay fear. The people stood in their places, showing no excitement. The troopers came up at full gallop and formed in battle line in front of the Covenanters. The soldiers were astonished at the calmness of the people. A sullen pause followed; not a word, not a movement. The officer broke the silence, shouting, "In the name of the king, I charge you to dismiss." The reply was immediate: "We are here in the name of the King of heaven, to hear the Gospel, and to harm no man." Such unexpected calmness and fortitude wilted the officer. Another painful pause. What next? No one knew. The suspense was suddenly broken by a woman who stepped forth from the midst of the Covenanters. She was alone; her movements showed decision; her eyes were flashing; her face was flushed with indignation. She went straight for the officer, seized the bridle close to the horse's mouth, and wheeled him about, vociferating, "Fye on ye, man; rye on ye; the vengeance of God will overtake you for marring so good a work." The officer was dazed as by an exploding shell. The woman was his own sister. He was crest-fallen, and withdrew the dragoons, while the people went home unharmed.

The battle of Drumclog was fought on Sabbath, June 1, 1679 Claverhouse with 240 dragoons attempted to break up a Conventicle near Loudon-hill He was met by 250 Covenanters under Hamilton, and put to rout, leaving 20 dead on the field. The Covenanters had 1 killed and 5 wounded.]

One of these armed Field-meetings was held at Drumclog. It was a sweet summer Sabbath, June 1, 1679. The Covenanters had come in large numbers They covered the green sward, sitting among clumps of moss and heather. They were far from the abode of man; nothing there to break the solemn stillness of the Lord's day, except the notes of the heather-cock and the plover. Loudon-hill stood near like a mighty champion. The air breathed softly across the field, and the sky bent silently over the worshipers; the hearts of the people were lifted up in sweet Psalms that echoed over the hills, and a serene joy filled all The Holy Spirit came mightily upon the people; the Lord was among them. Thomas Douglas was the minister. He was one of the three mighties, who afterward issued the Sanquhar Declaration disowning King Charles II. as a tyrant. The sermon was half finished when a signal shot was heard. Mr. Douglas immediately closed the Bible, saying, "You have the theory; now for the practice." 250 resolute men hastily sprang to their feet, lined up, and marched off to meet Claverhouse who was coming with 240 dragoons. The Covenanters halted on an elevation to await the attack. While waiting they sang the 76th Psalm to the tune of "Martyrs." The Psalm was very appropriate; well fitted to arouse the military spirit:

"In Judah's land God is well known,
His name's in Israel great;
In Salem is His tabernacle,
In Zion is His seat."

The troops galloped forward and fired. Their fire drew a vigorous response. The Covenanters aimed with deadly precision; the fighting was desperate; hand-to-hand encounters were frequent. The troops broke and fled, leaving 20 dead on the field. The Covenanters had 1 killed and 5 mortally wounded. Hamilton, Hackston, Paton, Balfour, Cleeland, and Hall were the noble captains that won the day in the name of the Lord of hosts.

These fighting Covenanters, who could fight as well as pray, have won for their posterity the privilege of worshiping God in peace. There is nothing now to hurt or annoy in God's mountain. How punctual, diligent, and appreciative ought we to be in the service of our Lord Jesus Christ!

* * * * *

POINTS FOR THE CLASS.

1. What was the double effect of the Indulgence?

2. What new effort to suppress the Conventicles?

3. Give the character of the Highland host.

4. How did the Covenanters prepare for self-defense?

5. Describe the Conventicle at the Lomond-hills; Lillies-leaf moor; Drumclog.

6. Who were the Covenanted captains at Drumclog?

7. How should we appreciate peaceful worship?

XXXIII.

A MASSACRE.--A.D. 1679.

The victory at Drumclog was followed up by the Covenanters with vigor. Claverhouse, with his broken ranks, was hotly pursued. He fled from the field on a wounded horse; nor did he halt till he reached Glasgow, 25 miles away. The pursuers followed him half the distance. He began that Sabbath with the beat of drums, and ended it with defeat and shame.

Next morning these Covenanters had doubled their number; 500 men stood harnessed for war, determined to overtake the foe, renew the fight, and win other victories. That forenoon, with Hamilton in command, they boldly dashed into Glasgow to strike the broken forces of Claverhouse; but they were repulsed. They retired to an encampment much dispirited. As was usual with the Covenanters, they began to enquire into the moral cause of this reverse. They felt that God for some reason was displeased. The investigation revealed the fact, that Thomas Weir, who had joined them with 140 horsemen, had been a dragoon in Dalziel's ranks at Rullion Green, where the Covenanters were defeated.

A committee was appointed to wait on Weir and investigate his case. They were roughly received. He gave no satisfaction for having been on the enemy's side on the former occasion. The Covenanters were quick to reach Bible conclusions and at once classed him with Achan who in the days of Joshua brought defeat upon Israel. Weir with his detachment was summarily dismissed. A resolution was then adopted that none, who had forsaken the Covenant or were guilty of the sins of the times, be admitted into the army. This was a heroic step, a return to the solid basis, the old Covenant grounds that had been abandoned in 1650, when the "Act of Classes" was rescinded, and the doors opened to admit unfaithful men into places of public trust. Sir Robert Hamilton, at the head of half a regiment of Covenanters, thus nobly attempted to rebuild the walls of Zion and set up the gates, even in troublous times. These were men of God who knew the Lord of hosts, in whose eyes fidelity is everything and numbers are nothing. They were afraid of nothing but sin.

The martial spirit of the Covenanters rapidly spread during the week; they flocked to the standard that was again lifted up for CHRIST'S CROWN AND COVENANT.

Beneath the waving folds of the Blue Banner 5,000 men had rallied when Saturday's sun was sinking in the west. They had unbounded confidence in the cause for which they adventured their lives; a holy enthusiasm knit them together. They were ready for battle "with hand strokes," as they said to Hackston, one of their noble captains. They had accepted the responsibility of war and were determined to win or die. The Sabbath was approaching. They planned to enter into its sweet rest and offer the appointed worship; then on Monday morning, march upon the enemy and strike for freedom. But, alas, how quickly fairest prospects may be covered with darkness! The sun set that evening behind an ugly cloud.

Hamilton had held a council of war on Thursday. He had the benefit of the wisdom and advice of Donald Cargill, Thomas Douglas, John King, and John Kidd, ministers eminent among the Covenanters. That Council adopted a public Declaration, stating their reasons for taking up arms. This statement embodied:

1. Their purpose to defend the true Reformed religion;

2. Their adherence to the Solemn League and Covenant;

3. An acknowledgment of public sins and duties;

4. A denunciation of Popery, Prelacy, and Erastianism.

The Declaration was proclaimed to the army and published to the world. On these impregnable grounds the little army was consolidated; they felt themselves strong in the Lord, and able in His name to fight His battles.

On Saturday night, when quietness had fallen upon the camp, John Welch arrived with an additional force of 440 men. This should have been an inspiration, but it was the very opposite. Welch was a prominent Conventicle minister; "a diligent, fervent, successful, unwearied preacher." He was a fearless man; a price equal to $2,000 had been set upon his head by the government. Such a man should not be disparaged. Yet, he it was who introduced the confusion of tongues that resulted in the utter dissipation of the army, and the consequent defeat of the Covenanters at Bothwell Bridge.

Welch was dissatisfied with the Declaration. It was too forceful for him. He would tone it down, that it might soothe the king, placate the Duke of Monmouth, condone the Indulged ministers, and restore Weir to the ranks. He presented a new Declaration as a substitute for the one already in force. For two weeks, even till the enemy was lining up for battle, he agitated the question. The majority was always against him. At last Hamilton, the commander, contrary to his convictions, yielded for the sake of peace. He hoped by this means to save his distracted army, that with solid ranks he might meet the foe and win the fight. But he sadly mistook policy for wisdom. The battle of Bothwell Bridge was lost that moment. The battle was lost before a shot was fired. Hamilton surrendered before he met Monmouth. He had displaced the truth for the sake of harmony. His flag is already furled, there will be no fighting now except by the heroes of the van-guard. The Divine favor that gives victories has been withdrawn. The martial spirit has fled from the leader and his men are weak as women.

On Sabbath morning, June 22, 1679, the king's army, 15,000 strong, was massed on the north bank of the Clyde; on the south side, the Covenanters numbering 5,000 confronted them. The narrow bridge lay between them. Hackston, Paton, and Balfour, with 300 Covenanters stood at its south end. The rest of the army was behind them on the moor with gunshot, standing in eleven solid squares; six banners waved proudly over them. They had one cannon, two detachments of cavalry, and a body of skirmishers.

Monmouth orders his troops across the bridge. A solid column pushes forward broad as the bridge is wide; step follows step in that dread procession, when lo, a spreading puff of smoke rises on the bank in front, and a cannon ball is hurled among them, while muskets pour forth volleys of death. The bridge is strewn with bleeding men and the broken ranks fall back. The Duke orders another charge. A second column moves hurriedly over the gory path of their fallen comrades to meet the same fate. Again and again, the attack and the repulse. They attempt to ford the river, but Balfour with his sharpshooters hurls them back, while many a brave man lies down in the cool stream to rise no more. The bridge drips with blood; the Clyde is crimsoned. After three hours the Covenanters' ammunition fails, and Monmouth rushes the bridge. The Covenanters meet them with swords, but are overpowered; they fall back upon the main body and find it unfit for action.

The Battle of Bothwell Bridge was fought on Sabbath, June 22, 1679 The king's forces numbering 15,000, under the Duke of Monmouth, assailed 5,000 Covenanters under Robert Hamilton. For three hours Captain Hackston, with 300 Covenanters, held the bridge. At length their ammunition was exhausted, and the royal army forced their way across. The Covenanters took flight and were savagely slaughtered in the stampede 400 were slain, 1,200 captured, and the rest scattered. A granite monument has been erected at the bridge in honor of the Covenanters.]

The royal army was soon across. They line up for the general engagement, but hesitate to give battle; they have tested the courage of the Covenanters, and have a dread of results. Hamilton is awaiting his opportunity. His intention is to rush the enemy into the river. He orders a forward movement, but the order fails. Wherefore does his army hesitate? Ah, many of the officers have disappeared. Terror is creeping over the masses like a death chill. Welch and his friends have left; Weir with his 140 horsemen takes fright and flees; Hamilton loses his head and his cavalry stampedes; the army is thrown into confusion; all is lost. In the fight only 15 were killed; in the flight 400 were slaughtered.

Monmouth, seeing the panic, ordered a pursuit which resulted in a running butchery, a horrid massacre. A body of 1,200 surrendered; these were compelled to lie flat on the ground all night. If in their wounds or achings they moved head or hand, an admonition was delivered from a musket. A change of posture, then a sharp crack, a whizzing bullet, a bleeding victim, a death struggle, a pallid corpse.

That was a sad Sabbath for the Covenanters. Defeat, dishonor, and distress turned the day into a painful memory. The calamity, doubtless, arose out of the compromise of Covenanted principles. Welch's wisdom proved to be foolishness; Weir's strength, weakness; Hamilton's compliance, defeat.

The sacrifice of truth can never be productive of good. Loss, sorrow, defeat, and death are in the train of any policy that buries principle.

POINTS FOR THE CLASS.

1. How did the Covenanters follow up their victory at Drumclog?

2 What reverse did they suffer?

3 How did they account for it?

4. What was the growth of their army?

6. Who introduced confusion into their ranks?

7. What was the subject of debate?

8. How did it terminate?

9. Describe the forces at the battle of Bothwell Bridge.

10. Describe the battle and its issue.

11. What lesson may we learn from this defeat?

XXXIV.

THE COVENANTERS' PRISONS.--A.D. 1680.

"They who profess Christ in this generation must suffer much or sin much," exclaimed one of the Scottish martyrs. The enemy was in power and every means was employed to compel the Covenanters to abandon their Covenant with God, break relation with Jesus Christ, and thus destroy their testimony. To accomplish this, the king and his courtiers subjected these inoffensive people to cruelties most shocking. While they remained steadfast in their Covenant, the violence increased; when any of them relaxed, one step of defection necessitated another, till they stood in the enemy's camp. The same process is ever true.

The massacre at Bothwell Bridge brought upon the Covenanters extreme distress. Their sufferings hitherto had been as a continual dropping on a very rainy day, with fitful gusts striking here and there; now a hurricane sweeps the country, bringing ruin and desolation in its broad path. Every available force was put in operation for the utter annihilation of the Covenanters. Their ardor for Christ and His royal rights must be quenched in their blood, and their testimony to the truth must be silenced. The king, the courts, the army, the bishops--all were combined for the overthrow of the Presbyterian system of faith and the Covenant of God. Upon the ruins of the temple of liberty, erected by the Reformers, King Charles had determined to build his castle of absolute despotism. He knew that the glory of Christ's supremacy would never fade out of the skies of Scotland, while Covenanters preached, prayed, and sang Psalms; nor would his despotism flourish while there were Covenanters to challenge his impious claim of authority over the Church, and iniquitous attempt to rule man's conscience. Hence the desperate attempt to overawe and suppress them.

After the battle of Bothwell Bridge, the first stroke of excessive cruelty fell upon the 1,200 prisoners who had surrendered on the field. They lay all night upon the cold ground huddled together like sheep, surrounded by a strong guard. It was a night of horror. The sentinels watched every motion, and shot at any hand or head that dared to stir. In the morning they were marched from their mossy bivouac, leaving the green field dotted with crimson pools, and strewn with the dead who had received fatal shots; there they lay in garments rolled in blood.

The prisoners were tied together, two and two, and driven to Edinburgh, as cattle to the slaughter. The journey was dreary, during which they suffered from hunger, weariness, cruel mockings, and barbarous treatment. In the Greyfriars' churchyard, there yet remains the small enclosure, into which these prisoners were driven like so many dumb animals. Here they were kept to await their sentence. Twelve hundred men, with scarcely comfortable standing room, without decent clothing, without sanitary accommodations, without proper food, without shelter, detained for months within these stone walls under a merciless guard--who can conceive of their sufferings? They had been stripped, all but naked; the hard ground was their bed; the sky was their roof; they were exposed to the heat of day, and the chill of night; the rains of July drenched them; the snows of November blanketed them.

During these wearisome months the number of prisoners constantly grew less, and mostly by melancholy means. Some of them subscribed a bond confessing themselves to be rebels and promising unconditional obedience to the king. The hardships of their condition, the threats against their lives, and the entreaties of relatives overpowered conscience. They were released only to be reproached, distressed, tormented, and pillaged at home, by the soldiers who overran the country. Their unholy bond sacrificed their peace with God, and brought no protection from man. Such is the effect of every compromise of God's people with the world.

Disease also reduced the number. Sickness arising from exposure, neglect, and ill fare, wrought havoc with their lives. The living watched carefully over their dying companions, as they lay on the cold hard ground, destitute of every earthly cordial and comfort. But the Balm of Gilead they had in plenty; the consolations of God were abundant; the promises distilled sweetness upon their lips; prayers filled the place with incense; the Psalms were as the music of heaven in their ears; the gates of glory opened wide for the dying; pain, sorrow, and darkness vanished from the soul, as it went forth from the earthly tabernacle to enter into the Eternal City.

Quite a few were condemned to death and executed on the scaffold. Prominent among these, were John Kid and John King, two ministers of Christ. They received their sentence with serenity and went hand in hand, to the place of execution. Their conversation was cheerful. Their outlook was far beyond the scaffold, and the city towers, and the high hills outlined on the sky, and even beyond the glowing sun that was then smiling in the west. What magnificent scenery their eyes must have rested upon, as they now had come to Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the innumerable company of angels, the spirits of just men made perfect! Already in triumphant faith they were walking the golden streets, with palms in their hands crowns on their heads, and songs in their hearts. Kid was a witty man, usually overflowing with innocent mirth; even in sight of the gallows his humor was insuppressible. Looking into King's face he made a pun on their own names, saying, "I have often heard and read of a kid sacrificed, but I seldom or never heard of a king made a sacrifice."

Four hundred of these Covenanters remained unmoved by threats, promises, sufferings, or protracted hardships. The painful weeks and months might wear them out, but they continued firm in the faith and testimony, resolved to honor their Lord and His Covenant while they had breath. They remembered the promise, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." They were of the unbending type.

The king's council, hopeless in attempting to bring them to terms, resolved to finish the irksome task by shipping all to distant lands. They placed 243 on a small sail-ship, which was tossed on the Atlantic ocean until engulfed amidst the waves. The remainder were never transported.

Many Covenanters were confined in places even more intolerable than this. Dunnottar Castle became one of these notable spots. The castle stands on a rock that projects into the sea. Here still exists a deep dark room, called the "Whigs' Vault," where 167 Covenanters were crowded together. Forty-five of these were women. The room is 56 feet long, 16 wide, and 12 high, having two small windows. This outrageous disregard for sex, decency, health, and every natural right, aroused even the indignation of the governor's wife, at whose request the women, after some days, were removed to another vault. The prisoners suffered the horrors of these dark foul pits three months. But the Lord Jesus Christ did not forsake them; they were sustained by His abundant grace. He heard their mournful cries and upheld their faith. Some breathed out their lives on the hard stone floor, with no pillow on which to rest their aching heads. Blessed termination of the horrid cruelty! Even there the "pearl gate" opened wide, and the ransomed soul arose in power, and walked forth into the marvelous light of the world above. They who survived death were offered liberty on condition of taking the king's oath, and acknowledging his supremacy over Church and conscience. They persistently refused to do this. How great the loyalty of these men and women to the Lord Jesus Christ! Imprisonment with all its bitterness was sweeter to them than liberty with a defiled conscience.

The castle rock projects into the sea, on the east coast of Scotland, and rises with rugged sides out of the water to the height of 160 feet. It is connected with the mainland by a narrow neck. Here is the "Whigs' Vault," a dismal underground room, hewn out of the rock, where many Covenanters suffered imprisonment.]

The Bass Rock, too, was a penitentiary for the Covenanters. This is a lofty green rock arising boldly out of the sea near Edinburgh, having steep rugged sides, being accessible only at one point. Thither they brought, in the latter years of the persecution, the overflow of prisoners after the inland jails had been crowded. The rock is very desolate. This was the Covenanters' Patmos. Here Alexander Peden, John Blackader, and many others spent months and years, walking round and round over the storm-battered cliffs, or sitting on the ledges looking landward thinking of the desolated home, the broken family, the wasted Church, and the guilty land. When the waves dashed against the rock, and the breakers leaped high; when storms darkened the land, and billows whitened the sea; when nothing was heard but the noise of the waters, the roar of the tempest, and the scream of the sea-fowl, even then was the Holy Spirit there to illuminate these prisoners of hope. They held communion with God; visions of glory lighted up their dreary home; they moved amidst the scenery of heaven; the Bass rock was peopled with angels. Blackader has left on record some rich experiences he there enjoyed.

We are free to worship God according to conscience and the Word. But let us not forget that our liberty is the blossom, and our privileges the fruit, of the rough black root of persecution suffered by our forefathers. Had they not been faithful, we would have had to fight the battles they fought, and suffer as they suffered, or have perished in darkness. Will not we, for the sake of coming generations, be likewise faithful? The Lord Jesus grant us strength and success.

* * * * *

POINTS FOR THE CLASS.

1. What was done with, the prisoners taken at Bothwell Bridge?

2. How did they suffer in Edinburgh?

3. Describe their prison, and their hardships.

4. What two of their ministers were executed?

5. Describe Dunnottar Castle.

7. Describe the Bass Rock.

8. For what was it used in those times?

9. How may we meet the obligations descending from the fathers?

XXXV.

DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.--A.D. 1680.

The persecution of the Covenanters under King Charles II. had now continued twenty years. These were years of slaughter, and the horrors were still deepening.

The battle of Bothwell Bridge was followed by a climax of suffering and sacrifice. The wrath of the king, vented through the dragoons, fell upon every district where the Covenanters were located and followed them into their hiding-places. They were required to take the oath of loyalty, or suffer the direful consequence. Some were haled to the judges to be sentenced, others were shot like game where they were found. Like a fire that breaks out in a city and mercilessly devours while the flames find fuel, so this fire seemed destined to spread and devour till the last drop of Covenanted blood would sizzle on the coals.

The persecutors were in degree successful. Four hundred ministers, in 1662, had refused to receive orders from the king for the exercise of their ministry; they gave up home and all its comforts, rather than admit the king's claim of supremacy over the Church of Christ. These were now reduced to less than one hundred. Some were martyred, some were banished, some had died of old age and some of exposure; but many, if not most, had been constrained to accept the Indulgence and were gone back home. Their first love had been chilled by the wintry blasts. Their zeal for the Lord Jesus and His testimony abated as the hardships increased. Worn with suffering, emaciated with hunger, exposed to danger, grey with sorrows, and the darkness deepening with no relief in prospect, they weakened and accepted the terms of a false peace. But let them not be judged with harshness. Our Lord has said of such, "The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak." The struggle lasted eight more years, during which time there were sixty ministers standing by their Covenant instead of four hundred, and even these sixty, almost to a man, counted it expedient to suspend their testimony and keep silence.

The real Covenanters however were not conquered. Death had slain thousands, and defection tens of thousands, yet the faithful had not lost heart. There was still a vigorous force of loyal men and women, earnest quiet people, who stood fearlessly by the Covenant and Testimony of Jesus Christ. They were called, "The remnant." With these the Holy Spirit was pleased to clothe Himself, for the good fight of faith which they continued with unabated ardor. They stepped into the firing line where the shock of war was heaviest, and became the aggressive party, demanding from the king their Covenanted rights. The Lord was ever with them; they heard Him saying, "Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." Their zeal and energy were but the crested waves of Omnipotence, the Lord's own strength surging along the strand of time, and dashing against the rocks of wickedness and misrule--waves of Divine energy that must yet overflow every land, overcome the whole world, and cover the earth with glory, as the waters cover the sea.

Claverhouse was a captain of dragoons, who pursued the Covenanters and slaughtered them with savage atrocity. He outlived the persecution, but was killed the next year, 1689, at the battle of Killiecrankie, fighting against the accession of the Prince of Orange. "A shot in the left eye" sent the reeking soul into the presence of God, whom he, in aweful blasphemy, had promised to take into his own hands. He died at the age of forty-six.]

These strong-spirited, unbending Covenanters believed that the time had now come for a forward movement, and they accepted the task as from the Lord. They were not merely unconquerable; they were determined to conquer. At the beginning of the persecution they were passive, meekly submitting to reproach, spoilation, imprisonment, and death, for Christ's sake. This continued till patience was exhausted.

Their second attitude was that of self-defence. Oppression maketh a wise man mad. The people came armed to the Conventicles, and with swords and muskets met the troops that attacked the meetings. These acts of self-defence developed into two distinct efforts to raise an army for the redress of grievances. All this time the Covenanters recognized Charles II. as their king.

The third attitude was that of revolution. They now had reached this point. They challenge the king's right to reign. They resolve to take the crown from his head, and place it upon the brow of a man worthy of the honor, one who "feared God, and hated covetousness." What a daring task! what courage exhibited by these men! what unbounded confidence in the righteousness of their cause as they against all odds, all earthly advantages, and all human wisdom, proclaim the king's forfeiture of the throne, and face the consequences of that proclamation!

This was a forlorn battle. The distant outlook was hopeful and the final success was assured; but the present struggle must be sanguinary and the sacrifice of life dreadful. Every man that enlists in the army at this stage must expect to die on the field. This bold position of the Covenanters will surely be met by all the powers of darkness that can be massed against them. They now unfurl the Banner for Christ's Crown and Covenant on the very highest grounds; the persecution will therefore be waged, if possible, with tenfold greater fierceness. The king with all his engines of destruction will fight them most desperately; Satan with all his hosts will assail them ferociously. How can the noble band escape annihilation?

But who will lead the Covenanters in such a struggle? Who will command these "little flocks of kids," when the hosts of Syria fill all the country round about? Where are the ministers now, when the trumpet blast proclaims a revolutionary war against the king? While the dread notes echo from mountain to mountain, the most of them are in caves, hidden--like Obadiah's prophets. Three, only three, step forward. These lions of the Covenant are Cameron, Cargill, and Douglass. They grasp the old battle-banner, and carrying it to the new position call upon the Covenanted sons of freedom to rally under its floating folds. The "remnant" gave a noble response.

This self-sacrificing band was merely the advance guard of a great army that was now mustering in the providence of God for the restoration of civil and religious liberty. Little did they expect to win under existing conditions, but they could hold the hordes of darkness back, till the Lord Jesus would bring up His mighty forces for the decisive battle. They could throw themselves upon the enemy, and with the impact stay their progress. They laid down principles and began action that eight years later resulted in the Revolution under the Prince of Orange. Cameron, Cargill, and Douglass began the Revolution, and William, Prince of Orange, finished it.

The Covenanters engaged in this forward movement were henceforth called Cameronians. Richard Cameron was the leader. On the first anniversary of the battle of Bothwell Bridge, June 22, 1680, he with 21 mounted men rode into the quiet town of Sanquhar. They came in a martial spirit; each horse carried a Christian swordsman; they were armed for war. Reaching the heart of the town, they dismounted and reverently offered prayer. They then read aloud a Declaration of War against King Charles. This they nailed to the post at the crossroads. What a heroic celebration of the first anniversary of their greatest defeat! The paper carried this declaration:

"We do disown Charles Stuart as having any right, title to, or interest in, the crown of Scotland for government.

"We, being under the Standard of our Lord Jesus Christ, do declare a war with such a tyrant and usurper, and all the men of his practices as enemies to our Lord Jesus Christ and His cause and Covenants."

The men then quietly rode away, while the people read the Declaration with mingled joy and terror. The lions roared on the hills of Sanquhar, and the king's throne trembled; within a few years the monarch and his dynasty had disappeared from the earth.

These Covenanters prepared also another declaration which was called the Queensferry Paper. It contained the following statement of the principles, for which they contended:

"The avowal of the Scriptures as the only rule of faith and action;

"The promotion of the Kingdom of God by every possible and lawful method;

"Adherence to the Covenanted Reformation of the Presbyterian Church;

"The disowning of all authority which opposes the Word of God!"

With deathless bravery, they added the following: