-77ii"i tl'!'  /?
They proceeded to the dwelling house, where they entertained thensselves with a plentiful meal at the expense of him whose
person they had so iniquitously imprisoned.           p. 392.




TRADITIONS
OF THE
C OVE NA NT ER S
OR
GLEANINGS AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.
SECOND SERIES.
BY THE
REV. ROB3ERT SIMPSON,
SANQUHAR.
"They wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens
and caves of the earth."
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.








CONTE N TS.
Pa
CHAPTER I.
James Gavin of Douglas-Capture in the Ravine,             5
CHAPTER II.
John Frazer of Carsfairn-Remarkable deliverances,         19
CHAPTER III.
Alexander Williamson-Gathering at Carsfairn-Incident, 36
CHAPTER IV.
Reeves, of Cruffell-Kers, of Scar-Hiding-places,      o  52
CHAPTER V.
Campbell, of Lochbruin-William Good,            o.  69
CHAPTER VI.
Alexander Gray, of Cambusnethan Mains-James Gray,   84
CHAPTER VII.
Curate of Kirkbride-Two pious families..      98
CHAPTER VIII.
James Harkness-Scene at Biggar-Curate of Moffat-,-Troopers at Locherben-Howatson... 111
CHAPTER IX.
William Smith-House conventicle-Welsh, of ScarFell of Balmaclellan-Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick..        123
CHAPTER X.
Fergussons, of Threerigs - Craigdarroch -  Wilson, of
Croglin-John Gillespie,.... 140
iii




iv                    CONTENTS.
age
CHAPTER XI.
South Mains-The Spy-The Galloway Flail,. 157
CHAPTER XII.
James Nivison, of Closeburn Mill-Wonderful Escapes,   169
CHAPTER XIII.
Story of Patrick Laing-Exploits,.. 179
CHAPTER XIV.
Friarminion-James Glendinning-Cargill, at Covington
Mill,...                            190
CHAPTER XV.
William Cochrane-Wanderings,..204
CHAPTER XVI.
Lady Greenhill-the Confession-the Charter-chestthe Door-the Plaid,..                     216
CHAPTER XVII.
James Gourlay, of Cambusnethan-John Mathison, of
Closeburn,..... 230
CHAPTER XVIII.
Mr. Renwick - Incident at Newton Stewart - Escape
fiom the Conventicle-Cottage in the Ravine,. 241
CHAPTER XIX.
Hamilton, of Drumclog-George Henry-John HenryJames Lamie-Graham, of Galston,..        254
CHAPTER XX.
Muirhead of Monkton-Cottars of Carmacoup, v. 265
GLOSSARY,..  a.                             277




TRADITIONS
OF THE
COVEN ANTE RS.
CHAPTER I.
James Gavin of Douglas-Capture in the Ravine.
THE romantic locality of Douglasdale, in the
upper ward of Lanarkshire, teems with many a
tale of thrilling interest. The Water of Douglas,
a dark blue stream, as its name indicates, wends
its course through the delightful valley to which
it gives the appellation, and falls into the majestic
Clyde.  The strath through which the river flows
was, in times long gone by, the scene of many a
bloody conflict; and there many a leal-hearted
patriot bravely lost his life in the earlier struggles
for Scotland's independence, against the encroachments of her southern neighbours.  Few places
in the south-west of Scotland, perhaps, retain
more of the traditions of the " olden times" than
this district. The hills, and woods, and glens,
and mosses, and ancient feudal towers, have all
legends of their own relative to times either more
recent or more remote.  Such recitals, it is true,
are not confined to Douglasdale only; they are
1*                5




6                TRADITIONS OF
sown either more  profusely or more sparingly
over the breadth and length of Caledonia.
" 0 wild, traditioned Scotland,
Thy briery burns and braes
Are full of pleasant memories,
And tales of other days
Thy story-haunted waters,
In music gush along:
Thy mountain glens are tragedies,
Thy heathy hills are song.
*     *      *     *
Land of the Bruce and Wallace,
Where patriot hearts have stood,
And for their country and their faith
Like water poured their blood;
Where wives and little children
Were steadfast to the death,
And graves of martyr warriors
Are in the desert heath."
The ancient village of Douglas stands in the
vicinity of the princely mansion of the lord of the
manor, which, from the green lawn on which it is
situated, rears its towers among the sturdy trees
which, centuries ago, witnessed many a deed of
high and chivalrous daring on the part of the
warlike ancestors of the famous house of Douglas.
The village must in feudal times have taken its
rise from the castle, and must have been the spot
on which the retainers of the bold chieftain constructed their huts.  The church  of St. Bride,
partly in ruins, stands on a rising ground in the
centre of the more ancient part of the village, in
the midst of the field of graves, and is a pile of
very great antiquity.
Few names have sounded longer and louder in
the ears of Scotsmen than that of Douglas. It
was a name which  not unfrequently made the
throne of the Scottish monarchs totter beneath




THE COVENANTERS.                7
them.  Theobold the Fleming founded, after the
Saxon times, the family of Douglas. To this individual Arnald, abbot of Kelso, granted, in the
year 1147 and afterwards, the lands of Douglasdale in Lanarkshire. His first-born son, according to the practice of the times, when landowLers
took the name of their lands, assumed the title of
Douglas; and hence has sprung that illustrious
line whose name, through the descent of successive generations, has gathered so much martial renown.
In the times of the Episcopal persecution in
Scotland, the parish of Douglas, like that of Sanquhar, suffered less than might have been expected.  The leniency of those in power prevented, in both places, the mischief which might
otherwise have ensued.  The hand of Providence
in this circumstance appears very obvious; for
the wild localities in Douglasdale, and in the
upper parts of Nithsdale, became by this means
an asylum to the wanderers, who found there, at
certain seasons at least, less molestation.
One circumstance, which would seem  to ace
count for the quietude of Douglas at this period,
was, that the Rev. Peter Reid, minister of the
parish, accepted the indulgence; at least his name
is mentioned in the list of the indulged, who were
cited to appear before the council in 1677, the
year of the death of the venerable John Semple,
the indulged minister of Carsfairn, during whose
incumbency that parish also was kept in a state
of similar repose.  It was in the parishes of the
curates chiefly that the greatest distress prevailed.
These hirelings acted the part of government spies
and informers, and were the cause of indescriba.
ble affliction over the whole country.




8              TRADITIONS OF
Another circumstance which tended to shield
the inhabitants of Douglasdale in those oppressive
days, was the tolerance of the house of Douglas.
That family, it is said, never manifested a persecuting spirit. The Marquis of Douglas, though
occasionally instigated by the council to support
them in their measures, permitted every man on
his lands to worship God according to his conscience; and, instead of annoying the covenanters, he petitioned for the pardon of some, and obtained a mitigation of the punishment of others.
The conduct of this nobleman must have had great
weight with the smaller proprietors of his neighbourhood, who received no encouragement from
his example to display any thing like the keen.
ness of a persecuting temper.  The intolerance
of an unprincipled baron, and the ferocity of an
ignorant and bigoted squire, wrought more havoc
in the bosom of the peaceful families of the land
than tongue can tell.
It is probable that the curate, who succeeded
Peter Reid in Douglas, was a man of a gentle disposition, or that at least his disposition was modified by the presiding influence of the Marquis.
The curates were often greatly irritated at the
disrespect shown them by their parishioners, and
the scanty attendance on their ministry; and they
sometimes broke out with great vehemence against
the people. The curate of Lesmahagow, when he
was one day preaching to a very thin audience,
exclaimed, " Black be my fa,' but they are a' aff
to the hill folk thegither. Sorrow gin I dinna tell,
and they'll a' be shot or hangit be yule." In
those days the curate of a parish was either silent
or lodged information according to circumstances,
for his conduct as a time-server was generally re.




THE COVENANTERS.               9
gulated by the will or example of the more powerful in his locality.
Notwithstanding the general quietude of the
parish of Douglas during the stirring times of
persecution, there were certain individuals even
here, the prominence of whose religious character
was such as to preclude the possibility of their
being allowed to remain unnoticed.  John Haddoway, merchant in Douglas, and James White,
a writer in the same place, together with two bro
thers of the name of Cleland, James and William,
were, especially after the battle of Bothwell
Bridge, taken notice of by the council.  Two
years prior to this, however, we find the same
persons regarded with a suspicious eye by the
vigilant oppressors of the time, and actually summoned before them. Wodrow, the historian, takes
notice of this circumstance  in  the  following
words: " By a letter to the Marquis of Douglas,
they (the council) acquaint him, that John Haddoway, his chamberlain, and James and William
Cleland, sons of Thomas Cleland, his. garner
keeper, having been before the council, February
1677, for being at conventicles and other disorders; and some witnesses were examined, and
the process delayed, and his Lordship's bond
taken to produce them  when called, they being
now to go on in that process, desire him to exhibit them on the 27th instant, according to his
bond."  It appears that these persons were acquitted at this time, probably through the influence of the Marquis. It is obvious, however,
that matters in the parish of Douglas began to assume an aspect not at all pleasurable to the eccle.
siastical superiors of the period; for the council
acquainted the Marquis on the same occasion,




10              TRADITIONS OF
", that being informed of the vacancy of the kirk
of Douglas, and that the people of that parish live
disorderly, they desire that he may plant that kirk
with some regular or orthodox minister, and take
advice of his Grace the Archbishop of Glasgow,
to whom they have recommended the planting of
it, if he (the Marquis) does it not readily." The
disorderly living of the people of Douglas, here
referred to in a letter from the council, is easily
understood; it refers to their nonconformity, and
their frequenting of conventicles.
There resided in Douglas at this time, also, an
eminent Christian of the name of James Wilson,
with whom the venerable Peden used to associate,
and who sometimes accompanied him in his wanderings. Janet Cleland, too, a mother in Israel,
and probably a relation of the two Clelands already mentioned, lived here, and was the indivi.
dual who dared to express her sympathy with
Hackston of Rathillet when he was conveyed by
the troopers a prisoner through Douglas, after the
slkirmish at Airds moss.  " At Douglas," says he,
Janet Cleland was kind to me, and brought a
surgeon to me, who did but little to my wounds,
only he staunched the blood." We are not therefore to conclude that there were few or no worthies
to be found in certain localities, simply because
little mention is made of them; circumstances prevented their being dragged into notice, when otherwise they would have appeared a great host.
Among the few of the natives of the sweetly
secluded vale of Douglas that suffered in these
trying times, was James Gavin.  His name and
certain circumstances connected with his history,
have been retained by tradition; and it would be
a matter of regret if the memorial of so worthy a




THE COVENANTERS.             1]
man were to perish.  When the moors and the
glens of Scotland were the hiding-places of the
scattered remnant, this lowly man, in order to
maintain a good conscience, and communion with
his God, betook himself to the lonely caves and
dark mantling bushes of the forest. Tradition
had nearly left him out of mind, had not his greatgreat-grand-daughter, Helen Gavin in Douglas,
who fondly cherishes the name of her godly ancestor, produced from the stores of her memory
the only lingering and veritable notices of one who
reflects a credit on his descendants.
James Gavin was a native of the village of
Douglas, but the year of his birth is unknown.
What were the character and condition of his parents we cannot tell, but he himself was a Godfearing man, and a consistent follower of the Saviour in whom  he believed.  The period of his
life at which he connected himself with the cause
of the covenants is not stated, but certain it is,
when he did embark in the cause, he adhered to
it with unflinching constancy till the end. Owing
to his good sense and great piety, he acquired
much influence in the village, and was at length
regarded as a leading man among the brethren.
He was a tailor by trade, but his humble and
honest occupation detracted nothing from  his
weight of character as an influential person.
True worth is not embodied in wealth and worldly
distinction, but in genuine godliness. At what
particular period of his nonconformist profession
he was first marked out by his foes, we are not informed, nor how much he suffered prior to his capture by the cruel Claverhouse. It was reported
that this active and merciless agent of the domi.
nant faction was at the head of a company of his




12              TRADITIONS OF
troopers ravaging the parts adjacent to Douglas.
dale, and shooting without remorse the helpless
wanderers with whom  he met, on the hills and
deserts.  The news of the approach of this re.
doubted persecutor put James Gavin upon his
guard.  He was aware that his name and principles were not unknown to the enemy, and that
they were watching the earliest opportunity to
apprehend him.  In pursuing his vocation then,
he made as little noise as possible, waiting till the
threatened tempest should blow over.  In those
days it was much more customary than now, for
persons exercising the handicraft of our worthy,
to go from place to place pursuing their employment, in the different country houses where their
services were required, and where they generally
remained till their work was finished.
James Gavin knowing that the dragoons were
in the neighbourhood, and that they would make
strict search wherever they came for suspected.
persons, deemed it prudent not to lodge in the
houses where he plied his sedentary employment,
but sought a retreat elsewhere. He frequently
took refuge in any barn, or other out-houses, to
which he had access, and as frequently had recourse to the thickets in the glen, and to the cavities of the rocks, to hide himself from the eye of
his oppressors. This was his practice when, in
times of imminent peril, he happened to be located
in the more rural parts, to which the approach of
the enemy might be expected. It is easy to imagine the anxiety and discomfort of a situation
such as this; in suspense by day, and in hazard
by night, the lives of such persons hung in doubt
before their eyes.
When Gavin wrought in the village, either in




THE COVENANTERS.              13
his own house, or in the houses of his neighbours,
he generally withdrew in the dusk of the evening
to the sheltered banks of Earnsallach burn, and
hid himself till the morning. In this retreat he
had peace; and though he was exposed to the
damps and colds of the dreary night, his heart
was comforted with the thought, and with the experience that he was near God, and that he was
suffering not as an evil doer, but as a follower of
the Redeemer.
Earnsallach is a small mountain stream which
issues from the bleak moorlands behind, and falls
into the Douglas water about three quarters of a
mile above the village.  This strearnlet, at one
part of its course, forms a beautiful cascade, which
easily attracts the notice of the traveller as he
wends his way through the waste.  And many
are the sweet linns that are to be met with among
the unnoticed rills that pursue their fairy course
in the deep dells among the hills, and on which
no eye gazes but that of the watchful shepherd,
as he follows the wandering of his fleecy charge
on the mountains. There are spots of beauty and
of wild grandeur in the mountainous and heathy
tracts of Scotland, of which those who live in the
more cultivated districts have no conception.
When the rivulet leaves the cascade over which
it shoots its foaming and rapid waters, it pursues
its way through a deep and narrow  ravine, the
sides of which are rendered sufficiently rugged
with shattered and procumbent rocks.  The trees
that grow on either margin, though neither majestic nor picturesque, interweave their pendent
branches with the shrubs that spring from the
fissures of the rocks beneath, and cast a deep
gloom over the torrent as it struggles along its'2




14              TRADITIONS OF
rough and noisy channel, and in the lonely sides
of which James Gavin spent many a watchful
night.
In ancient times, the principal road which led
from Douglas to Sanquhar crossed Earnsallach
burn, about three hundred yards below the linn,
and passed along a desolate moor, called the
black gait,-a name which it received from  the
dark and deep moss which it traverses.  This
place is not without its interest, nor its tales of
bygone times. The hair-breadth escapes of covenanters and troopers in this dangerous morass are
not spoken of, but there is in its vicinity an old
grey cairn denominated "Bryce's cross."  Tradition affirms that this stony pile commemorates
the murder of a travelling chapman, who lost his
life ages ago, by the wicked hands of those who
wished to possess his property. The people of a
forgotten age reared this monument, not in approbation, but in detestation of the nefarious deed
which was perpetrated on the moor. The view
from this spot is extensive, and takes in a wide
field of covenanting interest. The district on all
sides was traversed by the feet of the worthies
of the covenant, seeking hiding.places in the
wilds, or gathering to the conventicles in the
solitudes. But though the eye roams over a scene
which in itself is cheerless and uninviting, there
is nevertheless a moral interest in the landscape,
when we attach to it the history of those who
wandered and suffered and prayed in its deserts.
Near this place are the green heights of Auchensauch, the field of willows, which in later times
witnessed the renewal of those covenants, for the
maintenance of which our forefathers endured so
much.  The view from this elevation, on a fine




TIHE COVENANTERS.             15
summer day, when the sky is bright, is uncommonly fine, and of great extent.
The road by the " black gait" was the thoroughfare along which the dragoons used to pass in
their raids between Douglas and Sanquhar.  It
happened, very early on a summer morning, and
long before the inhabitants of the moorlands were
awakened from their sleep, that a company of
troopers passed this way on their march from the
south to the Nether Fauldhouse, now the property
of Mr. James Thomson in Douglas.  The Nether
Fauldhouse is in the parish of Lesmahagow, and
was, in the times of persecution, a kind of station
or temporary garrison for the soldiers.  From
this place they issued forth in all directions to
commit those deeds of rapine and cruelty in
which they rioted. So notorious was the wickedness and profligacy of the troopers while they lay
at this place, that it received the appellation of
Hell's byke, and by this name it is still known in
the surrounding district.  This circumstance is
of itself sufficient to decide the character of those
who were employed as the hireling agents of
those unprincipled men who wielded the sword of
persecution, and bathed it remorselessly in the
best blood of the land.  If this single station was
a sort of pandemonium, packed like a hive of
hornets, and prepared to perpetrate all manner of
mischief, what must the larger garrisons have
been, where great numbers of men were convened
and permitted to act without moral restraint.
These garrisons, besides being sources of annoyance to the helpless peasantry, must have been
schools of crime, in which their inmates were
trained in all kinds of wickedness.
The cave in which James Gavin was lying in




16             TRADITIONS OF
concealment on the morning on which the troop
ers passed along the c6 black gait," in their descent
on Douglas, was near the place at which they
crossed Earnsallact  burn.  The noise of the cavalcade, it would appear, had attracted the notice
of the little dog which Gavin kept as his companion in his lonely hiding-place. This kindly animal, his faithful attendant, and his nightly guardian at the mouth of his cave, was now to become
the innocent cause of his detection, and the means
of a long train of afflictions to his master. The
dog, on hearing the sounds which escaped the
ears of Gavin fast asleep in the hole of the rock,
ran in the direction whence they proceeded, and,
observing the soldiers advancing, barked loudly and
fiercely.  The troopers halted, and fixed their
eyes on the little brisk assailant, to consider the
matter for a moment.  " There is game in that
glen," said the officer in advance, " that same dog
has a wig not far from his tail." The cautious
and wily trooper, long exercised no doubt in his
vocation, had learned to read symptoms, and to
draw forth a meaning which would have escap d
the sagacity of other men; and he concluded
from  the circumstances, that some wanderers
were concealed in the ravine, and that the dog
had sprung from their side the moment the trampling of the horses' feet caught his ear in the distance.
On this assumption, he commanded several of
the men to dismount, and to descend into the gully, while the rest of the troopers were stationed
here and there at the different points from which
the persons in concealment might be expected to
issue. The men on foot followed the dog as he
retired into the thicket, and occasionally turning




THE COVENANTERS.              17
round and barking at his pursuers.  When they
lost sight of him, they were guided by the noise
which he made, till at length they approached the
mouth of the little cave, where the kindly animal
had taken refuge by the side of his master, when
he licked his face and hands as if to awaken him
from his sleep.  Gavin was soon raised from his
slumbers, and made fully sensible of his situation;-the soldiers seized their victim, and raised
a shout of exultation, which announced to their
companions, who waited the result, the success of
their mission.  The helpless man, guarded by
his captors, was brought fiom the recesses of the
ravine, where he had spent many a lonely but
happy hour, and stationed in the presence of the
commander, who is said to have been Claver.
house.  What were the feelings of our worthy
now when he was actually in the hands of those
whom he so much dreaded, we cannot say.  We
are sure that he would not be forsaken in the hour
of trial by Him in whom he trusted. The fear of
trials at a distance is sometimes more oppressive
than even the trials themselves when they have
really come.
When he was brought before Claverhouse, who
seems to have -been more than ordinarily good
humoured that morning, the cavalier, considering
it to be an act of great clemency, said, " I will
spare your life for the sport you have afforded us
this morning," and, pointing to a rough-looking
dragoon, added with the same breath, "Crop off
his ears with the big shears."  Gavin happened
to have the implements of his trade along with
him, and the trooper, at the bidding of his master,
proceeded, as a matter of sport, to shear away the
poor man's ears close by his head, till the warm
2*



1 8             TRADITIONS OF
blood came streaming into his neck and over his
shoulders, and in this painful and pitiable plight
he stood as an object of derision and merriment
to the soldiers, who usually enjoyed as a high
treat whatever was revolting to the feelings of
ordinary men.  The sufferings and indignity to
which Gavin was at this time subjected he endured for conscience' sake; and his power of endurance was strengthened from the consideration,
that many of his brethren were suffering with unshaken constancy afflictions much more severe
and trying.  It is distressing to think of the savage cruelties inflicted by a brutal soldiery on the
peasantry of Scotland, at a time when lawless
power was rampant in the land, and when none
durst reclaim but at the risk of their lives. Little
did this honest man reck perhaps, when he retired
to his covering in the evening, that he would be
dragged from it in the early dawn, and used in
the manner here described; but he was prepared
by grace for whatever might befall him, and no
trial when it came would be deemed strange.
When they had accomplished  this deed of
cruelty, the soldiers marched away with their
bleeding victim to the place of their rendezvous.
His fate after this was banishment, and he was
transported, with others, to the Island of Barbadoes. In this exile he remained a living martyr
to the principles of civil and religious liberty, till
the Revolution broke his chains, and restored him
to liberty, his country, and  his family.  His
dwelling-house, which during his banishment had
fallen into decay, was rebuilt by him, and stands
in the village of Douglas to this day. It is a
thatched tenement of a single story, and the emblems of the handicraft of honest James Gavin are




THE COVENANTERS.              19
to be seen carved on the stone above the door,
with the date A.D. 1695. It cannot now be ascertained how long he lived after his return to his
native place; but tradition affirms, that he enjoyed many years of peace and prosperity, and
saw his children grow up around him.  The descendants of this good man are numerous and respectable.
CHAPTER  II.
John Frazer of Carsfairn-Remarkable deliverance.
THE wilds of Carsfairn, in the upper parts of Galloway, were, in the days of prelatic persecution,
the scene of much oppression and suffering. The
labours of the good John Semple, minister of the
parish, one of the holiest and most devoted men
of his time, were uncommonly blessed for the conversion and edification of many souls.  Under his
ministry 4 the wilderness rejoiced and blossomed
as the rose," and a race of men arose whose eminence in spiritual gifts and graces attracted general notice, and which made the worthy Mr. Peden
often say, " That they had moyen at the court of
heaven beyond many Christian professors of religion he knew."
The gatherings on sacramental occasions at
Carsfalrn were extraordinary. The people flocked
from all parts of the surrounding country, and
even from a great distance. At these seasons the
Saviour was present bearing testimony to the




20               TRADITIONS OF
word of his own grace, and copious and sweet
was the hallowed influence which came over many
hearts.  Mr. Semple was minister in Carsfairn
several years prior to the Restoration, at which
period he was cast into prison, where he lay nine
or ten months; and being afterwards dismissed
by the council, he returned to his parish, where
he continued, under the wing of the indulgence,
to preach the gospel with great fervour and efficacy to the end of his life.  After his death,
which took place in 1677, in the seventy-second
year of his age, no less  than  two garrisons
were stationed in Carsfairn, by means of which,
and the vengeful officiousness of Peter Pearson
the curate, the Christian people, who were numerously scattered throughout the district, were
greatly harassed and afflicted.
In the farm of the upper Holm of Dalquhairn,
in the parish of Carsfairn, lived John Frazer with
his wife Marion Howatson.  John Frazer had for
many precious years enjoyed the ministry of Mr.
Semple, by means of which he had profited much.
He was a man, it would appear, of eminent piety;
and this was enough to ensure the hatred, and to
bring upon him the vengeance, of those whose op.
pressive measures were chiefly directed against
those whose worth rendered them in any way conspicuous.
Canning, the laird of Muirdrogat, resided in the
vicinity of John Frazer, and, being an underling
of the persecutors, caused him no small trouble.
This Canning was originally a covenanter, but,
having deserted his profession, he became an in.
famous informer, and was made collector of the
cess and excise in Carsfairn.  He is mentioned
by Wodrow in the following words:  "Robert




THE COVENANTERS.              21
Cannon of Mardrogat, who once had a profession
of zeal and seriousness, was singularly useful to
the soldiers in discovering the haunts and hidingplaces of the wanderers.  This man was at Pentland, but was lately gained by the managers, and
now turned profane and wicked. His lewdness,
blasphemy, cursing, swearing, cruelty, and dissimulation were notour in that country, and, as
apostates generally are, he was very bloody. He
got money at Edinburgh, and undertook to lead
the soldiers to Mr. Richard Cameron."
When Canning and John Frazer were young
men they were very intimate, and sat in the same
church, listening to the sermons of their venerated
pastor Mr. Semple. Canning, however, never displayed much seriousness even in the days of his
greatest religious profession, so that, even during
the time of public worship, he caused his honest
companion John Frazer no small uneasiness, by
means of his light and irreligious manner. While
Frazer was hearkening with the deepest attention
to the blessed truths of the gospel, Canning was
making signs to him, and using various means to
withdraw his mind from the solemn subjects on
which the man of God dwelt with a holy earnestness and pathos, when he urged on the immediate
acceptance of his audience the great salvation.
Every thing tended to show that Canning's religion amounted to a mere formality, and that he
had never felt the transforming power of the gospel on his heart.  It was not so with his neighbour; he saw the truth, and felt its power, and
became a decided follower of the Saviour, and as
such exposed himself to no small degree of persecution.
John Frazer now found that Canning, his former




22              TRADITIONS OF
acquaintance, was become his enemy, and that he
sought on all occasions to circumvent him. Wodrow, alluding to the general circumstances of Cars.
fairn and its vicinity, at this time, says,'" In the
parish of Carsfairn, I find Inglis, with his men,
persecuting violently in September. Parties were
continually searching by night and day in that
and the neighbouring parish of Dairy, for such
who had been hearers of Mr. Cameron. The soldiers were particularly set upon the finding out of
John Frazer and John Clark, two pious worthy
countrymen, who, they alleged, had been very intimate with Mr. Cameron.  Frequently the soldiers missed them very narrowly; and those two,
as well as many others, were trysted with very
remarkable and providential deliverances from
those who were hunting after their life."
John Frazer now found it necessary to be more
especially upon his guard, and to withdraw occasionally from his home, when danger was apprehended. Muirdrogat, the informer, watched every
opportunity to get him into his power, and uniformly sent the soldiers to his house, when he
thought there was any likelihood of his being at
home.  On every occasion, when any work was
to be done on the farm which required Frazer's
superintendence, the dragoons were sure to make
their appearance.  At one time, when he was directing the operations of his servants, who were
employed in some work which needed his oversight, a company of horsemen was seen approaching. Frazer saw it would be in vain to betake
himself to the fields, as in that case discovery and
pursuit would be unavoidable; and, being at a loss
what to do, he sought a place of concealment in
the interior of the house. He had little expecta



THE tOVENANTERS.              23
tion of securing himself fiom observation, and
therefore, in his perplexity, he ran into a small
closet, and crept into a bed which formed a part
of its homely furniture. In order to prevent, as
far as possible, the mischief which was thought
likely to ensue, one of the domestics, with all celerity, heaped a quantity of wet turfs on the grate,
which, as was common in those times, stood exactly in the middle of the kitchen, or chief apartment of the ancient farm-houses in Scotland. The
powerful heat below quickly disengaged the moisture with which the new load of fuel was saturated, and filled the place with a dense blue
smoke, which rolled its lazy volumes from the
floor to the roof, and from the gable to the door,
in cloudy masses, so impenetrable to the sight,
that one human being could scarcely discern the
face of another.  The soldiers entered, but the
murky atmosphere of the chamber prevented their
seeing what was within.  In the meantime, the
master of the house, who had retreated to the adjoining closet into which the smoke had also found
its way, was enveloped in the bed-clothes, and lay
in trembling anxiety awaiting the result.  In the
search, one of the soldiers entered the antechamber, and found Frazer in the concealment of the
bed. The soldier supposed that he had stumbled on
the object in quest of whom they had come, and,
in order to make the matter sure, he applied what
he imagined would be a test of his character, and
requested him to sing a certain song which he
named, probably one of the profane songs which
were common among the troopers. To this Frazer
objected, and, instead of complying with the dragoon's request, he began to chant, in a low and




24              TRADITIONS OF
solemn tone, an old and forgotten hymn, which
commenced with the following lines:
"For all the babes in Bethlehem town,
King Herod sent and slew."
The dragoon interrupted him, and at the same
time remarked, that he would certainly bring himself to an untimely end, if he persisted in his nonconformist practices.  From  whatever motive,
however, it might proceed, the soldier did not injure him, nor did he inform the party of the discovery he had made; and while the uproarious
troopers were searching all the places about the
dwelling-house  and  out-buildings, Frazer remained safe in his concealment.  The worthy
man whom  God had thus shielded, even in the
presence of his enemies, watched his opportunity,
and, leaving the house with all expedition, betook
himself to the moorlands, with his shepherd's
plaid thrown across his shoulders, and his dog
trudging by his side.
At another time he experienced a deliverance
equally providential. His restless enemies, bent
on his destruction, having watched an opportunity,
sent a company of dragoons to his house, with
strict injunctions to seize his person.  Accordingly, having set out at a convenient time, the
troopers arrived at the upper Holm of Dalquhairn
at an hour when they thought themselves secure
of their object. The approach of the soldiers, it
would appear, was not observed by any individual
belonging to the household, so that the dwelling
was invested before the inmates were aware of
the circumstance. In order to secure their prey,
the soldiers placed themselves at every door and




THE COVENANTERS.              25
window, so that none could possibly escape without their notice. It happened at the time that
John Frazer was within, and his escape seemed
to be impracticable. Finding it in vain to at.
tempt to dart out at the door, he ran to a small
window at the back part of the house, and sought
to escape through it.  At this window, however,
a dragoon was stationed, and, when Frazer thrust
his head and shoulders through the little opening,
he was immediately confronted by the soldier,
who happened to be alone on the spot. "s So, ho,
you are there, friend, are you,-the very man on
the word of an honourable cavalier," muttered the
dragoon, as John dragged himself from the aperture, and stood before the burly sentinel.  "I am
in your power," said the worthy man.  "Yes,"
replied the trooper, "but I feel, some how or
other, as if I were not inclined at present to use
that power; nobody is witness to this interview,
run to that covert, and hide yourself; do not flee
to the hill, for your flight may perchance be seen;
and though you were as light of foot as a roe, our
fleet horses will outrun you."  The covert, to
which the humane soldier pointed, was a dense
willow bush, which grew on the margin of the
burn. at the back of the dwelling-house, whose
pliant and drooping branches, bending over the
stream, kissed the bosom of its limpid waters, as
they were bidding adieu to the upland solitudes,
and hastening away to accompany the kindred
rills, that were pursuing their course to the distant ocean. In this retreat among the willows by
the gurgling brook, John kept himself till the
search was ended, and the party had withdrawn
from the place; the God in whose cause he was
enduring hardships having again disposed one of
3




26              TRADITIONS OF
his enemies to show him favour at a moment when
his safety was despaired of.
A good man who observes and acknowledges
the hand of God in every thing, discerns many a
providential interference in his behalf, which
greatly strengthens his faith, and affords many a
theme of sweet musing on the gracious care and
love of Him whose tender mercies are over all his
works.  Few men similarly situated had greater
reason to exercise thankfulness for repeated deliverances in perilous circumstances, than John
Frazer.  The following incident is illustrative of
this. Toward the close of a dreary winter day,
he left his concealment in the cold and lonely
moors, and plodded his way to his friendly home
to enjoy the genial heat of the blazing hearth, and
the equally necessary refreshment of food. As
the household lived in the constant fear of a visit
from their marauding foes, who came as it best
suited them, either by night or by day, it was
judged prudent that John should sleep during the
night in the barn. The reason for this precaution was, that the troopers on their arrival generally searched the dwelling-house before they proceeded to the office-houses. Accordingly, when
the family retired to rest, the honest man, who
was now like a stranger in his own dwelling, betook himself to the barn, where, among the dry
straw piled around, a comfortable bed was prepared, furnished with abundance of soft and woolly
blankets, of which there is generally a plentiful
store in the houses of the moorland farmers. On
this friendly couch John Frazer enjoyed for a few
hours a sweet and refreshing sleep.  About the
middle of the night, however, the quietude of the
cottage was interrupted, not by the " cock's shrill




THE COVENANTERS.               27
clarion," but by the arrival of the dragoons, who
chose this season the better to secure their object.
It was agreed among the troopers that three of
their number should station themselves at different places at a short distance fiom the house, in
case that he, after whom  they had come, should
escape to the fields, while the rest should proceed to the domicile, and commence an unsparing
search.
It happened that the ground was covered with
snow, so that, when the cavalry approached, their
arrival was not indicated by the usual noise of the
horses' feet on the pavement. The first place they
entered was the stable, where they sought provender and shelter for their horses. It was customary in many parts of Scotland for the male
servants to sleep in the stable in the loft immediately above the stalls of their horses, where they
found a dormitory more than commonly warm
and comfortable during the long and cold winter
nights.  When the troopers had arranged matters
according to their mind in the stable below, their
next work was to awaken the young man who
slept in the apartment above, on a bed which bestrode the joists, across which a few rude boards
were placed to render the footing less dangerous.
The youth, however, being in a profound sleep, did
not answer at the repeated and loud calls of the
men, and from his silence they drew the conclusion that there was a number of covenanters concealed about the place, as on all former occasions
he had answered at their first call.  On this as.
sumption, one of the party ran to call in the three
troopers who were stationed at their different posts
around the house, to assist in securing the persons




28             TRADITIONS OF
who, they imagined were concealed in the dark
corners of the stable. By means of the noise and
confusion  made in the adjoining stable, John
Frazer awoke, and, hastily drawing on a part of
his clothes, saw from the barn-door, which he
warily opened, a dragoon riding round to the
stable. The true position of matters became instantly apparent, and, without further consideration, he fled from the place by a back door, and
ran half-apparelled and barefooted through the
deep and sinking snow, at his utmost speed, to the
distance of no less than three miles, till he reached
the house of a friend, where he obtained a shelter
for the night.
When the soldiers had examined the stable,
not finding what they expected, they proceeded to
the dwelling-house, and, being equally unsuccessful there, they entered the barn. Having searched
the various places which were calculated to afford
concealment, they at last stumbled on the bed
which but a few minutes before contained the person they were so anxiously seeking.  Their cha.
grin and disappointment knew no bounds when
they ascertained beyond a doubt that John Frazer,
part of whose body clothes, which in the hurry of
escape he had forgotten to put on, was lying on
the bed from which he had so lately risen, had
actually been in the place and near them, but
was now beyond their reach. They now saw the
mistake they had committed in making so much
noise in the stable, and in calling in the sentinels,
who, if they had been allowed to remain on their
stations, might have intercepted him in his flight;
but Providence had planned his escape, and confounded the devices of his enemies.
In default, however, of the man whom they




THE COVENANTERS.               29
sought, the troopers seized on every thing they
found in the house.  What they could not carry
away they destroyed on the spot, and departed
determined to execute their schemes with greater
caution the next time they had occasion to return.
At another critical moment John Frazer owed
his deliverance to the following simple circumstances. In the landward parts of Scotland, more
especially in former times, the farm-houses were
the principal places of resort to the wandering
poor, who sought from the hospitable inhabitants
a morsel of bread and a night's lodging.  This
boon was scarcely ever denied, particularly by
the people of the moorland districts, who considered it not only humane, but also an essential
part of their religion  to befriend the  needy.
Owing to the considerable number of mendicants
who sometimes met at the same place seeking
quarters, as they termed it, or a shelter for the
night, there was generally a corner in the barn
appropriated for their reception during the night,
well furnished with soft hay and warm blankets.
To this retreat they withdrew at a certain hour,
after family worship, and after having been regaled with a good supper. But besides the barn,
there was also, in some houses, a small unten.
anted apartment, frequently employed in the same
way, and in which stood what was called the
" poor man's bed," and which was seldom without an occupant.
One night when John Frazer had ventured to
pay a visit to his home, at a time when he ima.
gined there was but little risk in doing so, a corn
pany of soldiers, at the dead of night, rode hastily
3*




i0             TRADITION'S OF
into the close or area before the door, with a view
oi surprising the family at an unusual hour. The
house was instantly, like a beleaguered city, surrounded by the troopers, who were determined
that on this occasion he should not escape their
hands.  Frazer being fully alive to the danger of
his situation, abandoned all hopes of escape, and
was prepared to resign himself to the will of
Providence, and to meet death in the cause of
his Redeemer with constancy and faith. Escape
was impossible, and to seek for concealment within appeared hopeless. His wife, who was a pious
and prudent woman, being  greatly concerned
about her husband's safety, was nearly at her wit's
end.  In the moment of solicitude and peril, and
when there was no time to deliberate, she pointed
to " the poor man's bed," and urged him to run to
it without delay. He did so, and his wife following, covered him hastily with tattered clothes, and
an old rug. In this retreat he lay as if he had
been a mendicant, who had been admitted to a
night's repose on the lowly couch.  The dragoons entered, and  accomplished  their usual
search without finding him.  The soldiers having
searched the house so often, were acquainted with
every part of it, and knew the " poor man's bed,"
and the kind of people who occupied it. They
saw, on looking into the apartment, an individual
in the bed; but it never once occurred to them
that that individual was the man they were seeking, and they turned away without disturbing the
poor man in his resting-place.  Providence in
this way shielded this worthy man, his enemies
supposing him to be one of those needy persons
whom his charitable hand had often relieved; and
he was now, as the reward of his benevolence,




THE COVENANTERS.              31
saved under the impression that himself was one
of them.
After this, John Frazer was almost a constant
exile from his house, and remained for the most
part in the moors and remote solitudes in company with those who were subjected to similar
harassings. His heart, however, was in his home;
and the strong affection which he cherished for
his family often prompted him to visit those in
whom he was so deeply interested.  One evening
he left his retreat in the wilds, and came to his
house about midnight, and, having roused the inmates from their slumbers, obtained admittance.
In the bosom of his happy family he forgot his
sufferings, and his danger, and remained with
them  till the dawn.   When the day was filly
ushered in, and the glorious sun had poured on
hill and moor a flood of splendour, gladdening the
wilderness and its lonely tenants, Marion Howatson, anxious to enjoy the company of her husband another day, having looked out afar on the
waste, and seeing no appearance of the enemy,
prevailed with him to remain, in the fond hope
that no harm would befall him. The husband
and the father complied with the wishes of his
family, and rejoiced in the prospect of a more
lengthened stay than he had anticipated.  The
day advanced, and the sun had risen to his meridian height, and nothing seemed to interrupt the
tranquillity of the family in the Holm of Dalqu.
hairn, and John hoped that in the dusk of the
evening, he would be able to retire unperceived,
and to withdraw in safety to his retreat in the
desert. But as the serenity of a morning which
promises a bright and tranquil day, sometimes
proves deceitful, so the expectations of John Fra



32             TRADITIONS OF
zer and his wife ended in disappointment.  Whether the troopers had received information from
some wily spy, or had merely set out at a peradventure of their own accord, it is of little consequence to ascertain; but so it happened that they
arrived at the upper Holm of Dalquhairn as the
family were comfortably seated round the dinner
table. Their arrival was sudden and unnoticed
by any person, till they had actually surrounded
the house.
John Frazer had hitherto succeeded in making
his escape, but on this occasion it was otherwise.
The troopers entered the house, and seized him
where he sat. They bound him firmly with ropes,
tying his arms behind his back. They next carried him to the stable, and cast him into one of
the stalls, where they left him, and locked the
door behind them.  Having thus secured their
prey, they proceeded to the dwelling-house, where
they entertained themselves with a plentiful meal
at the expense of him whose person they had so
iniquitously imprisoned.  It was a hilarious occasion to the troopers, who had at last succeeded in
their object, and they regaled themselves with
what liquors they found in the house, and continued carousing and boasting of their success till
they exhibited no unequivocal symptoms of intoxication.
During the time of their rude and profane festivities, the worthy man, who was bound in the
stable like a victim for the slaughter, was musing
on the event which had befallen him, and on its
probable consequences.  His prayer was to the
God of his life, who had hitherto delivered him,
and who was able to deliver him still.
As the troopers remained long quaffing the




THE COVENANTERS.               33
stout brown ale, with which in those times the
houses of the Scottish tenantry were plentifully
supplied from their own malt, Frazer crept into a
dark part of the stable, and rearing himself bolt
upright, crushed himself into a corner waiting till
he should be dragged forth by his merciless foes.
At length the soldiers rose from the festive board,
and prepared to depart. They entered the stable
reeling and staggering among the horses, and
scarcely knowing what they were about. Having
led their steeds into the open air, every one being
occupied with his own concerns, and oblivious of
all things else, they mounted and rode off in a
noisy and disorderly manner, leaving behind, by
a marvellous oversight, the prize which they
chiefly valued.  When the party had fairly left
the place, and were seen scouring along the bent,
Marion ran to the stable, and found her husband
standing safe in the corner, and, congratulating
him on the wonderful deliverance, instantly cut
the cords that bound his hands, and set him free.
Their gratitude to the Preserver of their life may
easily be conceived, when they saw the prey taken
from the mighty, at the very moment when it was
about to be devoured.
This worthy couple, however, suspected that
the danger was not over; they knew that the
troopers, whenever they should observe their mis.
take, would return armed with all the fury of dis.
appointment, and that, being in a state of intoxication, they would wreak their vengeance on them
without mercy.  Accordingly, John prepared for
instant flight, and Marion, knowing that they
would as little spare her as her husband, resolved
for her own personal safety to accompany him,
leaving tne children, in the meantime, to the care




3a              TRADITIONS OF
of a servant.  Without losing time, therefore.
they proceeded to the fields to seek, for a season,
a hiding-place, till the fury of their enemies had
abated.
It was not long after they retired till the dragoons, as was anticipated, returned. They had
missed their prisoner when they were well advanced on their way, and, with blank astonishment at the circumstance, they turned and hastened back with winged speed to recover the prize.
When they arrived at the place, they found that
Frazer had fled, and his wife along with him.
Their rage was excessive, and, knowing that it
was in vain to search for the fugitives in the
pathless deserts, they proceeded to work all the
mischief they could within the dwelling-house,
and having satisfied their revenge, as far as was
practicable, they returned as they came.
The houseless pair now wandered on the hills
in the vicinity of their home, and frequently
visited their household in the absence of the
enemy.  The mother's heart yearned over the
helpless children, who were now bereaved of her
affectionate care, and often did she steal them
a visit at the imminent risk of her life. A family
can seldom be placed in a more painful situation,
than where parents and children are thus severed
by the pitiless hand of persecution. The mourning of the tender-hearted mother sitting in the
lonely desert, and the wailings of the helpless
children by the hearth, bespeak the endurance
of affliction under which human nature is ready to
sink.
It was not long after this occurrence, however,
till the welcome news of the Revolution sounded
like the silver trumpet of a hallowed jubilee,




THE COVENANTERS.               35
through the breadth and length of a wasted land.
The happy tidings that the arm of the oppressor
was broken, and that the children of tribulation
were now to walk forth out of the furnace, reached
the dreary caves in the wilderness, and the lowly
cottages in the glens, and the gloomy prisons in
the crowded city; and all hearts bounded with
joyousness, and gratitude for a deliverance so
signal and so opportune was expressed in loud acclamations of praise to Him who works deliver.
ances in Jacob.
John Frazer and Marion Howatson returned
from  their wanderings, to seek, without the fear
of further interruption from the enemy, a restingplace in their own house.  Great was the satisfaction expressed by the artless children when
they understood that their father and mother were
now to abide with them. Still their weeping, it is
said, was at times excessive, when the painful
suspicion obtruded itself that their parents might
yet be obliged to flee from their home, and leave
them as before.  So great was the occasional distress of the poor children on this point, that the
heart of their affectionate mother was often wrung
with anguish at their unfeigned affliction, and it
was with great difficulty that she succeeded in
allaying their apprehensions, and in soothing their
sorrows.
How long the worthy persons survived the days
of their tribulation, is not said. There are, however, at present living one great-grand-child, and
two great-great-grand-children of these sufferers,
and they fondly cherish the memory of their godly
ancestors.




36              TRADITIONS OF
CHAPTER III.
Alexander Williamson-Gathering at Carsfairn-Incident.
THE Yochan  is a beautiful stream, which dis.
charges itself into the river Nith, on the south
side, exactly opposite the town of Sanquhar.  Its
banks are skirted with wood close to the water's
edge, presenting, on a small scale, a specimen of
the extensive forests which, in remote ages, covered the greater part of the country.  The bed
of this river, composed for the most part of blue
whinstone, is worn smooth and deep by the constant
action of the current.  The different stages of the
river's progress in its gradual sinking to its present level, are distinctly marked by the most unequivocal indications on both sides of its course;
and the geologist, who seeks to extort from nature
the knowledge of facts which no history has re.
corded, may here find sufficient entertainment,
and subjects enow of curious investigation, for
many a long summer's day.  The stream along
the entire line of its tract, which is only about
eight or nine  miles, is adorned with scenery
charmingly picturesque, the beauties of which are
seldom disclosed to any save the anglers and the
shepherds, who are almost the only persons that
visit its solitary banks.  Its seclusion, its close
retreats, and its woody coverts, rendered it an e'igible place of resort to the persecuted remnant
who sought safety in retiring as far as possible
from  the dwellings of men.  The Yochan, near
its source, where  the deep and rugged  glen




THE COVENANTERS.               37
through which it pours its waters rises toward the
hills and the wilder parts of the district, was more
especially fiequented by the worthies of the covenant.  It formed a kind of central meeting-place
for the refugees of Ayrshire, Nithsdale, and Galloway.  From  the green and sheltered spots on
the high ridges of the mountains where they lay
concealed, they could easily, without being dliscovered, discern at a great distance on all sides if
any thing of a hostile nature was in motion.
Glen-Harra rig is particularly mentioned as being
a place of this description; a beautiful green plot,
far up the valley, from which an extensive view is
obtained, and where the wanderers often assembled for social intercourse and the worship of
God.  It was in such places that, without restraint or fear of discovery, they could raise on
high the loud voice of praise, the heavenly melody
of which, coming from  hearts alive to God and
wafted along on the gentle breeze, fell on the ears
of the shepherds by the distant cairn, revealing to
them a secret which, rather than disclose, they
would submit to lose their lives.
There lived in times of persecution in a place
called Cruffell, near the source of the Yochan, a
man of the name of Alexander Williamson. This
man was a covenanter, and one who feared God
with all his house.  His principles forbade him to
attend the ministrations of the curate, and this ex,
posed him to the fierce displeasure of those who
laboured to bring the entire community to one
uniform mode of religious worship. Williamson
associated chiefly with those who were of kindred
sentiments with himself on ecclesiastical matters,
and consorted with the pious men who occasionally withdrew to the upland wilds from the face
4




38              TRADITIONS OF
of those who thirsted for their blood. His place
of residence soon became noted among the wanderers, who uniformly courted the remotest retreats; and many a friendless but patient sufferer
in the cause of truth and goodness, found a cordial welcome at his hearth, and a meal at his
board, and a nightly shelter under his roof; and
he was approven in his deed, and the blessing of
him  that was ready to perish came upon him.
What a privilege is it to be made serviceable to
Christ's people, and what an honour to be helpful
with our sympathies and beneficence to those who
are suffering for his sake!  If, when his people
are suffering in his cause, the Head complains
fiom  heaven, " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou.mze?" may we not suppose that when these sufferings are alleviated by the soothing hand of kindness,
Christis gratified, and looks down from  heaven
with an approving smile on those who have done
this for his salke? It has been observed, that as
those who have oppressed God's heritage have, in
many instances, been scattered abroad, and their
houses left desolate; so those who have befriended
his cause, and maintained, in the face of scorn and
persecution, their adherence to the truth, have
been preserved, and their offspring for many generations honoured among men.  The descendants
of many of the worthies are to this day known in
the land, and so is the posterity of Alexander Williamson.
In the family of our worthy there was an infant child that had not yet been devoted to the
Lord in baptism, and the administration of this
ordinance was greatly desiderated by the pious
head of the household. The sealing ordinances,
as they are called, were, in those days of the




THE COVENA NTIERS.              39
church's tribulation, rarely enjoyed; and it was
only at field preachings, or on the occasion of the
casual visit of a banished minister, that the sacrament of baptism could be observed. Cruffell, as
Williamson was familiarly denominated from the
name of his residence, had heard that there was
to be a great gathering in the wilds of Carsfairn,
in which parish the godly John Semple ministered
with amazing success for many a year. The news
of this conventicle, to be held on an early day,
spread with rapidity far and wide, and a vast congregation from  all parts was anticipated.  The
distance between Cruffell and the proposed place
of meeting was not so great but that the journey
might, with considerable ease, be performed on
the Sabbath morning.  It was agreed between
Williamson and his wife that the infant should
be carried to Carsfairn for baptism, while she
should remain at home with the rest of the children, who were too young to travel so far.  Accordingly the appointed period arrived. It was a
fine morning, when the days were at the longest,
and moss and moor were dry as dust, and every
track and footpath in the best trim for pedestrians.
Having suitably arrayed the child, and committed
him to a worthy female acquaintance who, on this
occasion, was to act the part of a mother, the
company departed and descended the rugged hills
in the direction of the water of Ken, not far from
its source.  They were well acquainted with every
glen and moss and hillock and brook in the wild
uplands,
"Where rivers there but brooks
Dispart to different seas;"
and they could track their way with perfect pre.




40              TRADITIONS OF
cision where others would lose themselves and
wander in perpetual bewilderment. They entered
on the beautiful pastoral valley of the Ken, whose
pellucid stream is fed by many a rill and tributary from the bordering hills, having the magnificent Cairnsmoor on their right, whose bold and
apparently perpendicular front rises to an enormous height, taking the precedency of all the
congregated mountains in the midst of which he
stands.  There are few tracts in the south-west
of Scotland to perambulate which, on a bright
summer's day, would more richly repay the true
lover of scenery and the picturesque, than the
upper strath of the Ken. Our little band passed
along this sweetly sequestered vale in the stillness
of the early Sabbath's morn, remembering the
sanctity of the day, meditating on the grace of
Him  whose resurrection it commemorates, conversing on the absorbing matters of the gospel
salvation, and occasionally adverting to the trying
times in which they lived, when the public ordinances of religion were observed by them at the
risk of their lives.  As they went on and approached nearer and nearer the place of meeting,
companies, dressed in their best apparel, were
seen issuing from the narrow glens and descending the steep hills on all sides, and mingling themselves with the living streams that were pouring
along the more frequented roads that cross and
recross, intersecting the country in every direction. The solitudes of Carsfairn had been fixed
on for the meeting, because they were supposed to
occupy the most central position for assembling
the inhabitants of the higher parts of Galloway,
Ayrshire, and Nithsdale, and probably also because that district was not at the time so much in



THE COVENANTERS.               41
fested by the troopers.  The hills in the neighbourhood of this place present a harsh and melancholy aspect, and so perfectly dreary in some
parts is the scene as to produce an unusual depression of spirits in the spectator. The wilderness of Arabia Petrea, in which the Israelites
wandered for the space of forty years, can hardly
furnish  any thing in appearance more dismal
than is to be witnessed in certain points of this
locality.
When the people had convened, gathered from
all parts of the west, like a great flock of sheep
which the shepherd has collected to some grassy
spot in the wilderness that they may repose for
a while in good pasture, the worship of God commenced.  The preacher stood on a temporary ele.
vation, that he might be easily discernible from
every corner of the field on which the company
had spread themselves.  Warders were stationed
on the distant heights, and watchmen at the more
common thoroughfares, and at the narrow outlets
of the hills, all ready to give the preconcerted
signal in case of danger. With these precautions,
and reposing more especially on the guardianship
of a gracious Providence, the assembly, with a
feeling of confidence and security scarcely conceivable by us, raised, in the retreat of the de.
sert, with one heart and one voice, " the loud acclaim of praise." Those who have witnessed the
field or tent preachings on sacramental occasions,
which till the other year were common in the
higher localities of Ayrshire and Nithsdale, and
which, in one or two instances, are still in use,
know well the effect which the voice of a great
multitude, singing in the open air the high praises
of our God, has on the mind. The effect is deeply
4*




42             TRADITIONS OF
solemnizing. There is something awful, and yet
something delightfully soothing, like the swell and
the cadence of a full-toned trumpet heard from
afar.  And the effect is greatly heightened when
the worshipper fixes his eyes on the roof and on
the walls of that spacious temple in the midst of
which he stands,-a temple built by God himself,
and perfected with the garniture of his own hands.
How  poor is the most elaborate and gorgeous
structure reared by human skill compared with
this! Here the divinity is plainly to be seen in
his own workmanship, and the spirit of devotion
is both enkindled and fed from the contemplation
of the magnificent operations of him,," who is
wonderful in counsel and excellent in working."
After the preliminary services of praise and
supplication, the minister proceeded to address
the large assemblage that had gathered round him.
The minds of the people were wound up to the
highest pitch of attention and expectancy, when
the man of God rose up to speak to them on the
solemn subjects of the Christian faith. The earnestness and unction of his manner, together with
a consideration of the circumstances in which they
were placed, produced a deep impression on every
heart.  The preacher descanted at considerable
length on the character of the times, dwelling
with particular emphasis on the suffering state of
the church of God in the land,-the bush burning
and not consumed,-the precious metal smelted
down in the furnace but not wasted away.  It
was not to be wondered at, that, in those long
continued days of oppression, when men's hearts
were ready to fail them, the preachers of the period should givevent to an embittered eloquence
in depicting their wrongs; especially when they




THE COVENANTERS.               43
thought on the precious blood that had been so
wantonly and profusely shed on scaffolds and on
fields,-the blood of the best and bravest hearts
that the land could boast of. It was no wonder,
nor was it wrong, that a prominency should be
given to these considerations.  But, then, there
was a danger, in some cases, of substituting this
theme for the gospel, or, at least, of leaving less
room for the message of salvation. On the present occasion, however, the servant of Christ,
whose name tradition has not whispered, though
he forgot not the engrossing topic of the church's
affliction, failed not to announce "the glorious
gospel of the blessed God."  He knew that this
was the grand instrument of salvation, — the
blessed means, in the hand of the Holy Spirit, of
bringing the soul into union with Jesus Christ,
and of reconciling the heart to God; and, therefore, with all faithfulness and fervency, as one
who himself had experienced the power of the
truth, did he urge on the crowds who were listening to his words the belief and acceptance of the
doctrine of Christ. How sweet must it have been
to hear in the lonely wilderness the beseeching
voice of heavenly mercy inviting and encouraging
sinners to come without delay or qualification to
the common Saviour! Many a time of refreshing
firom the presence of the Lord, which no pen has
recorded and no tradition has preserved, must
have been experienced by God's people, when for
his sake they retreated to the wilderness to keep
pure and entire that mode of worshipping him,
which in their conscience they believed to be
agreeable to his word. A parting word of exhortation to steadfastness in the profession of the
gospel, and of encouragement to the faint-hearted




44             TRADITIONS OF
in that dark and evil time, would doubtless be im.
parted by the messenger of him who said to his
ancient church in affliction, " Be thou faithful
unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."
When the discourse was closed, the parents who
had children to present for baptism stood forward
in a row, each having his little babe in his arms.
During the time that the ordinance was being administered, the audience silently prayed for the descent of the promised blessing on the parents and
their offspring, and the servant of God, in an audible voice, besought the gracious influences of
the Holy Spirit, the shedding down of which was
symbolized by the pouring of water upon the body,
and prayed that the children of every household
that feared the Lord might be trained up to occupy the place of their fathers, and to fill the
room of those who, through the violence of persecution, had been taken away from the earth. At
length the services were concluded, and the parting benediction was pronounced.  Still the multitude seemed loath to part,-to quit, it might be
for ever, that place which had been a Bethel to
many, and they knew not where they would meet
next; for the word of the Lord was scarce in
these days, and the heavenly manna, which was
gathered in the wilderness was gathered at the
peril of their lives. The multitude at last broke
up and separated, having taken many an affectionate farewell, and many a lingering look of him
whom God had sent to them with the refreshing
words of eternal life. It was a beautiful sight to
see so great a crowd dispersing themselves in all. directions and repairing to their several homes;
some toiling up the mountainous ascent in lengthened rows of single files, tracing the narrow foot



THE COVENANTERS.                 45
paths formed by the sheep on the brow of the hills,
others pursuing their course along the deep windings of the glens, and others traversing the broken
surface of the dark and heather-tufted mloss, and
all departing in peace, no enemy having been allowed to come near them, God having blessed
them with inward peace and outward tranquillity,
" making them  to lie down  in  green  pastures,
and leading them beside the still waters." The
pious men who "led  the flocks" of God " to
the backside of the desert," denied themselves
every  comfort, and  braved  every  danger for
their sake, and they did not go without their reward.
"At the risk of their lives with their flocks they would meet,
In storm and in tempest, in rain and in sleet,
Where the mist in the moor-glens lay darkest,'twas there,
In the thick cloud concealed, they assembled for prayer.
In cities the wells of salvation were sealed,
More brightly to burst in the moor and the field,
And the Spirit which fled from the dwellings of men
Like a manna-cloud rained round the camp in the glen."
In the residence of Alexander Williamson none
were to be found on this Sabbath but his wife and
the helpless children, for all had resorted to the
conventicle at Carsfairn.  It will not be out of
keeping with the character of this pious household, to suppose that the worthy mother and her
children were employed in a manner suitable to
the sacredness of the day.  It is not to be conceived that, as a woman professing godliness, she
would be engaged in any other way than in reading the holy Scriptures, and in endeavouring to
impress the truth on the tender minds of her little
ones, directing their thoughts to Jesus the Saviour,




46              TRADITIONS OF
and praying with them for that heavenly influence
which is necessary to regenerate and sanctify the
soul, and in this way converting her solitary cottage into a church, where God' s presence was enjoyed as well as in the midst of the public assembly.  " And these words which I command thee
this day shall be in thine heart, and thou shalt
teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt
talk of them  when thou sittest in thine house,
and when thou walkest by the way, and when
thou liest down, and when thou risest up." Mothers have much in their power in training their
households either for good or for evil, and they
are greatly responsible for the trust committed to
them.  What blessed effects would  follow  if
mothers were to act a faithful part toward their
children!   "Train up a child in the way he
should go, and when he is old he will not depart
from it." If due instruction were imparted, and
accompanied with fervent and believing prayer,
the result would be truly gratifying.  "In the
morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand, for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether
they both shall be alike good." If we use the
means in faith, we may rest assured that the
Lord will not restrain the blessing.    I will pour
my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon
thine offspring, and they shall spring up as among
tile grass, and as willows by the water courses;
one shall say, I am the Lord's, and another shall
call himself by the name of Jacob, and another
shall subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and
surname himself by the name of Israel."
As this good woman was engaged in these religious exercises on God's holy rest, and not ex




THE COVENANTERS.              47
pecting that the quietude of her dwelling would
be interrupted, all on a sudden she observed a
party of horsemen coming up the glen.  She
guessed their purpose,-she knew that they were
in search of her husband. The cradle which had
been occupied by the infant in the morning was
standing empty on the floor, and it occurred to
her that inquiry might be made respecting the
absence of the babe, which might unhappily lead
to the discovery of the errand on which her husband had gone.  In haste she wrapped a bundle
of clothes together, and, placing it in the cradle,
threw over it a clean covering, and was rocking
and humming a lullaby when the dragoons entered.  "Where is your husband?" demanded
the soldiers sternly.  " He is not at home," replied she, " and I cannot tell where he may, at
this moment, be."  This answer did not satisfy
the party, and they proceeded forthwith to examine every corner of the dwelling and outhouses.
The search was minute.  They investigated every
place of supposable concealment: the beds within
and underneath, the closets, the lofts, the peathouse, The stable, the barn, and the hay stack,all were explored, but nothing could be found.
When they saw that their exploration was in vain,
they gave vent, as on all similar occasions, to
profane and abusive language, and at last were
obliged to depart without their object.  There is
one thing very obvious in this case, that the fear,
of Cruffell's wife must have been very great, lest
the troopers should happen to linger in idle sport
about the place until the company returned from
the meeting.  It was no uncommon thing for the
dragoons when they came to a house, especially
in the more desert parts, to regale themselves




48              TRADITIONS OF
plentifully at the expense of those to whom they
paid their visit, consuming bread and meat and
ale till they had gratified their appetite, and then
destroyed the remainder.  They scampered off.
however, leaving the good woman, and her child.
ren unharmed in the solitude of their mountain.
The heart of the mother and the wife swelled
with grateful emotion, and on her knees she rendered thanks to the God of her life for the signal deliverance afforded.  It is more especially in
times of trial that the faith of the Lord's people
is tested. It is easy to trust when danger is afar
off; but when it comes near, and threatens to
overwhelm us " in a moment suddenly," it tries
our confidence to the uttermost. How sweet must
it be to experience a deliverance as the conse.
quence of faith, and to discern the hand of our
heavenly Father stretched out for our defence because we trusted in him!
As the day began to close the friends returned
from the conventicle, and the sweet infant, now
admitted as a member of the visible church, was
placed again on its mother's knee.  The occur.
rences of the day were rehearsed, and Williamson
was deeply impressed by the accident related by
his wife.  The sense of the danger which he had
escaped on the one hand, and the spiritual benefit
bestowed on himself and his friends on the other,
bound him with a new tie of obligation to Him
who is at once the guardian of the life, and the
saviour of the soul. The mercies which God se.
cretly, and unobserved by us, works out for us,
generally affect us more deeply. The kindness
of God to Jacob in preserving, unknown to him,
the life of Joseph, and in making him governor
over all the land of Egypt, was perhaps regarded
0,                 CD~~i""r~"




THE COVENANTERS.              49
by the patriarch as a more truly disinterested display of divine care and goodness than any mercy
of a merely temporal kind he had ever enjoyed.
When the evening meal was served the family assembled for the closing act of worship, on which
occasion the grateful head of the family, with an
increased confidence of faith, poured out his heart
before the Lord, and rendered thanks for all that
paternal care which had that day been experienced; and for all the rich communications of
heavenly grace which had been conferred,-then
all retired to rest under the sheltering wings of
Him who never slumbers nor sleeps.
We see from this incident that the way of duty
is always the safest and the most comfortable.
Had Williamson, on this Sabbath, remained at
home, it is every way likely that he would have
lost his life, or been carried off a prisoner.  But
he was found in God's way and at the post of
duty, though that post was not without its danger, and God preserved both him and his house.
hold. When the children of Israel of old went
up to the annual festivals at Jerusalem, it was
promised that no enemy  should  invade their
dwellings in their absence; and, relying on this
promise, they did what God bade thein, and they
experienced the fulfilment of his word. Now,
though we have no specific promise of this kind,
that the Lord will exercise a particular providence
over our households, when, at a distance from
them, we are waiting on him in his ordinances,
yet we have the general promise of the divine protection to keep us and ours in all our ways when
we trust in God: 4 Commit thy way unto the
Lord; trust also in him, and he will bring it to
pass."  There is an anecdote told of two women
5




50             TRADITIONS OF
who lived in the same neighbourhood, but whose
residence was at a considerable distance from
their usual place of worship. As they were sitting
together one day in the church, one of them was
hastily called out, and the other being her neighbour followed her.  When she reached the door
it was announced to her that one of her small
children, whom she had left behind, was burnt to
death by accident.  "It cannot be my child," replied the woman.  " Why may it not be your
child?" said her friend; " does not the messenger
from the very place plainly declare that it is?"
" No matter," persisted she, " it cannot be my
child.", It is foolish in you to speak in that
way; what ground have you for your assertion?"
c' Well, then," answered she, " I will show you
the ground of my confidence in this case. I conm
mitted my household to the Lord before I left
home, and besought him  to keep them from all
harm when I was in the way of my duty worshipping in his house, and I had confidence in
prayer that he would grant what I requested. I
have done the same for years past, and I have
never yet found any thing wrong on my return,
and I have as little reason to expect any thing
wrong to-day."  They reached their home, and
what was the fact? It was the child of the other
woman, her companion, that had lost its life. " In
all thy ways acknowledge him, and he will direct
thy paths."  Let us always do our duty, and
leave the event to God, and we shall find that he
will manage matters for us a thousand times
better than we could for ourselves. Alexander
Williamson, on the Sabbath specified, went in the
way of the Lord, and the Lord blessed him in his
going out, and in his coming in.




THE COVENANTERS.                51
Alexander Williamson died in 1709, and was
buried in the church-yard of Sanquhar, where the
rude thrtg/h stone  still points out his restingplace.  He was born in 1635, and lived throughout the whole of the troublous times. His wife,
Marion Haining, reposes with him in the same
grave.
It appears that this worthy had removed from
Cruffell prior to his decease, and had taken up his
residence at Burnfoot, where he died.  The farm
of Burnfoot is situated on the south side of the
Nith, about a mile above the town of Sanquhar.
The prospect fiom the farm-house is one of the
most enchanting in the locality.  On the north,
the romantic scenery of the Crawick bursts with
admirable effect on the view. The twin hills of
Knockenhair and  Carco, clad in velvet green,
overlook the sweet vale beneath; while the bold
front of Castle Robert height is seen in the
back ground peering over the intervening ridge
like a lion lifting his bead from his lair, and peep.
ing from his covert into the open space beyond.
On the rising ground between and on its very
summit grows a solitary tree, the last remnant of
an ancient forest, whose form, painted on the soft
blue sky, or on the curtains of the snowy mist,
uniformly arrests the eye of the spectator, as it
roams over the charming scene.  To the east are
to be seen the dark heights of Morton and Durrisdeer frowning in the distance, while on the south
the wooded slopes of Eliock ornament the skirts
of the wilderness.  The whole field of vision
round and round presents a delightful aspect, and
forms on a large scale one of those scenes in the
survey of which the eye never tires.  The site of
Burnfoot as a residence was well selected by the




52              TRADITIONS OF
ancient people, and it is now made still more eligible by the hand of the architect and of the agriculturist.
CHAPTER IV.
Reeves of Cruffell-Kers of Scar-Hiding-places.
IF we were left to form our estimate of the cha.
racter of the persons to whom these sketches refer, from the odium which their adversaries endeavour to attach to their name, we would be
ready to conclude that they were the vilest and
most infamous of men, and that it was their crimes
which exposed them to the severe treatment which
they met with. Instead, however, of their being
what their enemies alleged, they were in reality a
class of the best and holiest men of whom the land
could boast.  The cause which they advocated,
and in the support of which they suffered, was
righteous. It was the cause of Christ; and it was
to assert the prerogative of the Mediator, as the
sole Head of his own church, to preserve the ordinances and institutions of grace in their simplicity,
to exhibit the gospel in its purity, and to transmit
God's testimony, in its truth and evidence, to posterity.  They suffered because their principles
were too unyielding for the ecclesiastical despotism of the times, and because they would not
compromise the truth, to gratify the caprice of a
licentious monarch and a bigoted priesthood, and
therefore they were stigmatized as wrong-headed




THE COVENANTERS.               53
zealots, who refused to yield obedience to the lawful powers.  "But wisdom  is justified  of her
children."  And though there are many, even
now-a-days, who seem inclined to regard them as
enthusiasts, whose religion consisted chiefly in
wrangling about modes and forms, while essentials were misunderstood or overlooked, yet the
veracious histories of the period in which they
lived and suffered can attest how holily and unblamably  they conducted  themselves, "in  the
midst of a crooked and perverse nation." The
religious doctrines which these men maintained
are detailed in the Bible, and the perfect sincerity
of their belief of these doctrines is evinced, not
only by the purity of their lives, but also by the
grievous sufferings which they voluntarily en.
dured.  The great proportion of these honoured
men were persons in the humbler walks of life,
and whose names, had it not been for the persecutions which they sustained, would never have
been heard of.
"They lived unknown,
Till persecution dragged them into fame,
And chased them up to heaven."
And now they are individuals whose names grace
the annals of the church of God in Scotland, who
live embalmed in the memory of posterity, and
who are had in remembrance before God.  And
let their memorial survive, and their ashes repose
in peace, till the morning of that momentous day,
when he for whose name they were counted worthy
to suffer reproach and buffeting, and the spoiling
of their goods, and death itself, shall publicly
honour them as his faithful witnesses in a tempo
5*




54               TRADITIONS OF
rizing and a backsliding age.  It is not they
whom men honour, but they whom God honours,
that are truly noble.
On one occasion when Clavers and his men
were scouring the west, they descended on the
range of hills that stretch from Afton to the east.
Reports had reached them that parties of the covenanters were skulking among the hills, and they
determined to search them  out.  No news was
more gratifying to the cavaliers of those days,
than to hear of any thing that might afford them
employment in the way of their profession, in
chasing and shooting those godly men, who, for'.onscience' sake, had abandoned every thing that
was dear to them in this world.  Nothing was too
adventurous for the troopers, either in moss or on
mountain, when once they were fairly engaged,
and warmed in the pursuit. And strange stories
are told of these reckless and graceless men, in
reference to their daring and hazardous feats.  A
number of the worthies, it would appear, had concealed themselves in a retreat near the source of
the Afton, and Clavers, having been informed of
the circumstance, marched with his troopers at
his back to surprise them in their hiding-place.
His approach, however, was observed; for in
those days of peril men had a kind of presentiment of coming danger.  They were constantly
o i the watch, night and day, and rarely did anything of a suspicious nature escape their observation.  Their senses of sight and hearing seemed to
be sharpened and improved by incessant use, in
circumstances in which their life depended on
their vigorous  exercise.  Even in sleep they
seemed to be watching, and at every interval in
their broken slumbers they listened; they never




TIE COVENANTERS.                55
felt themselves entirely secure, unless it were in
the howling storm or when the drifted snow had
almost buried the lonely shieling that afbfrded
them shelter.
In their raid, the troopers had surprised at least
one individual, whom  they pursued across the
mountains.  The poor man fled for his life, and
hasted over hill and hollow, straight in the direction of Cruffell. The horsemen were not able to
follow him with the same speed as on even ground,
for sometimes an impassable morass would all at
once intercept their progress, when it was necessary to make a long sweep to the right, or to the
left, to avoid it. At other times the deep rocky
channel of the torrent forbade their advance, and
again the abrupt face of an interposing mountain
forced them to adopt a circuitous route.  All these
obstacles favoured the escape of the fugitive, who
gained both breath and space, and was therefore
enabled to preserve a safe distance in advance of
his pursuers. In this way, he held on his successful flight till he passed what are called the
reeves of Cruffell. The reeves are folds erected
by the shepherds, for the management of their
sheep, at certain seasons of the year. It happened
to be that season which, among shepherds, is called
clipping time, when the fleece is carefully and
neatly shorn from the back of the sheep.  At this
work of clipping, there were no fewer than nine
men busily employed within the folds of Cruffell,
while a young lad was stationed at the opening
for the purpose of assisting the shearers.  At the
moment when the poor man, who was fleeing for
his life, passed the reeves, nobody observed him
but the assistant shepherd at the door of the fold;
for the others being seated in a bending posture




56              TRADITIONS OF
within the ring, could not so easily perceive what
was passing without. In a short time the party
in pursuit came up, and, approaching the reeves,
asked the shepherds if they had seen the man of
whom they were in quest?  They declared they
had not. This asseveration did not satisfy the
stern and suspicious commander, and he proceeded
to put them one by one to their oath.  The men
could honestly assert, and they could as honestly
swear, in the presence of the great God, the
Searcher of hearts and the Judge of all the earth,
that they had not seen the individual mentioned.
But there was one who had seen him, and who
could have put them on the track in which he had
gone. It happened, however, that this one person was the only individual of the company of
whom they took no notice, and to whom they put
no questions; and he had no inclination to reveal
gratuitously a secret which neither bribery nor
threatenings could otherwise have extorted. The
party, therefore, having satisfied themselves that
the man was not concealed about the folds, and
that the shepherds knew nothing of him, yielded
the chase.  We cannot sufficiently admire the
many providential interferences in behalf of the
Lord's people, in the day of their distress.  Had
the young man at the folds been interrogated, and
forced to reveal what he had seen, there is every
likelihood that the fugitive would have been overtaken, especially as his strength must have, by
this time, been greatly exhausted.
In the meantime the man pursued his way up
the little glen through which runs the brook called
Cruffel burn, and held his course for the valley of
the Scar;-and so ", the race is not to the swift
nor the battle to the strong," else this worthy




THE COVENANTERS.              57
man would have been overpowered.  If David, on
the day that the Lord delivered him from the hand
of all his enemies, had occasion to say, " It is God
that girdeth me with strength, and maketh my way
perfect; he maketh my feet like hinds' feet, he
setteth me upon my high places;" surely this
same individual, who was chased like a roe on
the mountains, but whose " feet and ankle bones
received strength" to bear him away before the
face of his pursuers, had as good reason to ascribe praise to God for the means of his deliverance. There is no doubt that the mouth of this
pious man would be filled with grateful acknowledgments to God; while, on the other hand, the
mouths of his persecutors would be full of bitter
execrations.
It was within the vale of the Scar that this
helpless wanderer found, for a season, a restingplace from the weariness of his flight, after a day
of toil and solicitude. Tradition does not say at
whose hearth he found a welcome, but the house.
hold that received him admitted one who brought
his blessing along with him. The romantic localities of the Scar were not unknown to the covenanters, and its secluded glens were frequently
occupied with the interdicted conventicle, even in
the depth of winter, when the congregation sat
contentedly on the cold  snow, listening to the
words of eternal life.  These were times of peril
and self-denial, when men followed Christ for his
own sake.  " If a man will come after me, let
him take up his cross and follow me." The old
people in the place had a tradition, that these
devoted men, when they durst not meet in any
house for social prayer, an exercise in which they
greatly delighted, assembled in a hollow place, at




58              TRADITIONS OF
the foot of the crag of Hallscar, were without in.,
terruption they could call on the name of the
Lord, and, by mutual intercourse, strengthen one
another's hands in the work of truth and righteousness.  4 They that feared the Lord spake
often one to another: and the Lord hearkened,
and heard it, and a book of remembrance was
written before him for them that feared the Lord,
and that thought upon his name.  And they shall
be mine, saith the Lord, in that day when I make
up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man
spareth his own son that serveth him."  When,
therefore, our worthy descended into the valley
for shelter, he came among friends, and met a
people who espoused the cause in which he was
suffering, and were therefore ready to afford him
the succour which he needed.
The Scar was a place of refige in the times of
persecution to the two brothers of Ker of Kersland, a gentleman that suffered much in those
trying days.  He was a man of great worth and
integrity, and submitted to imprisonment and banishment, and the forfeiture of his property, that he
might maintain a good conscience, and he at last
died in a foreign land. The two brothers of Kersland, Archibald and Andrew, were embarked in
the same cause with himself, and suffered accordingly.  In seeking a place of retreat arnong the
wilder parts of the south, they came into the secluded valley of the Scar, and there took up their
abode.  The place to which they first came was
the Shiel, at that time a farm house in the immediate neighbourhood of the stupendous rock called
Glenquhargen Craig. Here they lived some years
in the capacity of shepherds, not thinking themselves degraded in following any servile occupa



THE COVENANTERS.              59
tion to gain an honest livelihood. The circumstances in which they had been brought up were
very different from  this, yet they submitted with
thankful hearts to the lot which Providence in the
days of trial had assigned them.  They were
both young men below twenty years of age when
they came to the south, under the pressure of the
persecution to which they were exposed.  Shortly
after they came to the Shiel, their brother of
Kersland spent a whole winter with them. This
was after the burning of Glasgow jail, in which
he happened to be confined at the time.  " The
well affected people of the town," says his biographer, " got long ladders, set the prisoners free,
and Kersland among the rest, after he had been
eight years in confinement.  After the hurry was
over, he inclined to surrender himself, but hearing
from his lady of the Archbishop's design against
him, he retired and absconded during that winter."
The winter alluded to was the one he lived with
his brothers in the seclusion of Scar Water, the
tradition respecting which circumstance is still
fresh in the memory of their descendants. Conventicles were frequently kept in Scar Water, by
means of the Kers, and other worthies who asso.
ciated with them. The fugitives then who sought
refuge in this retired valley, could not want friends
who would gladly open their doors to receive
them.  The two Kers, by means of their good behaviour and industry, became persons of some
consequence in the place of their retreat, and
ultimately rose to great respectability.  From
being shepherds, they became farmers.  Andrew
rented the farm of Shiel, and Archibald that of
Woodend, a few miles further down the stream.
This, however, must have been after the Revolu




60              TRADITIONS OF
tion, as it is not likely that two men of their prin.
ciples, could, during the heat of the persecution,
establish themselves as farmers in a district thal
was under so strict a supervision.  Andrew died
in the Shiel, it is supposed, about the year 1740,
and his brother Archibald a good while prior to
this date.  When Andrew  was buried in the
church-yard of Penpont, the minister of the parish, who was present, said, " There lies the precious dust of one who was counted worthy to
suffer for the cause of Christ."  The descendants
of the Kers are to be found in Sanquhar, Penpont,
and Muirkirk.
It may not be without its interest, perhaps, to
give here a brief description of some of the places
in which the worthies secreted themselves. The
dwelling-house of Glenglas, near the source of the
Yochan, is said to have been partly constructed
for the purpose of affording a hiding-place to the
destitute covenanters. At the one end it had a
double gable, the one wall at the distance of a few
feet from the other, leaving a considerable space
between, extending the whole breadth of the building.  This narrow  apartment was without windows, unless it might be a small sky-light from
the roof.  The entrance to this asylum was not
by a door, but by a small square aperture in the
inner wall, called by the country people a bole.
This opening was generally filled with the " big
Ha' Bible," and other books commonly perused
by the household.  When instant danger was
dreaded, or when it was known that the dragoons
were out, this chamber was immediately resorted
to by those who had reason to be apprehensive of
their safety. The books in the bole were removed
till the individual crept into the interior, and then




THE COVENANTERS.               61
they were carefully replaced, in such a way as to
lead to no suspicion. Like the prophet's chamber
in the wall, this place could admit " a bed, and a
table, and a stool, and a candlestick," and in the
cold of winter it had a sufficiency of heat imparted
to it by means of the large fire that blazed continually close by the inner wall. In this situation,
a person could easily have been secreted for days
and weeks, had it been necessary, while his food
was stealthily conveyed through the bole.  A
more simple and perfect contrivance can scarcely
be imagined, and one only wonders that it was
not more frequenly adopted where it was practi.
cable. In this way, the head of a family might
have lived at home, in comparative security, even
though closely watched by his enemies.
There is, in the midst of an extensive moor,
about two miles to the west of Sanquhar, a romantic spot, called " Pamphy Lins," which is
supposed to have been occasionally frequented in
the troublous times of our witnessing ancestors.
It is a very striking scene, and so little indication
is there of the existence of such a fairy nook, that
no person in passing through the heathy tracts, in
its close vicinity, could ever imagine that any
thing remarkable was to be met with.  And yet
there is hidden below the general level of the
mossy plain a spot of real enchantment; for some
of the finest points of Scottish scenery, as a celebrated writer remarks, escape the eye of the pass.
ing traveller. Two gurgling streamlets, that issue
in crystal purity from  the hills in the background, meet together, and, immediately above
the point of their junction, they have worn their
troubled channel to a great depth, and by the erosion of their waters have formed spacious cavities
6




62              TRADITIONS OF
in the sandy rocks that rear themselves to a great
height on either bank. The semicircular bend
of one of these cavities is, at its base, perhaps
fifty or sixty feet, and the sweep of the arch, from
the lowest part behind, along the roof of the cave
to its opening above the stream, is in proportion;
and to the eye of the spectator, crouching under
the extreme part of the rocky recess, the rounded
mouth of the cave where it meets the sky, has the
appearance of a majestic rainbow.  On the other
part of the lin, where the torrent rushes down a
craggy declivity of great height, the rocks are so
fearfully excavated as to shoot far over head in a
horizontal position, threatening an instantaneous
fall, and apparently upheld by nothing but the
hand of Omnipotence.  These gloomy excavations have been formed in ages long gone by, and
in one place the rivulet seems to have been almost
wholly arched over, forming an immense caldron
of dark and deep waters, boiling and eddying in
the profound beneath. The superincumbent mass
has, in some places, tumbled down, and is lying
in scattered fragments, like the broken arches and
colonnades of some magnificent temple. A place
like this, even among the splendid scenery of the
mountains, could not pass without admiration;
but when it is met with in the heart of an uninter.
esting moor, it is like an oasis in the desert.  It
does not appear, however, that the Pamphy lins,
supposing them a resort of the persecuted adherents of the covenant, were so much a place of
security from their enemies as of shelter from the
tempest. Every hole and crevice in the locality
is discoverable on the first inspection, so that no
individual could possibly effect a sufficient concealment; but then, as a place of protection from




THE COVENANTERS.                63
the wind and the rain, to which these houseless
wanderers were so often exposed, it would be
eagerly sought.
Among the curious hiding-places to which the
worthies resorted, the cave of Garrick Fell is not
the least interesting.  Garrick Fell is a hill in the
parish of Closeburn, in Nithsdale, and lies to the
east of the ancient parish of Durrisdeer, famous
for its Roman antiquities, and more famous still
as the scene of Christian martyrdom.  The cave
of Garrick Fell was known to only a very few;
and so complete is its seclusion, that even now
the shepherds who daily traverse the locality in
which it is situated, cannot discover its entrance.
It is likely, however, that the rocks and loose
stones have of late fallen down, and closed the
aperture, as a worthy man, who died a few years
ago, was well acquainted with it in his younger
days.  It was in this cave, as tradition affirms,
that Peden occasionally concealed himself; and a
story of some interest is told of him connected
with it.  The house of Gilchristland Shiel, in
Closeburn, it appears, was frequently visited by
this zealous and unwearied preacher.  Under its
hospitable roof he many times rested and was refieshed, after his exhaustion and watchings among
the mountains. The providence of that God who
watches over all, and especially over those who
trust in him  and do his work, furnished for his
servants, who in those times of trial had left all
for his truth's sake, even in the remotest solitudes,
a friendly abode in which the kindest treatment
was experienced. These places of rest and entertainment, like the inns which every where meet
the wayfaring man, were more numerous than
we are at first ready to imagine. Every glen, and




64              TRADITIONS OF
moor, and hill, and forest, had its hut, whose door
was ever open for the reception of those who were
scattered abroad by persecution. There is to be
met with, in the pastoral districts, a hospitality to
which inhabitants of towns are in a great measure
strangers. There is an honest kindness of heart
unostentatiously displayed by the ruder occupants
of the desert, which may well put to shame the
more ceremonious politeness of the urbane part of
the community.  The hospitality of these days,
however, was not simply that of a natural benevolence, or merely conventional custom,-it was the
hospitality of principle, it was beneficent treatment for Christ's sake; for they looked on the
men who bespoke their sympathy as sufferers,
especially in the cause of the gospel.
Mr. Peden, during his temporary residence at
Gilchristland Shiel, was not idle, for as this pious
household failed not to minister to him in temporal things, he did not fail to minister to them in
spiritual things. To minister in the gospel was
his work and his delight, and for the truth's sake
he endured the loss of all things, and subjected
himself to hardships of every description.  One
day he was engaged in his spiritual vocation, expounding the Scriptures to the family, and probably to a few of the neighbours met with them.
He enlarged on the precious truths of the gospel,
and his little audience were intent on the weighty
matters presented to their notice, and were happy
in listening to the joyful sound. They were assembled in a retreat where little danger was anticipated, and therefore, without much  anxiety
about their safety, they gave their minds entirely
to the religious exercise in which they were employed.  The apparent eagerness with which this




THE COVENANTERS,              65
little flock in the wilderness received the doctrine
of Christ, filled the breast of the preacher with a
heavenly satisfaction, and imparted a holier earnestness to his address. To the man whose great
object is to win souls to Christ, nothing is more
gladdening than to witness the truth taking effect
on those to whom it is propounded. And in what
blessed circumstances must that company of worshippers be, on whom the Spirit in his saving influences has descended, softening the heart, and
uniting the soul to Christ, in a relation never to
be dissolved!
As Mr. Peden and his company were thus engaged, a sound like the wailing of an infant, and
then like the soft bleating of a sheep, was heard
not far from the house.  Nobody took notice of
it, nor was it necessary, as every one knew what
it was. In a little the same sound was heard
again, but in rather a stronger tone.  No one
stirred. At last the sound was heard, with startling violence, close at the door, and then louder
still within the door, and so impatiently incessant,
that the shepherd rose to drive away the intruder
that had come so unseasonably to disturb their serious thoughts. It was a large sheep, that, without
any apparent cause, sought on a fine day, when the
rest of the flock were grazing tranquilly on the
bent, shelter about the door.  The shepherd in.
stantly turned it out to the heath, and, following
it a short distance from the house, discovered, to
his surprise, a party of moss-troopers advancing
in the direction of his cottage. All within was
consternation, and the poor sheep, whose obtrusive
bleatings were considered as a special annoyance,
was now regarded as a harbinger of mercy, sent
to warn them of their approaching danger. What6*




66              TRADITIONS OF
ever cause may be assigned for the visit of the
poor animal on this occasion, it is obvious that
Providence made use of it as a means of rescue to
the equally helpless sheep of his fold, who were
convened within.  The Lord is never at a loss for
instruments, when he has work to perform, or deliverances to accomplish, " for all are his servants."
The meeting was instantly dispersed, and Mr.
Peden hastened to the cave of Garrick Fell. The
dragoons, disappointed in their object, returned
without perpetrating any act of violence, and the
honest shepherd and his household gave thanks
to him who had provided for them a feast of good
things in the wilderness, and who had not permitted the enemy to mingle their blood with their
sacrifice. Their spiritual meal was sweet, and
sweet also was the deliverance vouchsafed. Meanwhile, the venerable servant of God reached his
cavern  in safety, and  there praised  and honoured him who had added this one deliverance
more to the many formerly experienced.  This
cave, the roof of which was the superincumbent
mass of the mighty mountain, was capable of accommodating with ease several persons at once.
Its entrance, which was narrow, was concealed
by a special provision of nature: a large bush of
heather growing from  the turf on the upper part
of the aperture, and spreading downwards like a
thick vail, covered the upper half of the opening;
and the lower part was screened by a green braken bush, which, springing from  the bottom,
spread itself like a feathery fan, till it met the
pendent heather, and then the two, like the folding-doors of an inner chamber, closed the entrance in such a way that no individual in passing




THE COVENANTERS.               67
could possibly recognise the existence of any such
place, however near he might approach it. What
a slender barrier sometimes serves as a complete
protection to those whom Providence would shield
from harm! Here the good man was as safe in
God's keeping as if he had been encompassed by
the impenetrable walls of the solid mountain; and
his enemies might pass and repass full in his view,
without the slightest suspicion on their part that
he was actually within their reach.  It is easy to
conceive the state of mind with which Mr. Peden
must have looked through the heathery curtain
which formed the door of his cell, on those who
sought his life, as they marched in order immediately before his face, noticing their menacing
aspect, hearing their angry words, and observing
at leisure the deadly weapons which were prepared for his destruction. The feelings of a person in this situation must be somewhat akin to
those of the man who, from his well-sheltered and
comfortable chamber, contemplates the storm as
it rages without. The cave of Garrick Fell might
be cold and damp-still it was not cheerless, for
God was there, and its occupant enjoyed both personal security and peace of mind.  We need not
be afraid of suffering for Christ's sake; for in proportion to our outward afflictions is our inward
consolation: " As thy day is, so shall thy strength
be."  Some of those who outlived the long period
of the church's distress in Scotland, declared, in
testimony of their Master's kindness to them in the
days of their trial, that the happiest season of their
life was the season of their persecution.
In the parish of Muirkirk, on its western confines, where it borders with the Sorn, there is a
place of a similar description, and used in former




68               TRADITIONS OF
times for a similar purpose.  Pennelburn cave
was a house of refuge to many of those sufferers
who fled to the dens and caves of the earth from
the face of their destroyers.  Its entrance is very
narrow, admitting of one person only at a time,
and that in a stooping or rather in a creeping pos.'ure. Immediately within, however, the roof rises
to the height of a man, the cavern admitting with
ease two persons to walk abreast, and stretching
along to the distance of probably thirty feet.  Its
roof is beautifully ribbed with alternate layers of
stone and fine sand.  This retreat could easily be
defended from intruders, and it could as easily be
made the grave of its refugees.  Doubtless many
an earnest supplication has ascended from its dark
recess, on the wings of faith, to the throne of Himn
who hears the groaning of the prisoner in the for.
lorn and suffering abodes of humanity.
On other occasions, these persecuted ones with.
drew to the heart of the impassable morass, and
concealed themselves behind the shelter of some
deep moss hag.  And were it not that in such a
place there is no protection from  the storm, unless under the excavated covert of the wet peat.
ground, no spot could have afforded greater security, as the dragoons durst not venture to pursue
on horseback, and their firing, on account of the
great distance, could take no effect.  This passing
notice of some of the hiding-places to which they
betook themselves, shows to what straits these ex.
cellent men were reduced, and how severely they
were treated by those who would tolerate neither
their principles nor their lives.  Their afflictions
and their wanderings, however, have long since
ended; and they have come out of all their great
and diversified tribulations, and are now reposing




THE COVENANTERS.              69
in a building of God, a house not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens.  " Therefore are
they before the throne of God, and serve him day
and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on
the throne shall dwell among them.  They shall
hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither
shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.  For
the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall
feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of water; and God shall wipe away all
tears from  their eyes."  The retrospect of the
distressful circumstances in which, when on earth,
they were placed, must tend to heighten their enjoyment of the heavenly rest; and the consideration of their having once been houseless wanderers in fhe solitary places of the earth, will enable
them to prize the more highly the place they iow
occupy in the blessed paradise of God.
CHAPTER V.
Campbell of Lochbruin-William Good
"To the left, Jardine," vociferated the cammander of a small party of dragoons that were wending their way up tie defile of the Afton;   bid
the troopers turn to the left; I expect to start
some game on that hill side; and I am mistaken
if I do not already discern the head of a goodly
black cock peeping out from among the heather
yonder."  4 It is the top stone of the gray cairn
peering over the intervening height that you s^o,




70               TRADITIONS OF
sir," replied the soldier; " and besides, that hill
is so steep that our heavy horses will not be able
to master the ascent.  Would it not be better to
lead off to the right where the ground is easy, and
fiom which, at a short distance above us, we could
command a full view of the opposite mountain,
and easily ascertain if any thing is stirring?"
" But Jardine, suppose your well meant blundering should lead us off the scent again, when shall
we succeed in ridding the neighbourhood of these
wily rebels, and secure to ourselves a retreat from
this inhospitable wilderness?"  " I submit to you,
sir, and shall be the first, if you command it, to
climb the steepest brow of that mountain, either
on foot or on horseback, in the rough service on
which we are commissioned."  " Then, Jardine,
we will wait a moment here till you take a survey from the elevation on the right, and then we
shall proceed in the way that may seem best."
This colloquy is assumed for the purpose of noticing a circumstance of no uncommon occurrence in the period to which these gleanings refer.
It is now ascertained that not a few individuals
who were friendly to the covenanters, if they were
not entirely identified with them, enlisted in the
royal forces for the express purpose of defeating,
as far as lay in their power, the designs of the
enemy, and of giving warning, where it was practicable, to the persecuted.  It is in this way that
we account, for the generous conduct of the dra
goon who accompanied his party on search to the
house of a pious man, William Steel of Lesnma.
hago, whom  his wife, on the appearance of the
soldiers, had hastily concealed in a clothes-press.
When the  troopers, being  unsuccessful, were
gone, and at a short distance from the place, the




THE COVENANTERS.               71
dragoon ran back to the house, and said to the
goodwife, poiniing to the place of her husband's
concealment, "Mistress, next time you hide be
more wary; part of your husband's coat is locked
without the press."
On the other hand, it is notorious that, on the
part of the malignants, "informers were numerously employed, and scattered up and down the
country, for the express purpose of discovering the
resorts of the covenanters.  These spies sometimes mingled with the people, professing themselves to be their zealous friends; sometimes they
went through in the character of travelling merchants, and sometimes they assumed the garb of
shepherds, that they might thus conceal their true
character, and therefore be admitted more freely
into the designs of the covenanters.  Sharp, archbishop of St. Andrews, had multitudes of these in
his pay scattered over the country." The infamous purposes of these perfidious persons, if they
were not defeated, were at least, in some measure,
balanced and counterplotted  by  means of the
friendly individuals who had here and there crept
into the ranks of the soldiery.  How far the conduct of these well-wishers of an oppressed peasantry is to be justified or condemned, is left to casuists to decide, only it is obvious that as Hushai
the Archite served David in defeating the counsel
of Ahithophel, when, by the king's advice, he pretended to be Absalom's friend; so, by means of
these men, were the plans of the enemy sometimes successfully counteracted.  These remarks
may help to account for the occasional failures, in
circumstances where failure was least to be expected, of the attempts of their enemies to cir



72              TRADITIONS OF
cumvent, in those suffering times, the people of
God.
The village of New Cumnock is pleasantly situated on the banks of the Nith, a short way from
its source, and about twelve miles to the west of
Sanquhar.  It stands at the head of a beautiful
plain, through which the river pursues its serpentine course with many a graceful sweep, resembling, as has often been observed by travellers,
the links of the Forth at Stirling, though on a
much smaller scale.. Each side of the stream below the village is walled in by a chain of mountains extending many miles in an easterly direction. The range on the south side appears to be
the eastern spur of the Montes Uxellum of Richard,
which formed the line of demarcation between the
ancient Novantes and the Damnii. The line of
mountains on the north, commencing with the
green-clad hill of Corsancone, is supposed to form
the western extremity of Ettrick forest; and this
supposition seems to receive countenance from the
fact that the name Ettrick is occasionally to be
met with in the chain, as Loch Ettrick, Ettrick
Stane.
It appears that the district round New Cumnock was a field much frequented by our suffering
ancestors.  It was in their days in a much wilder
state than it is now, and afforded in its woody
coverts a comparatively safe retreat from their
pursuers.  The stream of the Afton issues fiom
among the dusky mountains on the south, and
mingles with the Nith near the village.  The
grandeur of its scenery is the boast of the people
of the neighbourhood; and it was in its deep recesses, and among its rugged and inaccessible
steeps, when the church was driven to the wilder.




THE COVENANTERS.               73
ness, that many a faithful witness for God's truth,
and for Christ's kingly supremacy, sought a refuge.  And far fiom the dwellings of men, the
hawk and the erne were their companions, the
cranberries gathered  among the heather were
occasionally their food, and the dark moss water
their drink. " They wandered in the wilderness,
in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in;
hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them;
then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them out of their distresses."
Lochbruin is situated on the east side of the
Afton towards the mountains, and the hill in its
immediate vicinity bearing the same name is on
the top full of deep moss hags, and presenting a
most uninteresting appearance.  To the south lies
Cairnsmoor, a mountain of Alpine grandeur, at
whose rocky base, in the farm  of Knochengar.
roch, is a cave which in former times was resorted to by the wanderers; and where, on account of the difficulty of finding its entrance, they
were lodged in almost complete security. In tra.
versing the wilder parts of the country, and observing the many secret places that seem  so
entirely adapted to the purposes of concealment
and refuge, one can scarcely help entertaining the
idea that the great Author of nature, when he
made the world, formed by anticipation these
abodes of secrecy, that in after ages ", the earth
might help the woman" when, in times of persecution, sne should be obliged to " flee into the wilderness where she had a place prepared of God."
And there is little reason to suppose, had it not
been for those informers with whom the " camp
of the saints" was infested, that ever their enemies
would have discovered their retreats, especially in
7




74              TRADITIONS OF
the more dreary and desolate localities. But the
spirit of evil prompted them to the work of spoliation and death; and so accustomed were the dragoons to scour moss and hill, that it became to
them  an employment of great excitement, and
they followed it with as keen a relish as ever
sportsman followed his game.  The pleasure,
however, which they derived from this pastime
was not without its abatements, for not a few of
them occasionally lost their lives in various ways.
Some plunged into the deep morass, in which man
and horse sunk never to emerge; others were
killed in falling down the rocky precipice; others
were carried away by the roaring flood; while
others again were shot by the oppressed party in
self-defence.
Lochbruin was the residence of a devoted cove.
nanter of the name of Campbell, a good man,
whose care was to live to God, and  to follow
Christ when his cause was tried.  During the
persecuting period a man's religion was tried to
the uttermost, and his sincerity fairly put to the
test by means of those afflictions to which he was
subjected for the truth's sake.  A hypocrite had
no inducement to connect himself with a suffering
remnant, because neither name nor profit was to
be reaped from the adoption of their profession.
On the contrary, scorn and poverty and death
were to be expected as the portion of all who
identified themselves with their cause.  By the
grace of him  whom  they honoured, however,
these holy men were enabled to live above the
world, and to despise alike its favour and its
frowns, for the sake of him  whose credit and
whose interests lay nearer their hearts than all
earthly considerations together.  The love of




THE COVENANTERSe                 75
Christ constrained them, so that they counted not
their own lives dear unto them that they might
maintain that faith which was once delivered unto
the saints, and propagate that truth which had
been intrusted to them.  Their maxim was, that
they  would rather suffer themselves, than that
the interests of true religion should  suffer by
them.
As the farmer of Lochbruin was one day at
home, and enjoying himself in the midst of his
family, a luxury which in those precarious times
was but rarely tasted, and dreading no immediate
danger, a young man belonging to the household
burst into his master's apartment with the inforo
mation that the dragoons were in sight.  All was
consternation.  The merciless enemy, that spared
no age nor sex, was at hand; and a happy and
harmless family might in a few minutes present
an appalling scene of havoc and desolation. What
was to be done'!  Every one knew that the interests of the household depended on the safety of
its master; and, therefore, instant flight or concealment was the first consideration.  Flight was
determined  on, as being  the preferable alternative in the present circumstances; and Camp.
bell hastened to reach the height above his dwelling before the troopers should get within shot of
him.  "' To the Nypes," cried the commander of
the party, " 1 see the old bird has flown, and is
soaring toward the  highest eminence."   The
Nypes is a. lofty ridge that rises above Lochbruin,
and it was in this direction that Campbell was
fleeing when first observed by the soldiers.  A
vigorous pursuit commenced.  The dragoons ascended the steep with all the speed their heavy
horses could make; and ere they reached the




76             TRADITIONS OF
summit that spreads out into a wide mossy platform, Campbell was a good way in advance dashing through the long heather, and wading the
smeary peat-ground till his strength was nearly
exhausted.  His pursuers were gaining ground;
and, seeing it was in vain to contend, he resolved
to conceal himself, if possible, in the heath, and
there to leave himself in the hand of Providence.
Having, therefore, reached a place in the moor,
the inequality of which screened him from the
view of the troopers, he plunged into a deep and
narrow trench in the moss, the sides of which
were skirted with thick bushy heather which
nearly covered the opening above. Here he lay
flat on his back looking up to the sky, which was
little more than visible through the shaggy coverlet that waved above him.  The heavy tramping
of the cavalcade approaching was distinctly heard,
till at length a tremulous motion imparted to the
yielding turf announced their immediate presence.
Then one spring, and another, and another, till
the whole party leapt over, while he distinctly recognised the bright shoes on the feet of their
horses, and the long scabbards dangling by their
side. He lay with a palpitating heart till their
sound died away in the distance, and then he ventured to look up, and saw his deliverance complete. The Lord, in whom this good man trusted,
did not desert him in the evil day, but wrought
for him a deliverance in the very presence of his
foes, and hid him as in a grave till the storm
rushed past and left serenity behind. " Keep me
as the apple of the eye; hide me under the shadow of thy wings from the wicked that oppress
me, from my deadly enemies who compass me
about."  This humble man literally laid his body




THE COVENANTERS.                77
in the dust till his oppressors past over him, without being permitted to trample on him; and then
the Lord, the lifter up of his head, gave him once
more his life for a prey.  His enemies "comn
passed him in his steps, they set their eyes bowing
down to the earth; but the Lord  disappointed
them, and delivered his soul from  the wicked."
We are ready to say, surely this man must have
been very thankful for this wonderful rescue; and
who can doubt it?  These men knew well how to
appreciate every providential interference in their
behalf; but ought we not to be as thankful, nay
much more thankful, when we reflect that we live
in times when we enjoy an exemption from  all
sufferings and hazard whatever on account of our
religious sentiments?      The lines are fallen unto
us in pleasant places; yea, we have a goodly
heritage."  We may profess what form  of religion we choose without the fear of being dragooned into the profession of an opposite form.
This exemption is the precious inheritance which
our excellent forefathers have handed down to us;
and it is the fruit of their strivings, and perils, and
sufferings unto  the death.  For it was not for
themselves only that they strove, it was also for
the benefit of succeeding generations, whose spiritual welfare was with them a matter of no infe.
rior moment.  Let us, then, maintain this liberty
wherewith Christ has made us free, and transmit
it to the race that is to come.  Our religious pri.
vileges are highly to be estimated, and the best
way in which we can show our estimation of them
is by a cordial reception of the truth as it is in
Jesus.  All our wrangling about external privileges, valuable as these privileges may be, will
not avail us unless we become sincere believers in
7t




78              TRADITIONS OF
Christ; and the offer of salvation is made to every
man in the gospel, and happy is he who receives
the offlr.  All, without exception, are warranted
to accept of heaven's greatest and richest boon,
the Lord Jesus Christ; and all who accept it are
saved.  Many, in struggling for their civil and
religious rights, have in the bustle lost their souls,
because, in the din of the strife, they forgot
the main thing; but the worthy men who, in a
former age, contended valiantly for the truth, felt,
at the  same time, the saving power of that
truth.
Not far from Lochbruin, on the west side of
the Afton, lived William  Good, another eminent
Christian.  This man was also a covenanter, and
an individual whose ruin was Lherefore determined
on. His place of residence was Little Mark Lane,
in the immediate vicinity of Dalegles or Daleccles,
which literally signifies Kirkland, and which designation plainly intimates that there existed in
this neighbourhood in ancient times a place of
worship.  The name is Celtic, and clearly shows
that the worship of God was observed here long
prior to the Saxon period.  It appears from the
earlier records of the country that St. Columba,
who lived in the sixth century, was especially
successful in spreading the gospel throughout the
west of Scotland; and that his preachers had
there established themselves in many places which
to this day bear their name.  This holy and devoted man was a native of Ireland, and of royal
descent. " He was educated under St. Caran, and
other Irish bishops. After founding some monasteries in Ireland, zeal for the propagation of
Christianity induced him to leave his country and
pass over into Britain. The southern parts being




THE COVENANTERS.               79
converted, he came, as Bede informs us, to preach
the word of God in the provinces of the northern
parts.  He arrived at the time when Bridius, a
most powerful king, reigned over the Picts, and
in the ninth year of his reign; and converted that
nation to the faith of Christ by his preaching and
example.  He was attended by twelve companions, and founded the monastery, or college, of
Iona; a very different society fiorn  the later
monkish institutions. For, although they had a
certain rule, and might deem certain religious regulations necessary for the preservation of order,
their great design was by communicating instruction to train up others for the work of the ministry. Those societies which sprung from them
became the seminaries of the church of Scotland.
They lived, says Bede, after the example of the
venerable fathers, by the labour of their own
hands." There is every likelihood, then, that the
church to which the lands of Dalegles belonged
was originally erected by the followers of Columba; and that the true gospel was preached
among the ancient Celtic people who inhabited
this district, and who have left behind them, in
the name of the place, a memorial of their piety.
One dwells with pleasure on the reflection, that
the rude people of forgotten ages, who inhabited
these upland wastes, were visited with the message of grace, and were subdued and sanctified by
the pacific and purifying doctrines of the glorious
gospel.
William  Good, and his wife Anne Campbell,
lived together as heirs of the grace of life, and
were fellow-helpers to the truth. Their lot had
fallen on evil days, and therefore they did not expect to live without molestation; and hence they




80              TRADITIONS OF
were thankful for any short interval of repose
with which Providence might be pleased to favour
them.  They lived with death before their eyes;
for every day brought a report from some quarter
that a faithful witness for the truth had lost his
life by the hand of the enemy; and, therefore,
they  looked upon themselves more and more
every hour in the light of strangers and pilgrims
-in the earth.  Persons in this situation must experience an abstraction of mind from  earthly
interests, and an approximation of soul to that
heaven to which they are journeying, which is
but seldom and faintly realized by those who are
at ease, and who inherit the peaceable days of
Zion's prosperity. But they who lived in times
of persecution, and had tribulation in the flesh,
were not wretched on that acccount; for, just in
proportion to their external troubles was their internal enjoyment of the peace of God.  " I will
not leave you comfortless: in the world ye shall
have tribulation, but in me ye shall have peace."
One day as William's wife, who was busy at
her domestic employment, happened incidentally
to step to the door, she observed in the distance a
company of horsemen coming apparently straight
to the house.  She at once guessed their errand,
and instantly informed her husband, who was
within.  She advised him to flee, but, on considering the matter, this was found to be impracticable, as the troopers were so near. He could
not leave the house without being observed, and
there was no place of safety to which he could
betake himself so near at hand as to be able to
reach it before the dragoons came up. If con.
cealment was to be attempted at all, it must be
somewhere within the house; and the hope of




THE COVENANTERS.               81
being successful in this endeavour was but slender,
considering the smallness of the dwelling. There
was no time, however, to delay; the enemy was
at hand, and life was sweet.  " But where shall I
abscond'" said he to his wife, whose concern for
his safety was extreme, " into what nook shall I
creep' I see no corner that can afford a hidingplace." "' The spence, guidman, the spence; run
to the spence." The spence was an apartment in
the older farm-houses of the country districts,
which was appropriated more especially to the
use of the family; and was of a somewhat genteeler description than the kitchen, which was
common to the servants.  It was to the spence,
then, that honest William Good betook himself, at
the suggestion of his wife, as being the only likely
place in the domicile where he might remain undiscovered. The spence, in the house of Little
Mark Lane, had for some time been converted into
a lumber closet, into which were crowded articles
of every kind that were unfit for use, or not immediately required.  Old chests, and barrels, and
chairs, and  pots, were  all huddled  together.
Among the trumpery that occupied the apartment, then, William Good hid himself, like Saul
of old, among the stuff; the one from his friends,
and the other from  his foes.  The door of the
spence opened on the kitchen, and the anxious
wife placed before it a ponderous stone trough
which stood near, and this prevented the door
from being easily opened, and, at the same time,
tended to lull suspicion. The walls of the kitchen, round and round, were of a sooty black,
japanned by the peat smoke of a century; and
the door of the antichamber being of the same
hue, the risk of discovery was less likely. Such




82              TRADITIONS OF
was the posture of affairs when the dragoons ap.
proached the house.  No sight was more appalling to the helpless peasantry than that of a gruff.
looking, swearing trooper, roughly clad, sunk to
the knees in large boots, with a grisly helmet on
his head, a  coarse  cloak  hanging  fiom  his
shoulders, and a huge cumbrous scabbard rattling on his heels.  These, for the most part,
were men of blood, who rioted in human sufferings, and to whom the wailings of humanity were
merriment.  A party of such men now stood in
the presence of the terror-stricken Anne Campbell, whose fears were more for her husband's
safety than for her own. In the midst of her fears,
however, she succeeded in maintaining an external
composure before her enemies, lest any apparent
trepidation on her part should beget a suspicion
that the object of their search was within reach.
It is wonderful to think how greatly the Lord's
people are strengthened in the day of trial, and
enabled to " gird up the loins of their mind."  It
was in the time of her greatest extremity, that the
wife of John Brown of Priesthill exhibited the
greatest moral heroism, to the astonishment and
confusion of her deadly foes. The farm-house of
Little Mark Lane underwent a strict and unsparing scrutiny; and barn, and stable, and cowhouse were all explored with as much keenness,
as if they expected to find some great and costly
treasure, on the possession of which their future
happiness was solely to depend. But, though they
sought, they found not. The sanctuary in which
the master of the house had taken refuge was left
inviolate.  They never imagined that there was
any such apartment within the premises; and
their eyes were holden that they did not see it.




THE COVENANTERS.              83
It sometimes happens, that we experience a deliverance from danger when we least expect it, and
that the evil which we dreaded is warded off in a
very surprising manner.  Almost every person
may remember some incident in his history illustrative of this remark; and proving that " man's
extremity is God's opportunity."  The party left
the abode of these good people, whom God cared
for, and sheltered by his power, under the impression that he of whom they were in quest was
not there.  When the danger was over, William
left the place of his concealment, mixed again
with his household, and received their gratulations
on account of the narrow escape which he had
made.  Every one applauded Anne for the manner in which she had secreted her husband, and
praised the contrivance to which the necessity of
the case had so promptly given birth.  If William
had bh'en seen at the door instead of his wife, his
doom  would have been sealed; as in that case
the dragoons would have been quite certain of
his being in the house, which they would not
have quitted till they had found him. But the
Providence that intended to deliver him ordered it
otherwise; and hid him from  the eyes of those
who were bent on his destruction.  It will surely
not be deemed out of keeping with the character
of this good man, to suppose that his gratitude on
this occasion bore some proportion to the greatness of his deliverance; and that his prayer to the
God of his life would be characterized with an increase of holy fervour, and of simplicity of confidence; and that his future life would be more sincerely and entirely devoted to the service of Him
who had graciously saved him from a violent and
cruel death. A grandson of William Good died




84              TRADITIONS OF
in Sanquhar about eighteen years ago, at a very
advanced age; and he was a son in every respect
worthy of such an ancestor.
CHAPTER VI.
Alexander Gray of Cambusnethan Mains-James Gray.
IN the catalogue of the Scottish martyrs, we are
not to include those only who suffered death by
the immediate hand of their persecutors. There
were many who died martyrs, whose blood stained
neither the heath nor the scaffold, but who lost
their lives owing to the many hardships to which
they were subjected, for their adherence to the
truth. Hunger and cold and fatigue, the buffetings
of the storm, and exposure in damp and dreary
caves, wore down the stoutest constitutions, and
superinduced diseases which brought multitudes
to a premature grave.  The numbers who died
by this means have not been accurately calculated, but they cannot be small; and many of
them being strangers in the locality where they
ended their days, must have been buried quietly
in the moors and wastes by those who were brethren and sufferers in the same common cause.
These worthies, as they belonged to the great
cloud of witnesses, who held the testimony of
Christ in the day of Scotland's tribulation, deserve
the honourable appellation of martyrs, for they
were really such in every sense, excepting that




THE COVENANTERS,                85
of a military or public execution. The traditions
respecting such individuals are not indeed so nuD
merous as those respecting the witnesses who
came to a more tragical end, but they are not the
less valuable, nor less deserving of record.  The
present chapter shall be occupied with a few
notices of two brothers of this class, of the name
of Gray, whose worth of character and steadfast.
ness of principle deserve remembrance.
Alexander Gray, the first of the brothers whom
we shall notice, was born in the parish of Camr
busnethan, where his parents long resided, and
where he lived till the period of his death, which
was near the close of the persecution. Tradition
has preserved but few particulars of his life; but
these, scanty as they are, are fully decisive of the
excellency of his character as a man of sincere
godliness.  He was warmly attached to the prin.
ciples of civil and religious liberty, for which the
covenanters so  nobly  and disinterestedly  con.
tended.
The district in which Alexander Gray lived
had produced many worthy Christians, and many
leal-hearted  patriots.  The upper and middle
wards of Lanarkshire were famous for the sup.
port of the covenants in the stirring times of the
second Charles; and many a brave heart poured
forth its best blood in behalf of a cause, for the
maintenance of which no sacrifice was deemed too
great.
Cambusnethan occupies a beautiful locality on
the Clyde, the vale of which, as a popular writer
remarks, " is soft, sunny, and fructiferous, and
one of the finest pieces of country that Scotland
can boast o0."  Cambusnethan house is an ele.
gant mansion, and stands a few miles above the
8




86              TRADITIONS OF
town of Hamilton, and almost in the centre of a
district of orchards and splendid villas.  It is second only to the princely castle of Mauldslee,
standing in a like position about two miles further
up the river, in the parish of Carluke. It was
near this latter place that Gavin Hamilton resided,
who suffered in 1666.  Cambusnethan has been
the scene of Christian martyrdom, for it was here
that Arthur Inglis was killed by the troopers,
when they found him sitting in the field reading
the word of God.  On the eastern boundary of
this parish, and at the junction of Clydesdale and
Lothian, is the famous Darmeid muir, where
many a conventicle was held by the worthies in
those suffering times; on which account, as Patrick Walker informs us, it got the name of the
", Kirk of Darmeid." It is a secluded spot, and
surrounded by high moorlands; so that a company of worshippers could remain long in its
secrecy without their being observed, and the
marshes and mosses contiguous to it would present an effectual barrier in the case of pursuit by
horsemen.  In this place Richard Cameron, on
his return from Holland in 1680, held a fast with
Cargill and Douglas; and here they agreed to
maintain more firmly the standard of the gospel,
in the face of the abounding defection of the
times.  This led to the Sanquhar declaration,
which was published in the midsummer of this
year. In 1683 Mr. Renwick commenced his ministerial work in Scotland on the same hallowed
spot, " taking up," as his biographer remarks,
" the testimony of the standard of Christ where it
had fallen, at the removal of the former witnesses, Messrs. Cameron and Cargill."
The following is a tradition respecting a con



THE COVENAINTERS.              87
venticle which met at Darngavel in Cainbusnethan.  When the assembly was engaged in worship, and raising aloft the voice of praise, the
melody, wafted by the breeze, was heard at Black.
hall, at the moment a trooper happened to call,
ill passing. The sound reached his ear, and excited his suspicion. The farmer, who was friendly
to the covenanters, and a man of humane disposition, made the following remark, "Whenever
my neighbour of Darngavel shears one of his
sheep, or takes aff ony twa o' his lambs, he sets
the hale flock a bleating." This seemed to satisfy
the dragoon, who departed without making farther
inquiries.
It was in Cambusnethan Mains that Alexander
Gray resided, in company with his brother James,
who rented the farm. This house was a rendezvous
to the covenanters, who in that part of the country
were obliged to wander from place to place; and
many a desolate sojourner found here a friendly
shelter and prompt assistance in the day of distress. The Mains of Cambusnethan was therefore
a noted house, a house equally well known to the
sufferers and to the dragoons; and many a visit
was paid by the latter, with a view to apprehend
those who had taken refuge under its roof. It is
worthy of remark, that the troopers were in no instance successfull in capturing any who resorted to
the place.  Gray and his friends, however, were
frequently in danger, and the utmost caution and
vigilance were necessary to avoid the snares that
were laid for them.
The laird of Cambusnethan, like many others of
his station in society at the time, sided with the
ruling party, it is said, and countenanced the op.
pressors of the people of God. The same thing




88              TRADITIONS OF
was done by the great majority of the gentry
throughout Scotland, in order to retain  their
worldly possessions, so that the laird inthis instance was not alone.  Many of them complied
more through necessity than inclination, and perhaps the laird of Cambusnethan was of this number. Those of them, however, who entered heartily into the cause of the persecutors, were a particular annoyance to the peasantry; and, co-operating with the curates, they Wrought no small havoc
in the church.  They acted the part of little tyrants in the different localities where they resided,
and were equally dreaded with persons of greater
influence.  Often did the laird sally out with the
full determination to seize Alexander Gray, dead
or alive. If professing Christians would show but
the tithe of that zeal in the service of God, that
the wicked manifest in the service of Satan, what
a different scene would soon present itself.  Believers in that case would be like a dew  from
the Lord in the midst of the land, and the principles and practices of evil would be so counteracted
by them, that the kingdom of darkness, in all its
interests, would soon be weakened, and come to
nought.
The laird of Cambusnethan's wife, however, was
a very different person from himself; she was a
covenanter in principle, and one who feared the
Lord.  Her mind was deeply imbued with religion, and she had great pleasure in spiritual exercises.  Her husband's conduct was a matter of
sincere grief to her, and her righteous soul was
vexed from day to day with his unrighteous ways.
Her chief object was to seek the kingdom of God,
and his righteousness; and his principal employment was to persecute the unoffending subjects of




THE COVENANTERS.              89
that kingdom.  Lady Cambusnethan, as she was
courteously denominated by the country people,
employed all her efforts to counterplot the devices
of her husband respecting the sufferers, and,
through her instrumentality, they were often
warned of approaching danger. She made it her
endeavour to learn from the laird the names of the
persons for whose apprehension he might happen
to be making preparations, and, when she learned
who they were against whom evil was meditated,
she instantly conveyed the necessary information,
that they might forthwith provide for their safety.
It is not known how many worthy individuals
this good woman was the means of shielding from
harm; but she frequently succeeded in rendering
abortive the measures of her husband by imparting
timely warning.
The household of Cambusnethan Mains were
often indebted to the lady for their safety in the
day when mischief was plotted against them, and
many a stealthy messenger found his way to
Alexander Gray and his friends. By this means
the designs of the persecutors were frustrated, and
they were obliged to return without accomplishing their object.
It appears that, on every fitting occasion, the
lady sought to hold intercourse with those of the
covenanters who happened to be in the neigh.
bourhood of her residence.  It was necessary,
however, to attend to this in the most private manner, lest the knowledge of the circumstance should
bring on her the displeasure of the laird, and ex.
pose the helpless wanderers to a still more severe
treatment.  The society of religious persons must
have been highly valued by this pious woman, in.
asmuch as it was seldom her lot to enjoy the. or




90             TRADITIONS OF
dinances of religion in the connection which, ir
her conscience, she most approved of. On one
occasion, when her husband was from home, the
people in the vicinity agreed to call. from his retreat one of the wandering ministers, who was con-,
cealed in the district, to hold a conventicle in the
place. It was in the depth of winter, and the
snow lay thick on the ground.  This circumstance, however, did not prevent a goodly company
from  assembling; for in those days, when the
word of the Lord was scarce, people deemed it no
hardship to meet even in the midst of the roaring
tempest, to listen to the glad sound of the gospel
preached by the honoured men who had renounced all for the truth's sake. On this occasion the
congregation, having assembled in some retired
spot, sat on the cold snow, while the form of the
preacher, it is said, was but dimly seen through
the smoky drift. The lady was one of the hearers on this inclement day, so eager was she to
hear the word of God.  She was wrapped in a
shepherd's plaid, and seated in the beild of a whin
bush by the side of a " fail dyke;" and though
all was tempestuous and dreary without, yet all
was serene within, and the peace of God comforted the hearts of those whose persons were exposed
to the beating of the storm, while they followed
their Redeemer in the way of their duty. It was
doubtless in such circumstances that many caught
their death seated on the wet ground, or on the
sinking snow, while they were exposed to the
chilling sleet and drenching rain, as well as in the
cold damp caves. The lady had, no doubt, enough
ado to screen herself from the suspicion of enemies,
for her husband had in his own house, and in the
person of his wife what, if known, would have




TIHE COVENANTERS.              91
proved his worldly ruin, and therefore his worthy
spouse was obliged to conduct herself so as to excite no surmises.  Her presence at the conventicle
does not seem to have been known to any, save to
a few trusty friends to whom the secret could with
all safety be imparted. When the services were
ended the people sought their several homes, and
the preacher betook himself to his hiding-place,
and in a brief space the drifting snow left no trace
of their footsteps.
The family of Cambusnethan Mains, and particularly Alexander Gray, were under deep obligations to the gentlewoman. But, though she was
a successful instrument in protecting this good
man from the crafty designs of his enemies, she
could not shield him from disease. For no fewer
than twenty-one years his life had been in jeopardy, and yet, during that long period, he had
never swerved from his principles, nor in any instance yielded a compliance with the wishes of
the oppressor, in order to gain a temporary release
from his harassings. Nor is saying this to affirm
any thing peculiar to Alexander Gray, for the same
thing may be asserted of almost all his brethren
in these distressful times, when the faith and patience of the saints were tested to the utmost.
For many weeks in succession he was obliged to
absent himself from his own house, and to seek a
lodging in dreary caverns, in unsheltered moors,
or in the lonely mountain dells.  In the time of a
severe storm, when the cattle of the field, and the
fowls of the air, draw near the abodes of men for
shelter, the covert of an out-building or of a rude
barn, with a corn-sheaf for his pillow, and the
newly thrashed straw for his bed, was deemed by
him to be no small luxury. We, in days of peace




92              TRADITIONS OF
and domestic comfort, can form but little conception of the manner in which such men as Alexander Gray would appreciate the rude accommodation of a barn, or a shieling, when the retreat of
the dark moss hag or the feathery covert of the
brakens on the hill, was their usual haunt.
The constitution of Alexander Gray was originally good; it is said to have been even robust.
His was a manly and well-built frame, which promised to wear for many a long year.  The treatment, however, to which it was subjected ultimately made inroads on it, and at length forced it
entirely to give way.  Hunger and cold and fatigue and anxiety may be sustained for a few
days, or even for a few weeks, without much
damage, but years of painful endurance in this
way must tell another tale. Accordingly, after
exposure to a severe winter, and to a chilling and
inclement spring, the health of Gray began to decline, and the symptoms of some deeply-seated
disease showed  themselves.  No medical aid
could be procured, as no practitioner in the place
could be trusted with the secret of his hidingplace. The enemies of these worthy men endeavoured to close up every avenue of human sympathy through which the out-lettings of a brotherly
kindness might perchance flow in their direction. In
those days the men of the healing art, whose very
office it is to alleviate the sufferings of humanity,
were either so inhuman themselves or so much
under the control and supervision of the rulers of
the time, that, in the case of a covenanter suffering under a severe malady, and particularly
needing their assistance, they could not be confided in. Our worthy was therefore wholly left




THE COVENANTERS.              93
to the secret help of friends, and to the care of
Providence.
At the close of summer, therefore, Gray's case
was considered hopeless, and his situation was
very distressing.  He was at the same time lying
ill a cave, and at some distance from his house.
The abode to which he was now confined, to avoid
the detection of his enemies, was a most unsuitable place for a sickly man, the extremity of
whose disease had brought him to the brink of the
grave.  As the cavern was distant from his dwelling-house,-a circumstance which rendered at.
tendance on the patient inconvenient, his brother
James, who waited on him with all the assiduity
of fraternal kindness, sought for him a restingplace near the house. This was in the midst of
a field of standing corn, whose crowded stalks
afforded a comfortable shelter from the winds on
all sides. Here a bed was prepared, and all the
attention shewn him that his afflicted condition
required; still the disease was not arrested, but
the fever burned in his veins as formerly. In this
exposed situation, the cold and damp atmosphere
of night must have contributed  materially to
hasten on the crisis that was obviously at hand.
When his affectionate brother saw that his life
was drawing near its close, he resolved on removing him to the house, be the consequences
what they might.  He perceived that a discovery
would make little difference to his brother, whom
a few brief hours or days at farthest must bring
to the house appointed for all living; and as for
himself he was prepared to abide the conse.
quences.
In conveying Alexander Gray into the house
the utmost secrecy was necessary.  The danger




94              TRADITIONS OF
of placing the dying man on his own bed was alp
parent to every one, because on the slightest search
made by the enemy, a discovery would be made
at once. There was in the house a dark lumbercloset unoccupied, and here a couch was spread
as soft and comfortable as circumstances would
allow, and into this place was the good man
carried by his affectionate relations, who watched
over him with unceasing kindness till he died.
During the time that Alexander Gray lay in the
farm-house, the lady, who had heard of his illness,
wished much to pay him a visit, both to shew her
respect for an honoured follower of the Saviour,
and to receive his blessing before he died. Accordingly  this Christian woman called at the
Mains of Cambusnethan, her ostensible object
being to see the condition of the dairy, the furniture of which, it had been reported, was kept by
the " gudewife" in a very cleanly style; but her
real object was to see the dying man. By this
means her true errand, which was known to the
family, was concealed from the servants, to whom
it would have been imprudent to intrust the secret.
The pious wish of the lady was not, however,
gratified, as it was not possible to approach the bed
of the dying saint without being seen by the servants.  She returned so far without her errand,
though not without the blessing of the good man,
though she had not the pleasure of hearing it pronounced with his own lips.  God's people, how
different soever their stations in life may be, are
nevertheless one in spirit, and they feel the indescribable bond of Christian attachment uniting
their hearts together in the Lord.  This Christian
gentlewoman, though occupying a. much higher
standing in society than this suffering witness for




THE COVENANTERS.               95
Christ, considered herself on a level with him as
a believer, and felt for him as a fellow-saint. She
came to visit him in his affliction because he belonged to Christ, and to speak a word of comfort
to him, and to hold fellowship with him in the
Spirit; and she was doubtless blessed in her deed,
land the favour of Him, whose suffering servant
she had come to see, would rest upon her. " Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these my
brethren, ye did it unto me."  Alexander Gray
died full of faith and patience, and in the comfortable views of the glory that was to be revealed.
His life of wanderings and distress ended in peace,
and he entered into the joy of his Lord. This
worthy man was as much a martyr for civil and
religious liberty as if he had fallen by the bloody
Clavers on the moor, or by the hand of the executioner on the scaffold. His life was really sacrificed in the cause, though it was not taken away
by violence, and his name is retained among the
honoured worthies who " loved not their lives
unto the death."
James Gray, after the decease of his esteemed
and beloved brother, felt his heart still more
strongly attached to the cause which he had espoused.  He was a man of true piety and of unbending principle.  The sufferings of the party
with which he was connected, did not deter him
from casting in his lot among them.  He was on
all occasions ready to assist the sufferers, whatever might be the distress in which he himself
might be involved.  When the covenanters rose
in the west for self-defence in asserting their privileges, he was ready to unite with them.  He
was not indeed at the battle of Bothwell Bridge,
but he was on his way to join his brethren there,




96              TRADITIONS OF
Having understood that the sufferers were in arms,
he made ready with all haste, and proceeded to.
ward the place of their encampment. As he was
marching onward, however, he was met by the
fugitives from the battle-field, who informed him
of the mournful fate of their companions. To advance was needless, as the fate of the day was
already decided, and he returned with a number
of the fleeing party to his own house.  Their
hearts were full of grief, and sorely did they lament the disastrous issue of the conflict.  The
mystery of Providence, in permitting their defeat,
they could not well understand; but, believing
that the great ruler of the world does all things
well, they felt resigned to the divine disposal.
The time of their deliverance, however, was not
yet come; but the principles, which eventually
wrought out their emancipation eight years afterwards, did from this period operate more energetically and widely on the public mnind.
The family at Cambusnethan Mains courteously
entertained the wanderers, and with an unsparing
hand supplied their necessities. The homely fare
prepared for the daily use of the household was
found inadequate to the wants of the company that
had arrived, and hence all the female occupants
were instantly employed in making suitable preparations. The empty bread-basket was soon replenished with cakes hard and hot from the girdlel,
and creamy milk, and fragrant butter, fresh from
the well-kept dairy, were placed beside the ponderous kebbock on the hospitable board, and many
a hungry and weary wight was on that occasion,
after thanks given to Him who fills all his creatures with plenteousness, refreshed and strength.
ened by the simple but healthful fare of which




THE COVENANTERS.               97
they partook. " Use hospitality one to another,
without grudging," is the injunction of Scripture;
and it is an injunction which our persecuted forefathers did not treat with neglect, even though
their compliance with it exposed them  to the
spoiling of their goods, and also to the loss of
their lives.   The  company at Cambusnethan
Mains, after the kindly entertainment they had
received, dispersed and sought safety in their various places of concealment.  James Gray was
after this subjected to much trouble from his enemies, though they did not succeed in apprehending him.  He was preserved during the trying
times that followed; he saw the Revolution, and
lived many years after it. The descendants of
James Gray are persons of honest reputation in
the places where they live, and the character of
their ancestor is worthy of their imitation.
The " bread roller," as it is called, which was
so busily employed on that eventful day in the
kitchen of Cambusnethan Mains, in spreading out
on the baking board the oaten cakes and the
broad thin scones, " the wale of Scotia's food," is
still preserved, and is in the possession of a female descendant of the name of Gray resident in
Douglas, and great-great-grand-niece to Alexander
Gray.  It has been carefully handed down as an
heir-loom in the family, and is kept as a valuable
relic of the olden time.
There is in the town of Douglas another memorial of covenanting days, the " meal-basin," of
John Brown, the martyr of Priesthill.  It is a
specimen of good workmanship, considering the
times. It is made of plane-tree, and is capable
of containing at least two pecks of meal. It is in
a state of good preservation; and although the
9




bI98   ~ TRADITIONS OF
wood-worm has made in it many perforations, it
may yet, with tolerable care, be kept for generations to come.  It is interesting to hold in one's
hand the identical vessel which rested on the
knees of the saintly Priesthill, while his wife
rained from  her hand the snow-white meal by
which she thickened the porridge that steamed
over the fire of glowing peats piled endwise on
the hearth.
CHAPTER VII.
Curate of Kirkbride-Two pious families.
K1RKBRIDE is an old ruinous church among the
mountains in the upper part of Nithsdale. The
parish, which originally derived its name from
the church, was, upwards of a hundred and thirty
years ago, divided, and attached to the respective
parishes ofDurrisdeer and Sanquhar. The church,
the naked walls of which are still standing, is very
small, not capable of containing perhaps above an
hundred persons.  It stands on a sloping side of a
green mountain, and commands an extensive pros.
pect to the south-east; the view is terminated by
the dark blue mountain of Criffell which overlooks
the Solway frith, and a large tract of the west
coast of England. This part of the country was
in ancient times, for the most part, clothed with a
dense forest, especially in the straths and valleys,
and round the bottoms of the mountains; and this
is probably the reason why this church was built




THE COVENANTERS.               99
so far up on the breast of the hill, and: above the
upper limits of the forest.  The scenery in the immediate locality of the ruin is very grand.  The
hills around are not clad with heather; they are
covered with deep verdure. On the right there is
a deep glen called the lime cleuch, probably on
account of the limestones which have partially
been found in it. The sides of this glen are bold
and precipitous, and the mountains at its upper
extremity rise to a great height.  On the left is
the deep and darkly-wooded ravine through which
the Enterkin pours its troubled stream, whose romantic, or rather terrible pass among the Lowther
hills, is celebrated for the battle of the rescue
which took place in the times of the covenant,
and where also Drumlanrig, of persecuting noto.
riety, intercepted, on his journey to Edinburgh, a
party of covenanters, on a Sabbath morning, on
their way to a sacramental occasion in the low
country, whom he durst not attack in the narrow
and dangerous defile, but promised to hold a reckoning with them  on another day.  To the north
of the venerable ruin lies the small but beautiful
secluded valley of Strathquhairn, in the centre of
which stands a solitary hut built of stone and turf,
and which is not without incidents of its own.
The lonely church-yard, overgrown  with rank
grass, contains a variety of tombstones which
mark the resting-place of the ancient dead. Some
of these monuments are of considerable antiquity,
and bear inscriptions in characters so fantastic
that few can decipher them.  From  the eastern
gable of the building is still suspended the bell, the
sound of which assembled the people of forgotten
generations to the worship of God; its iron tongue
is, however, now silent, save when an occasional




100             TRADITIONS OF
preacher congregates  among  the graves the
worthy inhabitants whose " fathers worshipped in
this mountain."
It is not correctly known in what particular
era this little place of worship was first erected,
although tradition has its own tale respecting it.
It is probable, however, that it has been reared
since the Reformation, on the site of an older
structure. The religious history of the place is
not without interest. It is reported to have been
the very first of the parishes, in the south-west of
Scotland, the majority of whose population threw
off the papist yoke, and embraced the principles
of the reformers.  The tradition is, that the reformed worshippers, who were not permitted to
occupy the church, because the civil authorities
had not yet declared the Protestant religion to be
the religion of the land, met in the west corner of
the church-yard around an aged thorn-tree, under
which the preacher stood. The truth of this tradition seems to receive confirmation fiom the fact,
that among the many persons and things annually
excommunicated by the pope, the ancient thorntree in the burying ground of Kirkbride is particularly denounced. This circumstance was attested
by a literary gentleman, a licentiate of the Church
of Scotland, a very worthy man, lately deceased,
who, when in Rome with his pupil, heard the
thing with his own ears; and the circumstance
was to him the more interesting, that Kirkbride
was not two miles distant fiom the place where
he was born.  The people always had this tradition, but its certainty was not before absolutely
known.
It appears, then, that the doctrines of the Reformation were very acceptable to the secluded




THE COVENANTERS.              101
and simple-hearted people of this parish, and that
the truth in its saving power had been very generally felt among them. The good effects of that
great spiritual awakening which in those early
times was experienced, continued for many generations. The most of the ancient families, however, who had for ages inhabited the braes of
Kirkbride, have been dispersed, through means of
the agricultural changes that have been introduced into the district. Still there is found among
their thinly scattered population the lingering spirit
of their pious ancestors, and much worth is still
resident in the lowly cottages. In the landward
parts of the country there subsists more true religion than we are generally aware of, and there,
like the exquisitely beautiful flowers which are
occasionally to be met with in the desert, Christ
has many a choice one unknown to the world,
but whom  he tends with special care, and rears
with his gracious hand as precious plants soon to
be transported to another soil.
The expulsion of the curate of Kirkbride,-an
affair both amusing and instructive,-forms the
principal incident relative to this place in times
of prelatic usurpation.  The curate of Kirkbride,
it would appear, was a person of very different
description from  the curate of Sanquhar.  Like
many of his brethren, he seems to have been a
bold and imperious character, one whose moral
history was not what it should have been, and a
preacher whose doctrine was not the doctrine of
Christ. He pressed like a heavy and intolerable
incumbus on the parish; and the poor people who,
in better times, had been accustomed to a purer
doctrine, and to a milder treatment from  their
spiritual guides, felt the bitterness of the change.
97




102             TRADITIONS OF
A hireling had been intruded among them, who
cared not for the flock, but left them to wander on
the mountains in the dark and cloudy day,-a
hireling whose voice the sheep knew not, and
whom  they could not follow because he was a
stranger, and they knew not the voice of strangers.
In this situation, then, with no one to care for
their souls, a spirit of ecclesiastical insubordination began to show itself. The little parish was
agitated from end to end, and its rural quietude
and Christian peacefulness were troubled. The
cottagers met in companies in each other's houses,
and freely detailed their grievances. They lamented the circumstances in which they were
placed, and expressed both anger and sorrow;
but what more could they do?  They might murmur and complain in secret, but they could not
alter the complexion of the times. Their enemies
were too numerous and powerful to be resisted,
and the rod of oppression was wielded by a hand
too potent for any feeble arm  among them  to
wrench it from its grasp. Their situation was not
solitary.  A  moral desolation  overspread the
whole land, and wailing and distress were common in every quarter. The spirit of the community was bowed down to the dust under the load
of an oppression which men durst not attempt to
throw off.  Still the slate of matters in the parish
was not to be borne with, and something must be
done for their relief; and therefore these simple
people came to the conclusion, that if that detested
brood of prelacy, the curate, were removed, all
would be well.  It never entered their artless
minds that their meditated outrage would be re.
venged, or that another equally bad, if not worse,
might perchance be returned in the room of him




THE COVENANTERS.              103
whose fugitation they had effected.  But who was
to perform  this deed of high and chivalrous
daring? who was to be found possessed of the
hardihood to undertake the enterprise of expelling
the obnoxious incumbent for ever from the place
where his presence was so unbearably offensive?
Six individuals, it is said, undertook to rid the
parish of the evil complained of. The leader of
this little band was a worthy man of the name of
Clark, some of whose lineal descendants are at
the present day resident in the neighbourhood.
These champions, then, having engaged valorously to assert the inalienable rights of the small
Christian community with which they were more
specially connected, equipped themselves in a
manner befitting the onerous task which they had
undertaken to accomplish. The design was preserved in deep secrecy from the party whom they
were going to assail, that they might with the
greater promptitude, and without any obstruction,
perform the deed. And faithfully and religiously
was the secret kept on the part of those to whom
it was confided; for even here there were spies
and informers, ready to communicate any thing
that looked suspicious in word or deed.
The manse of Kirkbride was a unique specimen
of the rude masonry of the olden times. It was
constructed chiefly with a view of defending its
inmates from the storms of winter, to which, from
its elevated situation, it was peculiarly exposed.
Not the least vestige of any thing ornamental was
to be seen about its exterior; but then it had all
the strength of an ancient feudal castle.  Its walls
were of great thickness, and so firmly compacted,
that, when it was demolished a few years ago, it
was with much difficulty that they were over



104             TRADITIONS OF
turned.  Whatever it was prior to the Reforma.
tion, it is obvious, that after that period it was the
residence of men who, in point of sanctity and usefulness, had few compeers, and with whom  its
present occupant, the curate, was not once to be
named.  It was the remembrance of such men,
who had been instrumental in conveying to many
of the poor parishioners the knowledge of the
truth, that alienated their minds from him who
now professed to exercise among them  the functions of a spiritual oversight.
In pursuance, then, of their grand purpose respecting the curate, Clark and his company pre.
sented themselves on the day appointed before the
manse of Kirkbride.  They arranged themselves
in front of the house, and demanded an audience
of the curate. The servant, who met them at the
door, returned to inform her master that a party
of six men wished to see him.', Who are they?
and what do they want?  If they are asking cha.
rity, tell them to go elsewhere."  "They are not
beggars, sir," replied the maid; "they are tall,
stout men, with bonnets on their heads, their hose
drawn above their knees, and armed with large
clubs."  " Tell them that they can have no ad.
mittance here, and that they must be gone instantly." She returned with the message, and
the men became clamorous and threatened to force
an entrance.  The noise at the door roused the
curate, who looked through the window and saw
the men, and knew them  to be his avowed ene.
mies  He instantly learned their design, and perceived from their determined looks, and from their
warlike attitude, and the terrific brandishing of
their ponderous clubs, that his life was in hazard.
To defend himself was impossible, and the only




THE COVENANTERS.             105
means of safety was flight. During the altercation, then, between the assailants and the servant,
he made his escape through a window unperceived.
After a short delay the men rushed into the house,
and the maid not knowing that her master was
gone, was in a state of great consternation. The
strictest search was made, but he could not be
found. At last they observed him running at his
utmost speed to reach the height above Strathquhairn. The man had been uncomfortable in his
situation through the dislike of the people, and his
life, being sweeter to him than his curacy, he
abandoned the one that he might retain the other.
The elopement of the curate so far secured the object of the persons who on this occasion did him
the honour of a visit, and Providence prevented
them from  inflicting any injury on his person,
which they might probably have done, if he had
refused to vacate his place at their command.
What became of this  man afterwards is not
known; but it is not unlikely that he would soon
be supplied with another situation of a similar de.
scription, considering that he would be regarded
by his own party in the light of an insulted and
persecuted individual, who richly deserved their
sympathy and support.  His departure, however,
must have afforded a subject of heart-felt gratulation to the poor people to whom his ministrations
were so unacceptable. People can derive no spiritual profit from the services of a man who has
been thrust in upon them by the strong hand of
power, reckless of the consequences of such an
ungracious intrusion. The inhabitants of Kirkbride, at this period, by no means enjoyed a millennium; and there is little likelihood, though the
obnoxious incumbent was driven from his occu.




106             TRADITIONS OF
pancy, that the affairs of the parish would undergo any amendment worth the mentioning till
the more auspicious times of the Revolution, when
the Lord loosed the bands of his enthralled church,
and turned her captivity " like streams of water in
the south."  We who live in the days of a happy
religious liberty, when every man can sit under
his own vine, and under his own fig-tree, without
any restriction or any to make him afraid, should
learn to value our privileges, and to improve the
breathing-time which God has granted us.  We
cannot tell how soon the bright sky above our
heads may suffer an obscuration, nor are we sure
that days of trial do not await us.  The great
Head of the church may yet see fit to purge his
floor by the sifting winds of persecution before he
gather his wheat into his garner.
There is another anecdote which was current
among the older people of this district.  There
lived somewhere in this parish, or immediately
on its confines, two pious families, the.heads of
which respectively had incurred the odium of the
prelatic party. Their pertinacious noncomformity
rendered them so peculiarly offensive to the ecclesiastical supervisors of the period, that injunctions
were given to a number of soldiers to embrace the
first opportunity of apprehending them.  This
military appointment soon became known to the
two honest covenanters, who used every precaution to keep themselves out of harm's way. They
knew the vigilance of their enemies, and the artful
methods which they would employ to circumvent
them.  On this account they were often obliged
to withdraw from their own houses, and the two
companions in suffering took up their abode in
the woods, and at other times crept by stealth into




THE COVENANTERS.             107
the dwelling of some friendly neighbour, who
pitied and sheltered them in their perilous circumstances.  Every attempt, on the part of the sol.
diers, to seize them at home proved abortive; and
so often were they thwarted in their purpose, that
they resolved to abandon the project as utterly
impracticable. It occurred, however, to the persons who professed to have a deeper interest in
the matter than the hireling troopers, that if the
husbands could not be captured, their wives at
least might be caught. In those times of religious
oppression, it was comparatively rare to witness
helpless females arrested by the rough hand of
persecuting violence; and when any incident of
this description did take place, it was regarded as
a display of uncommon barbarity.  Hence the
women, however religiously attached to the covenanting  party, were  generally, though not
always overlooked.  In this instance, however,
no leniency was shown, and the soldiers were instructed to lay hold on the wives in default of
their husbands.
When this became known, these virtuous wo
men found themselves in the same predicament as
their husbands, and saw it necessary to provide
for their safety in a similar manner. Their case,
as females, however, was more distressing. They
were less capable of enduring hardship, and their
absence from home could be less easily dispensed
with.  It happened one day that the dragoons
were out on the search, and the women having
received information of the circumstance betook
themselves in company to the fields. There was
in the vicinity of their abode a rising ground
covered with tall broom, whose pliant and slendei
branches, loaded with lovely yellow blossoms,




108             TRADITIONS OF
waved gracefully in the wind. It was in the very
heart of this broomny hillock, and in the secrecy
of its densest coverts, that they concealed themselves. As they were sitting here closely wrapt
in their mantles, the soldiers were heard descending the brow immediately behind them.  They
had dismounted, and were leading their horses
through the mazes and entanglements of the
bushes, and in their progress they happened to
advance almost in a direct line to the spot where
the two timid daughters of the covenant were
crouching in fearful apprehension. The horsemen came on jesting and laughing and switching
the flowery broom, and at length approached so
closely to the hiding-place of the matrons.that, as
they passed them, their long military cloaks came
trailing over the heads of the cowering fugitives,
who felt as if a mountain were falling on them,
and crept closer and closer to the ground, as if
they would have sunk beneath its surface. The
crisis, however, was over.  The soldiers moved
on, and the women remained undiscovered. Thus
did the Lord preserve these feeble and helpless
persons who trusted in him.  What befell them
and their husbands after this period is not said;
but there is no doubt that the same God who had
guided them hitherto would continue to be their
guide even unto death.
The paucity of anecdotes regarding the covenanters who resided in Kirkbride is rather remarkable, considering the firm hold which, from an
early period, the principles of the reformation had
of its inhabitants,-and their spirited conduct respecting the curate shows that these principles had
not been abandoned.  The want of traditional in.
cident, however, by no means proves that the




THE COVENANTERS.             109
good people who tenanted this locality had either
swerved from their constancy or were overlooked
by their enemies.  The likelihood is, that the
tales of interest respecting their persecuted ancestry have died out with the people of a former
generation. This, at least, has been eminently
the case in other places, not far from the scene of
this narrative, where, within the last few years,
scores of instructive rehearsals respecting our
covenanted worthies, which nobody thought it
worth the while to arrest in their progress to oblivion, have departed irrecoverably with a few
aged men, lately deceased.  But though names
and occurrences are forgotten, principles live,principles which are indestructible, and principles
which are destined to rectify and keep in order
the whole framework of society, and finally to
pervade  the  entire  living  mass of mankind
throughout the world.  The immediate benefit
which resulted from the successful contendings of
our forefathers was at first confined only to a
single point of the geographical surface of the
earth; but from that point, as from a centre, the
truth has radiated, and shall ultimately spread
abroad among all nations.  The attempt to suppress the truth of God in Scotland by persecution
was the very means, in the hand of Providence,
of reviving that truth, and of diffusing it more
widely around.  The persecution which commenced in Jerusalem  with the martyrdom  of
Stephen, was the occasion of the dissemination
of the gospel, not only throughout the land of
Judea, but also throughout other countries.  It
was then that the waters of the sanctuary began
to swell and rise like a mighty flood, dispersing
10




110             TRADITIONS OF
themselves far and wide through all lands. Per.
secution opened the sluices through which issued,
in copious flood, the streams of those sacred
waters which had been pent up within the walls
of the holy city, and then the full river of God
flowed in majestic current far onward into the
sterile regions of heathenism, which it refreshed
and fertilized, causing " the desert to rejoice and
blossom  as the rose."  In our beloved land the
claims of civil and religious liberty were neither
so well understood nor so richly appreciated as
after the attempt made to suppress them. The
rude blasts of persecuting violence, however,
made that fair and stately tree, under whose spa.
cious boughs we now  repose, strike its roots
deeper and take a firmer hold of the soil; and
now, like the tree which Nebuchadnezzar saw in
vision, which " was strong, whose height reached
unto heaven, and the sight thereof to all the earth;
whose leaves were fair, and the fruit thereof much,
and in which was meat for all; under which the
beasts of the field dwelt, and upon whose branches
the fowls of heaven had their habitation;" like
this tree it shall be, " in the midst of the earth,"
and it shall eventually overshadow all lands, and
shall continue without decay unto the end




THE COVENANTERS.              111
CHAPTER VIII.
James Harkness-Scene at Biggar-Curate of MoffatTroopers at Locherben-Howatson.
A WHILE after the commencement of the persecu
tion in Scotland, James Harkness of Locherben,
with a number of others, it is said, left his native
country and took refuge in Ireland.  It was in
the emerald Isle that they looked for that repose
from the vexatious harassings of the persecutors
which they could not find at home.  In Ireland
the refugees from the south and west of Scotland
frequently found an asylum  in the day of the
church's tribulation.  It was to this country that
the venerable Peden sometimes resorted when he
wished to retire from  the bluidy land, as he
termed Scotland, when the sword of persecution
was bathed in the blood of the saints.  James
Harkness, however, did not feel himself at ease
in Ireland; he began to view himself in the light
of a deserter from the ranks of that noble band of
confessors, who were jeoparding their lives, on
the high places of the field, in maintaining the
standard of Zion in the day of conflict. The loud
wailings of his brethren in their native land were
wafted across the seas, and his heart was stirred
within him, for he felt himself identified with the
afflicted remnant, and he hastened back to help
to  support his fainting mother's head" in the day
when her enemies were sorely incensed against
her, and when they were passing over her prostrate body, and treading her down like the mire




112             TRADITIONS OF
on the streets. He therefore embraced the first
opportunity of returning to that scene of suffering
and of conflict, from which he had for self-preservation withdrawn.  Some of his friends and acquaintances who had accompanied him to Ireland,
remained in the land of their refuge, where having,
it is said, acquired possessions, they became
permanently resident. James Harkness, and his
brother Thomas, however, returned to their native
land, where the one suffered martyrdom, and the
other acted a prominent part in the memorable
rescue at Enterkin.
The notoriety which the two brothers acquired
in the cause of the covenant, pointed them out
to their enemies as individuals that were particularly obnoxious. James they denominated Harkness with the " long gun," and Thomas they
styled Harkness with the " white hose."  The
importance of the two brothers, as leaders of the
covenanting party, is sufficiently obvious, from
the fact that Clavers frequently attempted, by
means of his emissaries, to negotiate with James,
with a view to gain him over to the ruling party,
and promised him, as the price of his compliance,
a captainship in the royal forces. Every lure of
this description, however, was indignantly rejected
by him, and he preferred  suffering to worldly
honour and emolument, when, by compliance, the
claims of conscience must necessarily be disregarded.  It was not to be expected, that one who
had suffered persecution for the truth's sake would
himself become a persecutor, and plot the ruin of
that cause, and of those friends he so ardently
loved. But when the object of his enemies, which
was, by means of solicitation and fair promises,
to gain him to their party, failed, they were de.




THE COVENANTERS.             113
termined to seize him and his associates by force,
and where they could not bend the will to punish
the person. As he and his friends were skulking
among the wild mountains and solitary glens of
Nithsdale, they were surprised by a party of dragoons, who hastily surrounded them and took them
prisoners.  It was in vain to resist; they were in
the firm grasp of the powerful foe, from which
they could not extricate themselves. The commander of the party, who apprehended them, was
a man of a fiery and cruel disposition, and he
used them with great harshness. It appears that
prisoners were frequently treated in a very barbarous manner by the soldiers, who conveyed
them to their place of destination. They were
permitted to act as they pleased, no superior authority offering to control them; and indeed, the
rigour exercised on their part, so far from giving
offence, would be regarded with approbation by
the officers. Of this rigour we have an example
in the case of the good Cargill, whose feet Bonshaw tied below the horse's belly, in a way so
hard and painful, that the worthy man was obliged
to remonstrate with him on his cruelty.
When they arrived in Edinburgh, to which
place they were conveyed to be tried, they were
put into a place of confinement, from which, before they were brought to trial, they succeeded in
making their escape. They then proceeded homewards with all the secrecy and despatch they
could, and passing Biggar, where the leader of
the party who conducted them to Edinburgh happened at the time to be resident, they resolved to
visit him. Their design in waiting on him was to
put in execution a project which they had devised,
for the purpose not of injuring, but of frightening
10*




114            TRADITIONS OF
one who had caused them so much trouble and
inconvenience. As they approached his house he
observed them, and at once knew them to be the
prisoners who were recently under his charge.
He could not understand how they had possibly
got free, and, dreading mischief from them, he hid
himself. At the door they asked civilly for the
captain, and said they wished to see him on particular business. His wife, who had been apprized
of the character of her visitors, said he was not at
home. Harkness began to fear lest their intention
should be defeated, when a little boy standing near
said, " I will show where my father is," and forthwith conducted them to the place of his concealment.  They instantly dragged him out, as the
soldiers used to do the covenanters from their
hiding-places, and appeared as if they were going
to take his life. They imitated in all respects the
manner in which the dragoons shot the wanderers
in the field. Having furnished themselves with a
musket, probably from  his own armoury, they
caused him to kneel down while they tied a napkin over his eyes, and desired him to prepare for
immediate death. The poor man, in the utmost
trepidation, was obliged to submit. He bent on
his knees, and, being blindfolded, he expected
every moment when the fatal shot would be
poured into his body. Harkness after an ominous
silence of a few seconds, a brief space doubtless
of intense anxiety and agony to the helpless captain, fired, but fired aloft into the air. The innocuous shot went whizzing over the head of the
horror-stricken man, who, though stunned with
the loud and startling report, sustained no injury.
Having then, by way of chastisement, succeeded
ti making him feel something of what the poor




THE COVENANTERS.              115
covenanters felt when their ruthless foes shot
them without trial or ceremony in the fields, they
took the bandage from his eyes, and raised him
up almost powerless with terror to his feet.  The
circumstance made a deep impression on his mind;
he saw he was fully in the power of the men who
had thus captured him, and that, notwithstanding,
they had done him no harm.  Surprise and glad.
ness took the place of the fear of death, and of the
anguish of despair in the grateful man's boson.
He confessed that the sparing of his life was owing
to their Christian clemency, and to the merciful
character of their religious principles. He freely
admitted that the spirit, with which they were
actuated, was very different from that displayed
towards them by the party to which he belonged,
and that they had amply rewarded him good for
evil.  He was deeply affected by a sense of the
favour shown him, at a time when he had nothing
before him but a prospect of immediate death.
Kindness, it is said, is the key to the human heart,
and in this instance it was attended with the very
best results. He avowed on the spot his conviction of the sinfulness of the cause in which he was
engaged, and his determination to quit for ever a
service in which he was too plainly fighting against
God.  What kindness he showed on this occasion
to Harkness and his companions is not said, but it
is affirmed that he became a new man.  He inquired into the nature of the gospel, and embraced
with a cordial faith the doctrine of Christ, and all
this resulted from  the incident above narrated.
The ways and means by which the Lord is some.
times pleased to direct the attention of sinners to
the truth are surprising, and any means will do
when he works.  It is not said what incidents be.




116          - TRADITIONS OF
fell this individual owing to the change of his
views on religious matters, but there can be no
doubt that he was afterwards subjected to the
same persecution as those of the party with which
he was now associated.  Desertion from the ranks
of the persecutors must have been visited with pun.
ishment peculiarly severe; but God who changed
his heart could support him under all his trials,
and enable him to hold fast his profession.
After this, Harkness returned to the south, and
kept himself in the retirement of his native mountains.  The following anecdote is told of him;
but whether the incident which it records took
place prior to his being taken to Edinburgh, or
after his return, is not said.  A party of dragoons
called on the knight of Closeburn, and requested
his aid in apprehending James Harkness in his
house at Locherben, as being a restless and in.
domitable  covenanter.  The good knight was
obliged to accompany them, and to guide them
through the woods and uplands to the abode of
Harkness.  A great deal of rain had fallen about
the time, and the morasses were fill, and all the
streams and rivulets overflowed their banks. But
though this was the case, so anxious were the
troopers to obtain their object, that no consideration
could induce them to wait another opportunity.
The assiduity which wicked men often display in
the service of Satan, should stimulate Christians
to greater activity, and perseverance in the good
work of the Lprd.  It is lamentable to see the
people of God so slothful in doing his will, when
the adversaries of goodness are so zealous in pro.
moting the interests of the evil one.
As the party proceeded on their wayto Locherben, Harkness observed their approach. As they




THE COVENANTERS.             117
were not far from the house when he first saw
them, he had no opportunity of making his escape; but necessity, it is said, is the mother of invention; and he adopted, on the spur of the moment, the following plan, with a view to elude if
possible the observation of his enemies.  It occurred to him that the only chance of escape was to
attempt to act the part of the cowherd; and accordingly, having thrown around him a tattered
plaid, and taken a staff in his hand, he was in the
act of driving the cows to the bent, when the party
arrived. They never once imagined that the man
of whom they were in quest would thus dare to
present himself in the very presence of his foes,
reckless of the consequences that might ensue.
His apparently listless manner, in driving the
cattle before him slowly and heedlessly, tended to
lull suspicion on the part of the dragoons, and
hence they took no notice of him. It was the intention of Harkness, in case he should be accosted
by any of the party, to pretend to be an insane
sort of person, and in this way to imitate David,
who " changed his behaviour before Achish king
of Gath, and feigned himself mad."  One of the
party having proposed to ride up to him, and to
put some questions to him, the knight, who well
knew who he was, and who saw at once the purpose for which he had assumed this guise and
occupation, remarked that it was not worth their
while to waste time with an old and insane man,
from whom  nothing satisfactory could  be obtained, and proposed that they should instantly
enter the house. The trooper was by this means
diverted from his purpose, and the whole com.
pany proceeded without delay to the dwellinghouse.  Having dismounted and entered the abode




118            TRADITIONS OF
of our worthy, they began the search.  During
the time the soldiers were within, Harkness drove
the cows with all haste over a rising ground in the
neighbourhood of the house, and then betook himself to flight, and succeeded in making his escape
The providence that had hitherto protected him
shielded him on the present occasion also, and accomplished his deliverance.  Their errand having
proved fruitless, the worthy knight left the soldiers
to find their way homeward through the woods
and moors in the best manner they could, and enjoyed, in his own mind, the satisfaction of having
contributed to save the life of a good man.
Another anecdote is told of him, relative to an
incident that is said to have befallen about the
termination of the persecuting period. The people
of Moffat, like many of their neighbours in similar
circumstances, were tired of the curate of the parish, and earnestly wished his removal. In order
to accomplish this purpose, they applied to Harkness, who happened at the time to be residing in
the neighbourhood, to assist them in the project.
He acceded to their request; and having collected
a number of trusty persons, went to the manse and
desired the incumbent to withdraw in a peaceable
manner. The curate made a virtue of necessity
and departed, leaving the inhabitants to congratulate themselves on the removal of an incubus that
pressed so heavily upon them.  Great was the dis.
satisfaction throughout the country generally on
account of the intrusion of the curates, but no effectual redress could be obtained, and the partial
expulsions which took place were attended with
no lasting advantage.
The following account, which Wodrow gives of
the curates, amply justifies the aversion of the




THE COVENANTERS.              119
people to their incumbency, and their anxious de.
sire for their removal.  "When the curates entered the pulpit," says the historian, " it was by an
order from the bishop, without any call from, yea
contrary to the inclinations of, the people. Their
personal character was black, and no wonder their
entertainment was coarse and cold. In some
places they were welcomed with tears in abundance; and entreaties to be gone, in others, with
reasonings and arguments which confounded them;
and some entertained with threats, affronts, and
indignities too many here to be repeated. The
bell's tongue in some places was stolen away, that
the parishioners might have an excuse for not coming to church. The doors of the churches in other
places were barricaded, and they made to enter by
the window literally. The laxer of the gentry
easily engaged them to join in their drinking cabals,
which with all iniquity did now fearfully abound,
and sadly exposed them.  And in some places the
people fretted with the dismal change, gathered
together and violently opposed their settlement,
and received them with showers of stones. This
was not indeed the practice of the religious and
morejudicious; such irregularities were committed
by the more ignorant vulgar; yet they were so
many evidences of the regard which they were like
to have from the body of their parishioners. Such
who were really serious mourned in secret, as
doves in the valleys, and from principle could never
countenance them: and others dealt with them as
hath been said. The longer they continued, and
the better they were known, the more they were
loathed for their dreadful immoralities." Considering the character of these men, therefore, and the
nature of their doctrine, it is not to be wondered at




120            TRADITIONS OF
that the people, in certain localities, should have
attempted their expulsion.
Connected with the residence of James Harkness, is the following anecdote, relative to the
covenanter Howatson, whose escape from  the
pit of Drumlanrig has been mentioned in the
first volume of these traditions. This good man
lived some time at Locherben, and his piety
and nonconformity exposed him  to the notice
of his enemies. Like the most of those who
were friendly to the same cause, he was obliged
to consult his safety, by withdrawing from his
own house, and hiding himself in the dens and
caves of the earth. Near his little cottage there
was a rocky place in the hill above, to which he
frequently betook himself for concealment. Here
he found a refuge when the enemy was searching
all around for their prey, and he succeeded in keeping himself out of the way of the destroyer, till
the danger was overpast. It was no trivial advantage to his family that his place of concealment was so near them, for, on account of its contiguity to his house, he could easily visit them by
stealth, and could both give and receive that assistance which was needed. A hiding-place so
favourable was not always the good fortune of
many of those who were placed in similar circumstances; they had often to remain in the heart of
the dreariest solitudes, with none to comfort them,
and none to tell how it fared with those who were
left behind.
Howatson's family, when he durst not venture to
his house, could occasionally meet him in the cave,
and bring him a supply of food and other necessaries.
On one occasion, when Howatson, on account of




THE COVENANTERS.            121
the strict search made for him, was obliged to
confine himself to his cave, his wife was delivered
of a child. A party of the dragoons arrived at the
house in quest of her husband, and, finding the
poor woman in this situation, behaved in the most
insolent and brutal manner.  They searched
every corner of the dwelling, but without success.
They then proceeded to the bed on which the woman was lying, and stabbed w:th their swords all
around her, beneath the bed-clothes, if perchance
they might find her husband.  The annoyance
which this gave the honest woman was peculiarly
distressing to a person in her condition. They
threatened her in the most violent manner, if she
did not instantly reveal her husband's hiding-place.
The good woman, whose mind was kept in comparative composure, and who was fortified with
more than ordinary strength to maintain her
ground, and to outbrave her persecutors, answered with firmness and determination, that she
would not comply with their request, nor on any
account betray her husband. The rude and unmannerly assailants were abashed at her fortitude,
and, though they vaunted and threatened all manner of mischief, they were not permitted to inflict
any injury on her person. She upbraided them for
their mean and unmannerly conduct in thus assaulting a helpless and unprotected female, and
expressed her confidence in the protection of that
God whom she and her husband served, and who
had promised not to abandon in the day of their
distress those who trusted in him.
During the uproar, a little boy, who was standing near his mother, began to cry bitterly.  He
was terrified at the appearance of the dragoons;
their pistols, their broad swords, and their loud




122             TRADITIONS OF
and angry voices filled him with terror. lIe clting
to the bed on which his mother lay, his little
heart was ready to burst, and his screams filled
the apartment.  The behaviour of the child arrested the attention of the soldiers, and one of
them, seizing him by the tiny arm, dragged him
from the house, in spite of the entreaties and expostulations of his mother. They carried him to
the brow of the hill, not far from his father's
hiding-place, who was at that moment concealed
in the cave. Their object was to extort from the
boy information regarding his father's retreat, and
they expected to find him more communicative on
this subject than his mother.  In order the better
to succeed in their design, they resolved to operate on his fears, and accordingly they tied him
to a tree, and plainly informed him that they
would either stab him with their swords, or shoot
him dead on the spot.  The timid child, fearing
lest the soldiers would fulfil their threatenings,
screamed louder than before, and his shrill and
agonizing cries reached the inmost recesses of the
cavern in which his father lay. The well-known
voice of the boy in the utmost distress, roused
Howatson, who, looking forth from his concealment, beheld, in consternation, his beloved child
tied fast to a tree, and the dragoons standing before him, as if about to put him to instant death.
Not a moment was to be lost; he issued from the
cave, and sprang between the soldiers and his
little son, prepared to save the life of the dear boy
at the expense of his own.  The stratagem
planned by the soldiers being thus successful,
Howatson was instantly seized, and his child dismissed.  The party proceeded with him to Drumlanrig.  The road along which they marched




THE COVENANTERS.             123
passed a place called Closeburn Mill, where a
small house of entertainment was kept; and here
the troopers halted, for the purpose of regaling
themselves with liquor. They continued to drink
deep, and H-owatson continued to watch his opportunity of escape.  In a short time the intoxicating
beverage began to operate, and soon rendered
them  oblivous, both of themselves and of their
prisoner.  Howatson, who now saw his advan.
tage, stole quietly from  the apartment without
being observed, and speedily made his escape.
When the soldiers awoke from their stupefaction,
their captive was gone.  Satan caught them  it
his snare, and while they were held in it, this
honest witness for the truth obtained his freedom.
This father was ready to sacrifice his life for the
sake of his child; and now the Master whom he
served rewarded him by giving him his own life
for a prey in return. He was restored again to
his family, who in the day of their tribulation
trusted in the Lord, and he did not forsake
them.
CHAPTER IX.
William Smith-House conventicle-Welsh of Scar-Fell of
Balmaclellan-Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick.
THE parish of Closeburn occupies a beautiful spot
in the central basin of Nithsdale. The locality is
sweetly diversified with wooded spaces, cultivated
fields, and undulating heights. It has been long




124             TRADITIONS OF
famed for its rural academy, within the walls ol
which many a literary character has received an
early training. The illustrious Boston of Etterick,
who sometimes assisted the famous Mr. Murray
of Penpont on sacramental occasions, received at
one time a call to this parish,-a circumstance respecting which so much is detailed in the memoirs
of that distinguished man.  In the immediate
neighbourhood of Closeburn, and in the parish of
Morton, stands the village of Thornhill, on a
rising-ground occupying the centre point of the
charming basin to which Closeburn gives the
name.  Thornhill itself, a pleasant village, commands a delightful view of the spacious valley
with which it is surrounded; few inland districts,
perhaps, can furnish, on a similar scale, a finer
prospect. On the west, the ducal castle of Drum.
lanrig is seen couching like a lion in the forest, with
all the variegated scenery in the vicinity of that
princely residence. On the north are the frowning hills of Morton, to the east of which lies the
far-famed Crigh Hope linn; and farther on in the
distance are seen the circling hills of Durisdeer,
so green and gay as to seem the guardians of
some enchanted fairy dell; and all around on the
south and south-west, the scene opens in all the
richness of a high cultivation, and terminates in
the extreme prospective with a long extended
ridge of mountains.
The Cairn of Closeburn is situated on the banks
of a streamlet called the Ballachin burn, and was
in the times of persecution tenanted by a worthy
man named William Smith.  At the head of this
burn there is a linn which was selected as a place
of concealment by the oppressed covenanters.
William  Smith was frequently obliged to leave




THE COVENANTERS.             125
his own house and retire to the linn from the keen
vigilance of his enemies.  He was a good man,
and firmly attached to those principles which it
was the object of the dominant party to suppress;
and he chose to subject himself to every kind of
hardship rather than violate his conscience by
yielding in the smallest degree to the requisitions
of those who sought to corrupt the truth of God,
and to rob men of the sacred boon of liberty, that
birth-right gifted by God himself, and which none
but base-minded men  will repudiate.  He who
cares little for civil freedom, will care as little for
religious liberty; and he who will not contend for
the one, will as little contend for the other.  God
has committed to us the trust of freedom as citizens to be preserved for the sake of our freedom
as Christians, for the profession of true religion
cannot be maintained without it: and he who surrenders this privilege to the caprice of a tyrant,
acts a recreant part, for which the sovereign
Judge of all will call him  to account.  What a
noble sight is it to see poor men in low stations
contending for high principles, and maintaining an
elevation of character which may well put to the
blush the boasted pretensions of the polite and the
great, who despise alike the poor man and his
cause!
It appears that William Smith often spent whole
nights in the linn, not daring to venture home lest
he should be apprehended by his enemies.  The
inconvenience of this must have been very great,
as this place was his only shelter in all kinds of
weather, the most inclement as well as the most
mild.  On one occasion his wife, who constantly
visited him in his retreat, induced him to spend a
night under his own roof; and she agreed to keep
11*




126             TRADITIONS OF
watch while he was asleep, and to rouse him on
the first approach of danger. Accordingly, under
the cloud of night, he stole to his dwelling, in the
hope of obtaining without interruption one night's
refreshing rest in his own warm bed. His affectionate wife, who must have been of a kindred
spirit with himself, felt no doubt a peculiar satisfaction in witnessing her husband enjoying the
calm  repose of a sound sleep after so much
watching and fatigue. Like a guardian angel she
watched by his couch, occasionally performing
her work in the house by the cheerful light of the
fire which was blazing on the hearth; and many
a time, we may suppose, she stood still to listen if
anything of a suspicious nature was approaching.
As the night passed on, she would fancy that
every advancing hour would lessen the probability
of any unwelcome visit from  those she most
dreaded, and that her husband, refreshed and invigorated, would hie away in safety before the
break of day, and reach his place of refuge undiscovered. At the dead of night, however, her
pleasing reverie was disturbed by an ominous
sound in the distance,-her heart began to fail,
and all her fears were realized, when the heavy
trampling of horses was heard at the door. The
first thing was to rouse her husband, which was
the work of a moment.  He sprang from his bed,
fully alive to the danger of his situation, and according, no doubt, to preconcerted measures, made
his escape by a window in the back part of the
house.  The tradition that he fled naked, and remained in this condition in the linn till his wife
brought his clothes in the morning, is scarcely
credible, at least it is not at all likely, because in
his precarious circumstances it is more probable to




THE COVENANTERS.             127
suppose that all due precautions would be taken
by Smith in this instance, and that he would sleep
partly in his apparel, and be ready, with "the
swiftness of arrowy haste," to dart away prepared
for his cold lodgment in the linn.  The husband
having made his escape, the soldiers interrogated
the wife respecting the reset of rebels in her house;
and having satisfied themselves in reference to her
declaration that nobody was within, they departed
without further interference, but not without a
sharp reproof from the mistress of the lowly dwelling for the unmannerly disturbance they had
caused in the quietude of the night. In the early
morning she visited the linn, carrying food to her
husband,-whom  she no doubt congratulated on
the providential deliverance he had experienced.
It is no unlikely thing to suppose that these pious
persons, before they parted at the linn, would
offer up the united prayer of a cordial thankfulness
to the Author of their mercies, and that, considering that the one of them at least had obtained a
respite from death, they would feel toward each
other the glow of a warmer and more elevated at.
tachment.
On another occasion, this good man experienced
a deliverance no less remarkable. Claverhouse,
having heard of a religious meeting that was to
be held on a certain night at the Clauchrie of
Closeburn, was proceeding with his troopers to the
place for the purpose of surprising the conventicle.
In his way to the meeting-place, he had to pass
through the glen, near the linn where Smith concealed himself. It was a clear moonlight night,
and Smith was sitting alone by a bieldy bush, attempting to read a religious book-tradition says
the Confession of Faith-by the help of the lunar




128            TRADITIONS OF
rays. A devotional heart will seize every oppor.
tunity of holding communion with God, whether
it be by night or by day, whether in the comfortable chamber or in the open air.  The devout
feelings of our worthy could not fail to be excited,
when he cast a glance on the lofty firmament,
bespangled with myriads of brilliant stars, which
proclaim the glory of Him who by his power and
his wisdom garnished the heavens, and gave every
shining orb a tongue to speak his praise.  "0
Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all
the earth, who hast set thy glory above the heavens."  While the pious man was thus endea.
vouring to read the moonlit pages, and was meditating on things divine, the heavy tread of horses
was heard approaching, and Claverhouse and his
company stood before him. They were surprised
at finding a man at this hour in such a seclusion,
and engaged in such an occupation. It immediately occurred to Claverhouse, that the man must
be a covenanter, and he charged him with the
crime of reading the Bible, as a proof of the alle.
gation. In these times, it was enough to convict
a man of rebellion, and to expose him to the punishment of death, if he was known to be one who
was in the habit of reading the word of God, and
of regulating his conduct by its precepts.  The
dragoons, in passing along the highway, have
been known to shoot at persons sitting in the
fields with a book in their hand, on the supposition that they could not belong to their party, and
were consequently disaffected persons. A painful instance of this we have in the case of Arthur
Inglis, farmer, in the nether town of Cambusnethan, who, on the day after the battle of Bothwell,
" whilst looking after his cattle which were gra.




THIE COVENANTERS.           129
zing on a field, set himself down on a fur, and
was reading his Bible, when he was unfortunately
seen by some soldiers passing on the highway;
they immediately concluded him to be a whig, and
one of them discharged his piece at him, but without effect. The good man, conscious of no guilt,
and probably not perceiving that the shot was directed to him, only looked about at them, and did
not offer to move; the soldiers immediately came
up to him, and without even asking a single question at him, struck him on the head with their
swords, and killed him on the spot." This, as
narrated by Wodrow, shows the fearful lengths
to which the lawless soldiery in these times proceeded.
Smith affirmed that he was not reading the
Bible, and in the meantime cautiously dropped the
book into the bush, by the side of which he was
sitting. Instead, however, of harming him in any
way, Claverhouse deemed it better for the present
to press him into his service, and to oblige him, as
his pioneer, to conduct the party to the Clauchrie.
It must have been a sore trial to Smith, to be thus
forced to guide the enemy to a house in which
they expected to capture a number of innocent
persons who were engaged in the worship of God,
and with whom he himself would doubtless have
been, had he known that the meeting was to take
place. Being compelled to proceed, he advanced
with a heavy heart, meditating no doubt by what
possible means he could make his elopement. As
they were moving along, a black heavy cloud came
sailing over the clear disk of the moon, and enveloped the party in thick darkness; and Smith, embracing the opportunity of the temporary obscuration, turned round unperceived, and secreted




130             TRADITIONS OF
himself in the heart of a tall bush of broom. In
his perplexity Providence thus unlocked a door by
which he both obtained his own liberty, and was
delivered from the distressful predicament of being
the leader of the enemy to the house of unsuspect.
ing friends.  " God is faithful, who will not suffer
you to be tempted (tried) above what ye are able
but will with the temptation (trial) also make a
way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."
The yearnings of this man's heart were known to
God, and his silent and fervent prayer was inot
despised; and he who, but a few moments before,
was indebted to the bright countenance of the
moon which shone full upon him, and by the aid
of which his eye was able to scan here and there
a word of grace, was now no less indebted for the
hiding of the same countenance behind the sable
curtain of the clouds; and thus it is that light and
shade in the Christian life are equally blessed of
God for the spiritual benefit of his people. Having
missed their guide, the dragoons were in a great
rage, and beat about among the bushes in strict
search of the fugitive. So closely did they environ the bush in which he was concealed, that he
sometimes felt as if the horses' feet were touching
him.  Finding, however, their search to be in
vain, they became quite uproarious, and Claverhouse gave orders to shoot at random among the
bushes.  The cries of the soldiers, and the loud
report of tie fire-arms, alarmed the people at the
Clauchrie, who, suspecting that the enemy was
near, consulted their safety by a speedy retreat
from  the place.  Smith kept his station in the
bush, and, though the shots were flying thick, he
remained uninjured.  The enemy at length retired without gaining their object and proceeded to




THE COVENANTERS.             131
the Clauchrie, where they found nobody, they
themselves having communicated due warning of
their approach, and afforded the meeting time to
disperse.  In this wonderful way did Providence
defeat the designs of the wicked; and Smith, who
deemed himself particularly unfortunate in being
obliged to conduct the troopers to the evening
conventicle, was the cause, by means of his accidental escape, of giving notice to the meeting before the threatened danger fell upon them.  Had
Claverhouse not met with Smith, there is every
likelihood that the people at the Clauchrie would
have been surprised by the soldiers, and not a few
perhaps might have lost their lives.  This circumstance, then, which at the time this good man
judged to be a great calamity, turned out in the
end to be a great deliverance.
In the vicinity of Dalswinton, and contiguous
to Closeburn, was a certain house in which the
pious nonconformists of that neighbourhood usually
held their meetings for prayer. This house was
situated on a rising ground, from which a view of
a considerable extent was obtained.  When the
meetings were convened in the day-time, watches
were stationed on the top of the house, to give
opportune and prompt warning, in case of the approach of the enemy, by whom visits were paid
at the most unexpected seasons. Below the floor
of the house there was a secret recess, capable of
holding about a dozen of persons at a time, the
mouth of which was closed with a flat stone.
This place was a convenient and safe retreat
when at any time those under hiding were surprised by the dragoons. It happened one night,
when a number of pious persons were met for the
purpose of religious conversation and prayer, that




132             TRADITIONS OF
a company of troopers suddenly surrounded the
dwelling. The arrival of the soldiers threw all
into confusion, and there was no opportunity of
effecting a retreat to the receptacle below, for the
intruders were on the floor of the apartment before
the inmates were aware.  There was in the ashpit beneath the grate, which at that time in all
probability stood in the centre of the room, a great
quantity of peat ashes of a light dusty nature, and
easily put in motion.  When the soldiers were
crowding into the place, and all was in commotion, a young woman belonging to the household
lifted a large water-pitcher, and hastily dashed its
contents among the ashes and on the fire-place.
In an instant, a dense and suffocating cloud of
dust and smoke filled the chamber, the effect of
which was as startli-ng and confounding to the
dragoons as if a bomb-shell had exploded among
their feet.  In the uproar, while the soldiers were
rubbing their scalding eyes, and coughing, and
stamping, and groping with their hands, not being
able to distinguish friend from foe, the entire
party, with the exception of one individual, made
their escape. This individual was a young man,
who was wounded by a musket-shot, and seized
on the spot. He bled profusely, but the wound
was not mortal, and he was afterwards conveyed
to Edinburgh, where, it is said, he was tried and
executed. Tradition has not preserved his name,
otherwise we might be able to recognise him
among the sufferers whose tale is recorded by the
historian. The very high esteem in which this
young person was held by his pious friends and
neighbours, was displayed by them in a very extraordinary way. A number of females assembled
on the spot where he was wounded, and, in order




THE COVENANTERS.              133
to testify their regard for him, they stained their
snow-white handkerchiefs in his crimson blood,
and preserved them as precious memorials of one
who was held in universal admiration. This incident is a proof of the powerful attachment which
the friends of religion in those days cherished for
one another.  They lived in times of common
peril, and persecution operated as a tie which
bound them in closer union, and which quickened
the pulse of Christian sympathy, and sent it with
a fuller throb throughout the suffering body of the
faithful. The spirit of a heavenly kindness is the
spirit of a genuine Christianity, and the love of
the brethren is the distinguishing badge of true
discipleship: " By this shall all men know that ye
are my disciples, if ye love one another."
In the parish of Irongray, a few miles from
Dumfries, there lived, in the times of the sufferings of the church of Christ in Scotland, a Mr.
Welch, laird of Scar, who was much harassed for
his noncomformity by those who in those days
swayed the rod of oppression in the land. Iron.
gray was the scene of the ministerial labours of
the famous John Welch, grandson of " the incomparable John Welch of Ayr," whose ministry, in
the times immediately after the Reformation, was
attended with eminent success in the west of
Scotland, and which made the good Mr. Dickson,
minister of Irvine, frequently say, "' that the grape
gleanings at Ayr, in Mr. Welch's time, were far
above the vintage at Irvine in his own time."
The secret of this holy man's success in the gospel, seems to have been his fervent and incessant
prayers; for it is recorded of him, " that a distressing languour pervaded his frame, together
with a great weakness in his knees, caused by his
12




134             TRADITIONS OF
continual kneeling at prayer, in consequence of
which, though he was able to move them, and to
walk, the flesh of them became hard and insensible, like a horn." And no wonder, when we consider that he often spent whole nights in prayer,
in the church of Ayr.  His grandson in Irongray
was in every respect worthy of so illustrious an
ancestor.  The laird of Scar, here referred to,
was in all likelihood a branch of the same family,
as the Welches were descended from the house of
Collieston in Irongray; and if so, he appears to
have inherited the religious independence which
characterised  his pious kindred.  Mr Welch of
Scar, then, was an individual on whom his enemies were determined to lay their hands on the
very first opportunity; and accordingly, a party
of sold.ers was one day sent to his house for the
purpose of apprehending him.  The worthy man
happened to be accompanying his servant, who
was ploughing in a field, in the vicinity of his residence, when the dragoons made their appearance.  Mr. Welch intimated his suspicions to his
servant, and his fears respecting the possibility of
escape.  The servant, who seems to have been an
intrepid man, and one who was more solicitous
about his master's safety than his own, proposed
instantly to unyoke the horses, and that Mr.
Welch should ride home, as if he were the servant, and in no fear of meeting with the dragoons,
while he, on the other hand, should flee toward
the hill, in the full view of the soldiers, as if he
were the person in quest of whom they had come.
The proposal was acceded to by the laird, who
proceeded leisurely homewards with the horses,
while the ploughman betook himself with all speed
to the neighbouring height. The scene was wit.




THE COVENANTERS.               135
nessed by the troopers, who, concluding that the
fugitive was the man they sought, instantly set
out in pursuit.  M'Lauchrie, for that was the
servant's name, pursued his way through  the
underwood, and along the by-paths on the slope
of the hill, till he reached the summit, where he
was concealed in a dense mist, which was hovering on the top of the rising ground. In this way,
both master and servant escaped; for the soldiers
having missed their object, rode off, without visiting the dwelling-house, thinking it needless to
search the nest when the bird was flown. A good
man like Mr. Welch could not fail to reward the
generous conduct of his servant, who, by this
stratagem, delivered him from those who sought
his life.  He accordingly repaid him  with a favourable lease of the farm of Glenkill, on his own
estate, in which place the M'Lauchries continued
to reside till a very recent period. Men are seldom losers by self-denial and disinterested behaviour; they have the approbation of their own
minds, the approbation of their fellow-men, and,
what is infinitely more, the approbation of God.
This man, whose desire it was to serve his master,
a man whom he loved, and loved in all probability
because he was one of Christ's people, and for
whose safety he was prepared to make no small
sacrifice, was afterwards rewarded with a comfortable settlement in life, which he not only enjoyed
to the end of his days, but his posterity also for
several generations after him.  What became of
Mr. Welch afterwards, or how he succeeded in
eluding the vigilance of his enemies, is not said;
but it appears that his house was frequently ransacked and plundered by the soldiers who came in
search of him, and who on one occasion, when




136            TRADITIONS OF
they could find nothing else, carried off the do.
mestic fowls, declaring they would not leave on
the premises of Scar so much as a crowing cock.
This godly man, however, who was actuated by
the spirit of a true follower of Christ, and had
counted the cost of following such a master, in
the days of peril and of plunder, would no doubt
take joyfully the spoiling of his goods for the sake
of Him' who, though he was rich, yet for our
sakes became poor, that we through his poverty
might be made rich.'
In addition to the incidents now mentioned, relative to the providential deliverances experienced
by the people of God, in the time of the church's
affliction, another anecdote may here be given.
The parish of Balmaclellan in Galloway, contiguous to Dalry, was frequently infested by the
troopers, who went everywhere in search of the
nonconformists.  The minister of Balmaclellan,
whose name was Thomas Warner, would not submit to prelacy, and was therefore one of those
ejected by the act of council at Glasgow, in 1662.
He was not the only preacher, who in that part
of the country remained firm to the Presbyterian
interest; for his immediate neighbours, John Sem.
ple of Carsefairn, John M'Michan of Dalry, and
John Cant of Kells, were equally devoted to the
same cause, and were subjected to the same treatment. It may easily be conceived that the united
labours of these good men, in these four contiguous
parishes, would have a mighty influence on the
population in that inlald district, and that a good.
ly host of pious persons would be reared under
their ministry, to bear testimony to the truth in
the day of trial. This fully accounts for the
often-repeated visits of the soldiers, who were sent




THE COVENANTERS.              137
in frequent detachments to this locality.  And it
is worthy of remark, that the number of witness.
es in Scotland was fully as great in many of
the landward parts, as in the populous towns, and
these not merely collected in the desert by flight
from persecution, but actually bred there, and
nurtured by the words of truth and sound doctrine, through the instrumentality of the holy men
whom the Head of the church had placed in these
retired situations, as we find that the greatest
men, both in point of talent and of sanctity, have
not uncommonly been so located.  It happened,
on one occasion, that a conventicle was to be held
at the Fell, in the parish of Balmaclellan. The
news of this intended gathering had spread abroad,
although with as much caution as possible, lest
tidings thereof should reach the ears of the enemy.
And tidings did reach their ears, by means of
some of those informers who were numerously
scattered over the country. A company of dra.
goons was therefore despatched from a neighbouring station, who were enjoined to disperse the
meeting, and, as usual, to seize the ringleaders.
This party, on their way to the conventicle, which,
it appears, was kept in the night season, lost their
road, and, meeting with a shepherd on the way,
they compelled him to conduct them to the Fell.
The shepherd consented, knowing that in the dark
he could easily make his escape, or, if he chose,
lead them into a snare, which would prevent their
intended mischief. The shepherd marched fore.
most as the leader of the party, who intrusted themselves entirely to his guidance. On their way to
the place there was a marshy piece of ground,
straight into the heart of which it was the intention of the shepherd to conduct them.  According
12 *




138            TRADITIONS OF
ly, having reached its margin, their guide directed
them to follow, and to keep as near him as possible.  He pushed forward on the soft and sinking surface, while they hilariously'followed, neither seeing nor suspecting any mischance, till the
whole company plunged to the saddle-girths in the
deep quagmire, from which a speedy extrication
was impossible. In this predicament the shepherd
left them uttering imprecations and threats of ven.
geance, while he proceeded with all haste to the
Fell, to warn the meeting of their danger. The
statement of the shepherd was readily believed,
and the conventicle was forthwith broken up.
Thus did the great Shepherd cast the shield of a
special protection over these few sheep in the wilderness, just at the time when the wolves were
about to enter the fold, to waste and destroy.
But the shepherds and humble peasantry were
not the only instruments in shielding from harm
the covenanters, who were, generally speaking,
of their own standing in society.  Those who
moved in a higher circle were sometimes employed by Providence in the same work. A party
of troopers were one day sent to the mansion of
Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, for the
purpose of demanding his assistance in searching
for whigs in his woods. It appears that the woods,
and heights, and linns, and cottages of Closeburn,
firnished shelter to many a wanderer, and afforded more ample scope to the strolling soldiery,
who spread themselves abroad in quest of those
who sought to maintain the privilege of worshipping God according to the dictates of their own
conscience.  The Rev. William  Black of Close.
burn, who was opposed to prelatic usurpation, and
therefore outed in the sixty-two, would no doubt




THE COVENANTERS.            139
be the means of diffusing throughout the parish
the spirit of nonconformity, and, what is more,
the spirit of true Christianity. Sir Thomas was
obliged to comply with the demand, and accompanied the soldiers into the woods.  In proceeding to the different localities which were supposed
to be resorted to as hiding-places by the covenanters, Sir Thomas pursued the nearer route, by the
narrow footpaths that led through the woods,
while the horsemen were obliged to take the more
circuitous roads. In winding his way among the
thick trees, Sir Thomas came upon a man fast
asleep by the side of the path before him. The
man was obviously one of the individuals whom
the soldiers had come to seek, but the gentleman,
in whose way Providence had thus placed him,
had too much humanity to publish his discovery.
Near the place where this person was reposing
on his grassy bed, under the guardianship of Him
who never slumbers nor sleeps, was a quantity
of newly-cut brackens, which Sir Thomas turned
over with his staff to cover the sleeping man from
the prying eyes of the troopers. The action was
observed by one of the horsemen, who cried out
that the guide was doing something suspicious;
but before any of the party got time to dismount,
and to investigate the matter, Sir Thomas turned
round, and in an indignant tone asked if he could
not be permitted to turn over the loose brackens
and withered leaves of the forest, without their
permission; and so the matter ended, and the
man remained undiscovered. This anecdote shows
the power which the military at that time assumed, and the insolence of the soldiery towards
even those who were their superiors. Gentlemen




140             TRADITIONS OF
and commoners were treated alike by the lawless
troopers, who were let loose on an oppressed
country.
CHAPTER X.
Fergussons, of Threerigs-Craigdarroch-Wilson, of Croglin-John Gillespie.
THE small estate of Threerigs, in the parish of
Glencairn, was, in the times of persecution, possessed by a worthy gentleman of the name of Fergusson, who died a few years prior to the Revolution.  This gentleman was related to the laird of
Craigdarroch, mentioned in a former paper. He
had two sons, Alexander and William, the former
of whom  was the heir of Threerigs.  The two
sons were nonconformists, and ardently attached
to the principles of civil and religious liberty. But
though they approved themselves the warm friends
of the oppressed, and abetted the suffering followers of Christ to the utmost of their power, it
does not appear that they were taken notice of before the year 1684.  The house of Caitloch in
Glencairn seems to have been a place of frequent
resort to the covenanters in those troublous times.
It was to this place that the Rev. John Blackadder
of Troqueer, near Dumfries, fled for refuge when
he was ejected from his parish. One day Alexander Fergusson, the eldest son of the laird of
Threerigs, paid a visit to Caitloch for the purpose
of meeting with any of the suffering party who




THEf COVENANTERS.             141
might happen to be there in concealment; and,
during his stay at this place, a company of troopers reached the neighbouring village of Minihive
on their way to Caitloch, and the parts adjacent,
in search of nonconformists. The pleasant village of Minihive lies in the midst of a sweet opening among the hills by which it is surrounded, and
commands a delightful variety of local scenery.
In the immediate vicinity of this secluded village
stands the ruin of the identical house in which
was born Renwick, the last of the martyrs, to
whose memory a handsome monument is erected
near the spot. It was to Minihive that one of
the sons of Mr. Blackadder, a boy of ten years of
age, fled naked in the night season, when the dragoons were plundering his father's house at a
short distance from the village. c I ran," he says,
" the length of half a mile in the dark night naked
to the shirt. I got to a neighbouring toune called
the Brigend of Minihive, where, thinking to creep
into some house to save my life, I found all the
doors shut, and the people sleeping;.upon which,
I went to the cross of the toune, and got up to the
uppermost step of it, and there I sat me down and
fell fast asleep till the morning.  Between five and
six a door opens, and an old woman comes out,
and seeing a white thing on the cross comes near
it, and when she found it was a little boy, cries
out, Jesus save us! what art thou? With that I
awoke, and answered her, I am Mr. Blackadder's
son.-Oh, my puir bairn, what brought thee
here?-I answers, There is a hantle of fearfull
men with red coats has burnt all our house, my
breether and my sister and all the family.-O,
puir thing, says she, come in and ly down in my




142             TRADITIONS OF
warm bed; which I did, and it was the sweetest
bed I ever met with."
Mr. James Brotherstones, minister of the parish
of Glencairn, in which Minihive is situated, was
ejected at the Restoration. He was consequently
one of those who remained firm to his principles,
both doctrinally and ecclesiastically, and not a few
of his parishioners followed his example, and some
of them  obtained the crown of martyrdom; of
whom it is unnecessary to take notice here, as
they have already obtained an honourable niche
in the page of the historian.
When the dragoons left Minihive, the first place
to which they proceeded was Caitloch; and having, it would appear, arrived rather unexpectedly, they seized a number of persons, among
whom  was Alexander Fergusson.  This little
band of captives was conducted to Minihive to undergo an examination before the authorities. Fergusson had in his pocket a number of musket
balls, which he scattered unnoticed among the
thick grass by the wayside, that he might divest
himself of every thing which, in the view of his
enemies, might be deemed suspicious. It happened
that the laird of Craigdarroch was among the examinators when the prisoners were introduced;
and seeing the son of his friend of Threerigs
among the rebels, he was deeply distressed at the
circumstance.  He was filly aware, that the
slightest evidence of his being a covenanter would
ensure the ruin of the fine young man who stood
before him, and perhaps the ruin of the whole
family.  Craigdarroch did not seem to recognise
him  as a kinsman, nor did Fergusson take any
notice of the laird.  They knew that anything
like a mutual recognition would be viewed in an




THE COVEINANTERS.            143
unfavourable light. Meanwhile Craigdarroch was
endeavouring to devise some means for the rescue
of his friend, and the plan which he formed was
successful.  He was sitting apparently at his ease,
and casting a careless look at the prisoners, when
all on a sudden, as if caught by surprise, he raised his voice in a loud and indignant tone, and
addressing Fergusson as if he had been his shepherd, exclaimed, " Sandy, what business have
you here? how came you to leave my sheep on
the hill without my permission? what right have
you to go strolling from house to house, exposing
yourself to danger in gratifying your taste for
silly gossiping? Begone, sir, begone instantly,
and attend more carefully to your flock, else you
may expect a quick dismissal from my service."
On his being accosted in this authoritative manner by his friend, Fergusson took the hint and
stole away as if ashamed under the weight of the
reproach which had been thus sharply administered. In this way the young laird of Threerigs
escaped the danger which was pending over him,
and he retired without interruption and without a
question being asked at him.  Some time after
this occurrance Craigdarroch met him, and congratulated him on his seasonable deliverance; at
the same time remarking, that great caution was
to be observed by him in his future movements.
"I am," said he, " as warmly attached to the
cause as you are, for it is the cause of liberty and
religion. I have been successful in effecting your
rescue by a very simple means on this occasion;
but should you happen again to be apprehended
and brought before these men, it will not be in my
power to deliver you a second time.  Information has been lodged against you as a suspected




144             TRADITIONS OF
person, and no means will avail to save you
should you now fall into the hands of your enemies; therefore, my young friend, look to your.
self." It appears that the family of Threerigs
showed very great kindness to the persecuted covenanters; there was a wood on the estate, in the
thickets of which numbers of the sufferers were
concealed, and fed by the family; and the know.
ledge of this circumstance eventually proved their
ruin.
The caution given by Craigdarroch  was not
without reason; nor were his apprehensions for
his friend's safety groundless. It soon became
publicly known that Alexander and his brother
had fully espoused the covenanting interest, and
the violent party took up the matter, and resolved
to bring the malcontents to punishment. Accordingly they were summoned before the superintend.
ents of the district, but, not choosing to appear,
they were declared rebels.  Their cattle and their
goods were seized, their house pillaged, and their
estate transferred to their neighbour, the laird of
Glencrosh. Being thus reduced to the greatest
straits, and destitute of all things but a good conscience and a good cause, they were obliged to retire with the rest of the wanderers to the wilds
and mountains for safety.  They had lost for
Christ's sake every thing they valued on earth but
their lives; and now  to preserve them, in an
honest and Christian  manner, was their chief
care. The privations to which they were subjected, and the trials they endured in common
with their Christian friends with whom they were
now obliged to wander from place to place, were
neither few nor small. It furnishes us with an
eminent proof of the power of the gospel on the




THE COVENANTERS.             145
heart, when we witness two young persons, in
comparative affluence, in  comfortable circumstances and with the prospect of rising in the
world, voluntarily renouncing all, that they might
" hold fast the profession of their faith without
wavering."  Nothing tests a man's religious sincerity more perfectly, than the call to the entire
renunciation of self and the world for the truth's
sake.  It was this which put the character of
Moses to the proof, as a believer in the God of his
fathers, when he might have enjoyed the highest
honours in the land of Egypt; but he " refused to
be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing
rather to suffer affliction with the people of God,
than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than
the treasures of Egypt; for he had respect to the
recompense of reward."
Alexander Fergusson, though exposed to manifold hardships during the few years that remained
of the persecution from  the time of his open
avowal of his profession, nevertheless escaped the
merciless hands of his persecutors, and lived many
years after the Revolution, though he did not regain the possession of his estate.  The fate of his
brother William, however, was somewhat harder.
His name is found in Wodrow's list of those who,
in 16S4, were declared fugitives; ", William Fergusson, son to the deceased William Fergusson,
of Threerigs."  He was, on one occasion, when
wandering in the parish of Tynron, hotly pursued
by a company of dragoons, who observed him
lurking near the road along which they were tra.
velling. He fled to the base of a huge rock called
Craigturrach, with a view to ascend the rugged
precipice. One of the troopers having dismounted,.
13




146             TRADITIONS OF
followed him, and fired upon him as he was climbing the giddy eminehce.  Having missed his aim,
however, he flew to the rock, and mounting its
beetling front, with nimble hands and feet reached
the summit in equal time with the fugitive. The
merciless trooper, on nearing him, struck him a
furious blow with his pistol, and overpowered
him.  He then brought him  a prisoner to the
party at the bottom of the hill, who gave him up
to the proper authorities, by whom he was banished to America, from which exile he never returned. It must have been very painful to these
pious and aflectionate brothers to be thus separated by the rude hand of persecuting violence.
They were all that was dear to each other on
earth;-they were sufferers in the same common
cause of goodness, they had an interest in the
same heaven, where all their hopes and wishes
centered; and there, in that land of peace, when
all their toils and wanderings on earth should terminate, they expected to rest together.  How
sweet is the idea of rest to the weary! and how
surpassingly sweet is the thought of the heavenly
rest to God's weary heritage! The church of
Christ may, in times of tribulation, be like a solitary bark tossed on the tumultuous billows of a
troubled sea, and every moment ready apparently
to be ingulphed in the raging flood; but still she
sinks not; for though she seems to descend to the
depths below, anon she is seen heaving on the
crest of the wave. An invisible hand upholds her,
the Lord is in the ship; and though he appear to
be asleep, when " the heathen rage, and the people
imagine a vain thing, when the kings of the earth
set themselves, and the rulers take counsel to.
gether against the Lord and against his Christ,"




THE COVENANTERS.             147
yet he will rise up in the greatness of his might,
and with the majesty of a God will rebuke the
winds and the waves, and there shall be a great
calm.  Heaven, however, is the only haven of
repose to which the church of God can look, and
where she is to expect a quietude without interruption and without end.
Fergusson of Craigdarroch, though he did not
go the full length of his kinsmen of Threerigs in
the avowal of his principles, was always friendly
to the covenanters; and when it was in his power,
he uniformly shielded them from the vengeance
of their enemies. It was his custom, it is said, to
ride almost every day to some part of the district
in which he resided, to gather what information
he could respecting the situation of the persecuted,
and then to lay his plans for their defence accordingly. He always rode armed, according to the
custom of the times, that he might be prepared for
any emergency.  One day, as he was proceeding
into the country on horseback, he met near Maxwelton a small party of whigs in full flight before
a party of dragoons. There was in their way a
gate called Etone ligget, through which the fugitives had passed; and the troopers, as they approached this place, were encountered by Craigdarroch, who kept them  in check for a time, till
the objects of their pursuit were out of danger.
Having gained his purpose, he turned his swift
steed, and, crossing the river Cairn at a place
called the Gaps Mill, escaped.  The dragoons
being strangers in the neighbourhood, did not
know who their opponent was, and the circumstance was not discovered.  The action was a
daring one, both as it subjected him to great personal risk at the time, and as it exposed him, had




148             TRADITIONS OF
he been recognised, to the full vengeance of the
ruling party. This anecdote bears a strong re.
semblance to the one told of the same gentleman
in a former publication, and the probability is that
they both refer to the same incident.  The fact,
however, is illustrative of the good will which this
worthy man bore to the oppressed cause of freedom and religion, and of his readiness, when circumstances permitted, to render those who suffered in this cause effective assistance.
Some of the descendants of the Fergussons of
Threerigs, who lost all their worldly property for
their conscientious adherence to the cause of the
covenant, are at present living in the neighbourhood of Sanquhar and Drumlanrig; and though
moving in the humbler walks of life, reflect no discredit on their pious ancestry.
Wilson, of Croglin, in the parish of Tynron,
was a man of a kindred spirit with Craigdarroch.
He never openly avowed his attachment to the co.
venanting cause, but he cherished a strong sympathy with the sufferers, and endeavoured, with.
out risk to himself, to serve them to the utmost of
his power.  He was a Justice of the Peace, and
was therefore well acquainted with the designs of
the party with which he was connected. His leniency to the sufferers was apparent from  the
methods he adopted to screen them  from  their
enemies.  The nonconformists in the parish of
Tynron were kept in a condition of comparative
safety, under his sheltering wings. In the fugitive
roll, given by Wodrow, there are several persons
named who belonged to that parish, and some of
them Croglin's own tenants, who were denounced
as rebels, or guilty of reset; and yet it is believed
that not one of them  was brought to trouble,




THE COVENANTERS.              149
owing, it is said, to the good management of
Croglin. It was the practice of this benevolent
man to communicate, in a way as private and efficient as possible, any knowledge he possessed of
the designs of the persecutors respecting the sufferers.  It was his custom, when he returned fiom
the meetings which were held in the district, to
walk into the kitchen at a certain hour of the
night, when the domestics had retired to rest, and
there, like the man in the wood of Eliok, to convey, by way of soliloquy, to what in the cottages
of Scotland is called the crook, or iron chain,
which is suspended in the inside of the chimney,
any information that might be of importance to
the covenanters.  Having stationed himself before
the fire-place, and touching the crook with the end
of his staff, he addressed it by the name of Hog
ma Drog, a kind of sobriquet which he employed
to save appearances, and said, "c Though we must
not tell the secrets of our counsel to any mortal
creature, yet, as thou art neither flesh nor blood,
I may tell thee, Hog ma drog;" and then, patting
on the pendent chain gently with his staff, uttered
what he wished to communicate respecting the
projected movements of the enemy.  During his
speech to the crook, a male servant was, by
agreement, uniformly concealed in a retired corner, where he could hear distinctly every word
spoken by his master. This man, a trusty servant, carried without loss of time the news to the
parties immediately concerned, who were by this
means enabled to avoid the mischief plotted by
their enemies.  Such men as Fergusson  and
Croglin were of inestimable service to the oppressed remnant; they stood between the two parties, and, while they ostensibly belonged to the
13 *




150            TRADITIONS OF
one party, they in heart and in principle belonged
to the other.  This medium  sort of party was
made use of by Providence to restrain the persecutors, on the one hand, or at least to counteract
their devices; and, on the other hand, to shield
the persecuted, and frequently, no doubt, to regulate their procedure. These persons were held in
high esteem by the nonconformists, even though
they did not go the whole length of their views,
nor assume that decided and fearless stand which
they themselves had done. There are some men
who want the moral courage to proceed the full
length to which their principles would naturally
conduct them;-their love of ease, their fear of
reproach, their concern for their personal safety,
and their solicitude about their worldly interests,
all combine to modify their views, and to persuade
them to adopt that more cautious policy which
will be attended with less risk to themselves.
How far such conduct receives the Divine approbation is another question.  It is obvious, that a
firm and honest mind will stoutly follow the line
of duty, reckless of all anticipated results, and
will leave consequences entirely with Him whose
commands, apart from every prudential consideration, must be promptly obeyed.  When conscience and duty call, we are not to sit down to
make the previous caiculation how  far a compliance with the call will either injure or promote
our worldly interests, and then to shape our pro.
cedure accordingly.  No, with the simplicity of
little children, we must just do what God bids us
indifferent to all that may befall us, knowing that
he will make all things work together for good to
them that love him. In those persecuting times,
however, the want of decision on the part of not a




THE COVeNANTERS.             151
few arose, probably, from  a partial ignorance of
the nature and bearings of the great principles for
which the covenanters contended; and this being
the case, the importance of their cause would not
be felt with that pressure of conviction which
would thrust them forward into the ranks of those
who were disinterestedly sacrificing their all for
the sake of the truth.  They deserve to be remembered with gratitude, who in any way assisted our oppressed forefathers when they were
persecuted for righteousness' sake; but they deserve to be remembered with honour, who, " for
conscience towards God, endured grief, suffering
wrongfully."
In addition to these anecdotes, the story of
John Gillespie may here be given.  This man
lived at a place called the " water meetings," in
Crawford-moor.  Even in this wild district a garrison was stationed in 1684, for the purpose of
suppressing the conventicles that were being held
in that remote wilderness.  The Rev. Gilbert
Hamilton, of Crawford, was a nonconformist, and
it is likely that his ministry was attended with so
much success, as to be the means of rearing not a
few witnesses for the cause of the Reformation.
Garrisons were at the time become very common in
the south and west, though they became still more
so a few years afterwards. Two were placed in
Carsfairn, and one at Caitloch, besides the one
just mentioned. These were intended not only
to keep their respective localities in order, but also
to hem in the south and north of Nithsdale. They
were supplied with a certain number of foot and
horse, ready at all times to sally forth at a moment's warning; so that much of Scotland was,
as Wodrow remarks, as if it had been a country




152             TRADITIONS OF
conquered by the enemy.  The country people
were greatly harassed by the soldiers passing between the garrisons, and many of the murders in
the open fields were perpetrated by these strolling
parties; and this probably may account for the
graves that are to be seen in the moors and on
the mountains, of which no person in the present
day knows anything further, than that they are
reported to be the graves of covenanters. In these
deserts many a martyr probably sleeps in his
shroud, unknown alike to history and to tradition.
These garrisons were, for the most part, the
head-quarters of a licensed banditti, who lived in
a great measure on the plunder of the peaceable
inhabitants.
John Gillespie was not a covenanter, but then
he was not a malignant.  He could feel for suf.
fering humanity, and was ready to embody his
sympathy in deeds.  One cold winter evening,
when the storm was descending on the moorlands,
and the drifting snow was beginning to be piled
in heaps by the eddying winds, our shepherd was
busily engaged in gathering his flock to a place of
safety on the waste.  On such occasions the occupation of a shepherd is anything but a sinecure;
he has to face the roaring of the tempest, and the
suffocating drift, when others are snugly seated by
the blazing hearth, luxuriating in the comfortable
feeling of a complete security from the raging of
the blast without.  In the hilly districts the storms
of winter sometimes visit the desert rather unexpectedly.  The heavy flakes of snow begin to fall
through the still and oppressed atmosphere, then
the wind rises in fitful gusts, and at length blows
with terrific fury, pouring the light drift in smoky
streams along the heath, till flocks, and cottages,




THE COVENANTERS.            153
and all are occasionally buried beneath the pow.
dering heap.  It was when one of these blasts
was beginning to rise, a little before the evening
dusk, that John Gillespie observed two men, apparently fugitives, take refuge under the sheltering
brow of a deep moss hag.  It was his conviction
that they courted this retreat, as much as a hidingplace from their pursuers, as a covert from the
storm.  He did not, however, approach them,
fearing lest strolling parties from the neighbouring garrison might be at hand, who might bring
him  into trouble if they chanced to see him
holding intercourse with wanderers.  When he
came home, and had laid aside his snow-clad
plaid, and was stretching his shivering limbs on
the hearth before a blazing pile of peats, that expelled the winter's cold from the homely apart.
ment, he informed his wife of what he had seen
in the moss.  " Why then did you not bring them
home with you," said she, " the storm is gathering apace, and the men must perish ere the morning."  " I durst not venture near them," replied
he, " nor speak to them for fear of the dragoons,
who, I suspect, were pursuing them."   " The
troopers will not continue long out on such a
night," answered she, " and, with your leave, I
will go and fetch them  to the house."  The
danger in this case was lest, on the morrow, a
search should be made in the cottage, and lest ensnaring questions should be put to the shepherd
respecting the fugitives.  To obviate this difficulty
it was agreed, that if the men should be brought
to the house, Gillespie should not see them, nor
converse with them, but should retire by himself
to some private place in the cottage till they should
go to rest, and that they should depart in the




154             TRADITIONS OF
early morning. Gillespie's wife then hastened to
the moor, and brought the two men from their
cold retreat in the moss.  They accepted the
shelter of the shepherd's dwelling with grateful
hearts, and could not but observe the conduct of
a kind Providence in leading them by the hand to
a comfortable habitation. They were kindly entertained in the lowly dwelling; and having returned thanks to the Preserver of their lives, tnd
sought a blessing on those whose hearts the Lord
had disposed to show them kindness in the day of
their distress, they retired to rest, and left the
storm  to spend its fury on the waste.  On the
morrow they arose with the dawn, and having
engaged in the worship of God with the shepherd's household, he himself abiding in conceal.
ment, they departed from the hospitable hut to
seek a retreat at a greater distance from danger.
It was not long after they had departed, how.
ever, till a party of dragoons arrived at Gillespie's
house in search of the men who on the preceding
evening had taken refuge in the moss. The leader
of the company is said to have been a Captain
Stewart, who asked the shepherd if he had seen
or conversed with the men of whom they were in
quest.  He acknowledged that he saw two men
such as they described, wandering in the moss in
the dusk when the snow  was beginning to fall,
but that he went not near them, nor had any intercourse with them, and that he knew not where
they were.  All this the shepherd could honestly
affirm, and as he was known to be no covenanter,
he had no doubt that his statements would be received. In looking about the dwelling, however,
the commander observed a large Bible lying open,
as if it had been recently perused. This excited




THE COVENANTERS.              155
suspicion, ana he concluded that Gillespie was
now become a religionist, and this single circumstance, as he imagined, amply justified him in
making him his prisoner.  It was certainly a melancholy state of things, when the mere perusal
of the word of God was deemed enough to attach
to a man the character of a rebel. The suppression of true religion seemed as much the object
of the persecutors, as the suppression of Presbyterianism. They were a class of men who hated the
very semblance of godliness, and who would have
rejoiced to see the land overspread with irreligiousness and profanity. They were for the most part
wicked men themselves, and therefore they could
not tolerate in others the existence of that which
operated as a severe and incessant reproach of
their own ungodliness.
Honest John Gillespie was made prisoner, and
tried on no other charge than the finding of an
open Bible in his house. The trial, however, issued in his favour; for, however unreasonable the
men who sat in judgment in such causes might be,
there were frequent cases brought before them,
which even irrationality itself had not the effrontery to condemn. The shepherd was dismissed,
and he returned to his quiet occupation in the
moorlands, and was left to his own prudence how
to conduct himself with respect to the suffering
wanderers.
On this occasion he was put to some trcuble,
but Providence prevented him from suffering unjustly. He had shielded two of the homeless
followers of Christ on the night of the storm, and
the Lord shielded him in turn from the storm of
persecuting rage which was about to burst on his
defenceless head, and he was permitted to visit




156             TRADITIONS OF
his habitation in peace.  How  he acted after.
wards, whether he left the prelatic church and
joined the suffering party, is not known; but it is
not improbable that the incident which befell him
tended to rouse him to reflection, and induced him
to balance in his mind the claims of the respective parties; in which case, it is not difficult to see
in what direction his convictions would lean. It
would be gratifying, no doubt, to ascertain the subsequent history of many of those, the incidents
of whose life tradition has preserved; and there can
be little question, that the result in most cases
would be very pleasing. In writing a full and
even-handed history of the church of God, it
would be necessary to take up religion, as it existed in the cottages, and not merely to delineate
the character and proceedings of eminent men and
church courts. Our ecclesiastical notices hitherto
may be compared to the geographical sketches
which a traveller professes to give of a country,
and in which he describes chiefly its prominent
features and lofty mountains, and the storms which
play around their summits, while he leaves out
of its topography the lowly valleys, the fertile
plains, the lovely glens, and the peaceful hamlets.
Justice therefore has not yet been done to the re.
ligious history of our land in reference to the times
that are past, and probably cannot now be done,
as the memorials of the piety that has existed in
the humble walks of life have not been retained,
and materials enow cannot now be gathered, from
which to construct a regular narrative. The statistics of religion in every church, congregation, and
household of those who fear God, have yet to be
made out, before a satisfactory estimate can be taken of the amount of real godliness in the land.




THE COVENANTERS.              157
CHAP. XI.
South Mains-The Spy- The Galloway Flail.
THE farm-house of South Mains, in the vicinity
of Sanquhar, stands on an elevated sand-bank, at
the base of which flows Nith's' fair flood,' and the
greater part of whose gravelly heap has, in the
lapse of ages, been washed away by the stream.
From this house, directly across the river, the eye
rests on the beautiful. lands which were once the
possession of the Rosses of Ryehill, a family which,
in ancient times, was of great note in this part of
Nithsdale.
South Mains borders on the richly-wooded lands
of Eliock, which, as was remarked in a former publication, were possessed by Dalziel of Carnwath,
who kept a small troop of dragoons at Eliock
house. There was in Dalziel's household a male
servant who favoured the covenanters, and who
took every occasion of being serviceable to them.
As he waited constantly on his master, he had
ample opportunities of knowing the plans which
were fiequently concerted at the festive board respecting the sufferers.  When the party became
hilarious at their wine, their designs were freely
unfolded, without the slightest suspicion that any
one was listening who was likely to communicate
that information which would ultimately defeat
their measures.  It was the care of this man, however, to notice every thing that was said or whispered respecting the persons whom it was his wish
to shield from the premeditated vengeance of their
14




158             TRADITIONS OF
enemies; but whether this was done from a wellprincipled sympathy with their cause, or merely
from  a sympathy with their sufferings as unoffending persons, is not said.  There is a little
streamlet, called the Carple burn, which takes its
rise in the dark moorlands on the south, and gurgles through the pleasure-grounds of Eliock, till it
discharges itself into the Nith. The banks of this
sweet rivulet are in some places deeply shaded
with wood, and must, in former times, have fur.
nished a tolerably secure retreat as a place of concealment.  On the margin of the brook there
grew a large tree which wreathed " its fantastic
roots" among the stones and shelving rocks which
overhung its channel.  At the root of this tree
there was a hollow place sufficiently roomy to
contain at least one person without his being
readily observed. This place, it would appear,
was, when any of the covenanters were in the
neighbourhood, at a certain time of the day, uniformly occupied by one of their number. It was
not, however, so much for the purpose of concealment that this little cell was resorted to, as for the
purpose of receiving information from the domestic
servant respecting the projected movements of the
dragoons.  It had been agreed on between this
friendly man and the suffering party that he
should, at a stated hour, come to the tree, and
that, when he had any thing of importance to
communicate, he should address the tree, and tell
it what he intended should be heard by the man
beneath.  The reason of this method of procedure
was, that the servants were, in all probability,
either laid under the obligation of an oath, or
strictly enjoined, under the penalty of the severest
punishment, not to divulge anything that they




THE COVENANTERS.               159
heard or knew of the intended proceedings of their
masters respecting the persecuted.  The severity
ofthe persecutors was well known to their domestics, who, though they were of their own party,
and in their pay, could not but observe the relentless tyranny and cruelty exercised toward a class
of pious and harmless men.  T'he fear of their
vengeance, therefore, would operate as a powerful
restraint in preventing their menials from holding
the most distant intercourse with the intercommuned party.  It appears, therefore, that this
method was adopted for the purpose of a more
successful evasion of any ensnaring questions that
might happen to be put to him. He spoke to the
tree; he accosted no man; and, in addressing
his discourse to a deaf tree, he might think that
he was not responsible if, perchance, his speech
should be heard by a listening ear. Even in this,
however, there was danger; for among the thickets there might be more listening ears than one,
and ears that were wide open to every suspicious
whisper; so that no soliloquy in the grove, however apparently incidental and undesigned, would,
if it partook of the nature of a divulging of
secrets, be permitted to pass with impunity. The
conduct of this man seems to have been very disinterested, when he exposed himself to no small
hazard in his honest endeavours to convey warning to those over whose innocent heads immninent
danger was pending; but the blessing of him who
was ready to perish would come upon him.  One
day this servant understood, from  the discourse
to which, owing to his official situation in the
family, he was permitted to listen, that the dragoons were, on a time specified, to visit certain
localities in the neighbourhood, where he knew a




160             TRADITIONS OF
certain number of covenanters were in concealment at the moment.  He felt concerned for their
safety, and longed for the arrival of the usual hour
at which he was accustomed to visit the tree.
When the  time  came, he proceeded with all
speed and secrecy to the appointed place; and
stationed himself near the root of the tree, under
whose hollow trunk he perceived that there lay in
silence and concealment one of the party in whose
welfare he was interested. Having stood, as may
be supposed, for a while in an apparently careless
and idle manner, like a person who had arrived
at the spot by mere accident; and having, by
cautious observation and attentive listening, satisfied himself that nothing suspicious was near, he
began, in a low but audible voice, to address the
tree. cc 0 fair and stately tree, many a time have
I stationed myself, in meditative mood, under
your wide-spreading boughs and mantling foliage,
to listen to the murmuring of the gentle stream,
and to hear the delicious music poured from the
throats of the charming songsters that fill thy
leafy branches. I have come this evening to taste
anew these rich enjoyments; because it may hap
that to-morrow this time I shall be elsewhere, as
I shall be called to follow my master, with his
band of troopers, to pursue some of those unhappy
covenanters, who are understood to be lurking in
some place not far from  hence.  And so adieu,
my favourite tree; and may you stand unscathed
by the winds of heaven, and untouched by the
woodman's axe, till I visit you again."  In some
such cautious way did this trusty man convey the
information intended for him who occupied the
cavity underneath, and then withdrew  without
taking the slightest notice of him.  When the




THE COVENANTERS.             161
servant retired, the man crept from his hiding.
place, and stole away unperceived to his companions. He informed them of the designs of the
enemy, and they resolved on an immediate escape; and, before the dawn, they left their lurking-place.  In attempting a somewhat dubious
flight, they came to South Mains at an early hour,
and were admitted by the master of the house to
the shelter of his dwelling. Though tradition says
little regarding this man, yet the circumstance of
his having received under his roof a company of
men whose " names were cast out as evil," and
his having done this at the greatest risk to himself, would indicate the existence both of religion
and of humanity in his breast. Nor is it likely
that the men would have ventured to his abode,
and intrusted their secret to his keeping, if they
had not known him  to be one who favoured their
cause.  The name of the worthy farmer of South
Mains was William Hair; but though many such
are unknown to us, they are had in remembrance
with Him who has said, " Whosoever shall give
you a cup of water in my name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall not
lose his reward."'In the house of South Mains the wanderers
were kindly treated.  A  plentiful breakfast was
set before them, of which they partook with grateful hearts; and the more so, as their hunger was
generally appeased by a precarious meal; for
when one repast was received, they often could
not tell where the next was to come from.  As
they were partaking of the hospitable entertainment which was so seasonably and amply provided for them, a few dragoons fiom Eliock were
observed approaching the house.  Their first im14 




162             TRADITIONS OF
pression was, that their flight had been discovered,
and that the troopers came to apprehend them in
the farm-house.  The honest farmer, who plainly
foresaw the mischief that would befall both himself and his guests if their retreat should be found
out, hastily conducted them to the barn, and concealed them among the corn sheaves in the mow.
In a few moments the soldiers arrived, and demanded an interview  with the farmer.  With a
considerable degree of trepidation, which he attempted to hide the best way he could, the worthy
farmer appeared before them at the door.  ", We
have come," said they, "to buy corn for our
horses." This announcement restored the good
man to something like his usual composure, and
he led them to the barn to examine the heaps of
grain which lay on the floor.  When the dragoons entered, the poor men who were concealed
among the sheaves at the extremity of the barn
were filled with apprehension, and naturally irmagined that all was over. Their fears, however,
were partially allayed when they heard that the
errand on which the troopers were come was
corn, and not fugitives.  They lay, nevertheless,
in breathless anxiety, lest any incident should discover their retreat; and it was not till the men
had finally retired that their solicitude was fully
removed.  The soldiers departed peaceably, and
the men remained unnoticed.  Their situation,
however, was precarious; for had one of the dragoons dragged but a single sheaf of corn from the
mow to cast it to his horse, a circumstance which
might easily have occurred, their hiding-place
might have been revealed.  These good men
sometimes experienced deliverances in very unlikely circumstances; while in circumstances as




THE COVENANTERS.             163
unlikely they were at other times discovered and
captured by their enemies.
The following anecdote has a relation to the publishing of the Sanquhar Declaration, by Mr.Ren.
wick and his friends, 1685, on the occasion of the
accession of the Duke of York to the throne.  It
appears that this celebrated Declaration was countenanced by a convention of covenanters from all
parts of the west and south. An unusually deep interest was felt in reference to this manifesto, because it was dreaded that the land would be
overspread, not only with the prelatic abominations
already complained of and contended against, but
with what was even more to be dreaded, popish
idolatry in all its grossness. Among the many,
then, who took an interest in this matter, were the
men of Galloway, than whom sturdier covenanters
existed not in the country. A deputation from this
district, then, or else a company of well wishers, on
their own account, proceeded northwards to meet
Mr. Renwick at Sanquhar. Their route lay along
the beautiful banks of the Ken.  As they were
proceeding on their journey with little suspicion,
in the heart of a wild and hilly country, they were
informed that a spy, lurking in the neighbourhood,
was watching their movements. On receiving this
notice, they betook themselves to the more mountainous tracks, to escape observation.  The name
of the spy was Grier. He was formerly one of the
covenanters, and was well acquainted both with
them and their hiding-places.  He had renounced the covenant for a bribe, and, being well paid
by his employers, he was very assiduous in his
vocation.  These informers were, especially if
they were apostates, peculiarly detested. Their
employment was a degradation to humanity, and




164             TRADITIONS OF
even those in whose service they were engaged
could not but despise them. These active agents
of evil were always on the alert, for their temporal
interests were combined with success in their infamous calling.  One of the covenanting brethren,
named M'Lurg, happened to be journeying on the
west side of the river, not having yet joined his company; and observing the spy, he hid himself behind a rock.  In this situation he had ample opportunity of subjecting the man to his scrutiny, as
he happened to be near him.  As he passed the
hiding-place full in his view, he discovered that
he was an old acquaintance, and the very man
who had deserted their cause, and become their
vengeful and insidious enemy,-that he was the
informer who was the cause of so much anxiety
and distress to the nonconformists in the neighbourhood,-and that he was at that very moment
tracing the steps of him and his friends, with a
view to do them mischief.  It now occurred that
he had a fair opportunity of avenging the wrongs
which this unhappy man had been the means of
inflicting on the distressed remnant, who were subjected to the incessant harassings of their persecutors. He imagined that by shooting him on the
spot, he would perform a righteous deed, and be
the praiseworthy instrument of ridding the district
of an intolerable nuisance. Accordingly, he lifted
his musket to a level with his eye; and presenting
the fatal tube to the man's breast, he fired.  The
ball entered under the left arm, and passed through
the heart, and he fell dead on the heath. This
act, though performed by a zealous covenanter, is
pointedly to be condemned.  M'Lurg acted on a
mistaken principle, and was, doubtless, influenced
by the supposition that he was doing service to tho




THE COVENANTERS.             165
cause of Christ, in this way removing one of the
enemies of that cause; but no circumstance can
justify assassination; it is foul and flagrant murder, which no person who regards the authority of
the Divine law, or who holds the blood of his brother sacred, will dare to defend. Had the covenanters possessed the same views which we now
entertain respecting the treatment of the enemies
of religion, they would not in any instance have
avenged themselves in an objectionable way. It
must, however, be noticed, to the honour of the
great body of the covenanters, that occurrences of
this description were comparatively rare, and that,
when any incident of the kind did take place, it
was by no means generally approved of. The rejection of James M'Michael by the Societies for
killing the curate of Carsfairn, is a proof of this;
and even the murder of Archbishop Sharp, as
Wodrow shows, was an act which, by the friends
of the persecuted cause, was very generally condemned at the time. But, as was observed in a former paper, it is very easy for us who live in days of
religious quietude and safety, to moralize.' Oppression makes wise men mad.' And had we
lived in their times, and endured the same sufferings, it is questionable if, on the whole, we would
have acted our part so well. It is to be remarked
too, that among the covenanters there were not a
few who bore the character merely of patriots, and
the object which these men had chiefly in view
was to avenge the political wrongs of their country; and if on any occasion they stepped forward
from the ranks of their more Christian brethren,
and under the waving of their banners committed
injudicious and illegal acts, though with a good




166             TRADITIONS OF
design, the humane and pious part are not to be
implicated.
The slaughter of the informer took place not
far from  the Holm of Ken, a most delightful spot
near the upper extremity of the glen. It is a kind
of Eden in the midst of the wilderness, and far
removed from  the busy haunts of men.  When
M'Lurg saw that the man was slain, he left his
station behind the rock, and proceeded to strip
him of his armour, an article of great account in
those days.  Among other warlike implements,
he found in his possession a weapon called the
Galloway flail. What is termed the handstaffof
this instrument, was made of the tough and durable ash-wood, and about five feet in length. The
soople, or that part which strikes the barn-floor,
was formed of iron, and was about three feet long,
and had three joints. This flail was doubtless intended for warlike purposes by the man who
carried it, and must have been a formidable weapon when wielded by a muscular arm. By means
of the joints in its iron soople, it was, when vigorously applied, fitted like a thong to infold the body
of a man, and in this way was calculated to crush
the ribs, after the manner of a boa constrictor.
No swordsman could cope with an individual armed with this weapon. It could keep any aggressor at a distance. One stroke could shiver a
sword to pieces, and leave the person of the defenceless antagonist to be subjected to the same
treatment as a sheaf of corn on the barn-floor.
This instrument, if not new to M'Lurg, was at
least novel in its application to the purposes of
warfare. Its utility became instantly apparent,
and he carried it off with the determination to use
it as occasion  might require. When M'Lurg




THE CoVENANTERS.              167
joined his party, who were travelling along the
heights, all were loud in their praises of the flail,
as a most appropriate implement, when swung by
a brawny arm, to clear a goodly space around on
the field of conflict.  But they had little suspicion
that the value of their newly acquired weapon was
to be so soon tested. A small company of Lag's
men, who were traversing the hills in this direction,
happened to emerge somewhat suddenly from  a
narrow glen, right in the face of M'Lurg and his
party. Being thus confronted, a battle appeared
to be inevitable, and so the strife instantly commenced.  The number on both sides was nearly
equal, and neither party thought of flight.  In the
heat of the engagement it occurred to M'Lurg,
that now was the time for the exhibition of the
flail, and to ascertain if its value on the battle-field
was equal to its value on the barn floor. Accordingly, seizing the hand staff, and waving the soople
over his head, he magnanimously approached
the leader of the opposing party, and furiously
assailed him.  The onslaught was terrific, and
M'Lurg being a powerful and dauntless man,
formed with the gyrations of his thrashing instrument an ample circle around his person, within
the verge of which neither friend nor foe durst intrude. The soldiers were confounded at this novel
mode of warfare, which appeared to be both
sportive and serious. In a brief space, however,
M'Lurg succeeded in defeating the leader, who
received a fracture on the skull, and a broken arm.
This done, he turned in the same furious manner
on the soldiers in a body, and dealt his blows so
unmercifully, that the party betook themselves to
flight, and left the covenanters masters of the field.
Thls terminated a conflict, which probably might




168             TRADITIONS OF
have proved fatal to the wanderers, had it not
been for the incident of the flail. The little com.
pany were now left at leisure to pursue, without
interruption, their way to the meeting at San.
quhar. In those times of peril and bloodshed, the
desert was often as dangerous as the well fre.
quented highway, so that in no place could people
be considered in perfect safety from the intrusion
of their enemies. In their track through the wil.
derness they passed some points of scenery in.
comparably fine, especially the view fiom Shinnel
waterhead.  The result of the meeting at Sanquhar has been detailed in a former publication,
and therefore farther notice of it is unnecessary.
The Galloway flail is particularly mentioned as
an implement of warfare, in an ancient Gallowvi.
dian ballad, entitled the battle of Craignilder,
published a few years ago by Captain Denniston.
In one of the notes appended to that publication,
the author makes the following remarks — " The
Galloway flail must have been a formidable weapon when wielded by a muscular arm; it is
described, if we mistake not, by Henry the min.
strel, and seems to have been a weapon indigenous to the country, as several old writers
mention it by that name.  We had the fortune to
see one, reported to have been taken out of Dumbarton castle; it was in a museum collected by
the ingenious Mr Burrell in Edinburgh, about
twenty-five years ago. In so far as our recollec.
tion of it is to be depended on, its staff might have
been about five feet in length, the soople about
three and a half or four feet, and joined with
iron rings, either in one or two places, so that
it doubled with resistless force over any inter



THE COVENANTERS.              169
posing object." The lines of the ballad to which
this note is appended, are the following:
"With vengeful speed fierce Douglas flew,
Where rang the swingingflail, man."
CHAP. XII.
James Nivison, of Closeburn Mill-Wonderful Escapes.
THE farm  of Closeburn mill was, in the times
of persecution, tenanted by James Nivison, a man
of a saintly character, and of unbending integrity.
His house was an occasional resort to the wander.
ers that frequented the district.  The curate of
Closeburn had no good will to this worthy man,
and he sought every opportunity to injure him.
James refused to attend his church-a circumstance which gave unpardonable offence to that
prelatic underling, and he failed not to lodge
information against him as being a disaffected and
disloyal person.  He had one friend in the parish,
however, in the person of Sir Thomas Kilpatrick,
whose lenity to the sufferers that crept into the
woods and glens near him, was displayed on various occasions. When the worthy knight learned
the determination of the curate respecting James
Nivison, knowing the vindictive disposition of
the man, he entreated James to yield so far as
to consent to enter the church, though it were only
to go in by the one door and out by the other.
With this, however, he would by no means com.
ply, alleging that it would be a compromise of his
15




170            TRADITIONS OF
principles to yield even this apparently trifling
matter.  The knight could not but admire the
firmness and honesty of purpose displayed by this
virtuous man in a case in which he deemed his
conscience concerned. Anxious, however, to protect his tenant, he made another proposal, and
assured him, if he would come only to the " kirkstile," it might still be in his power to save him;
but Nivison continued firm in his determination,
and even went so far as to declare, that if the
turning of a straw, in obedience to the unprincipled rulers of the time, would save him from
trouble, he would not comply. He was resolved
to follow what he conceived to be the plain line of
his duty, and to preserve a good conscience whatever might betide. This decision of mind, which
some may probably be inclined to call obstinacy,
did not lessen him in the estimation of the laird
of Closeburn, who determined, since he could
make no more of it, to communicate to his honest
tenant whatever he knew of the designs of the enemy respecting him, and by this means to afford
him an opportune warning of the danger that
threatened him.
Sir Thomas had a domestic servant, whose
leanings towards the covenanters were no secret to
his master, and him he instructed to understand
the import of certain signs, by which, when he
could not hold conversation with him, he wished
to communicate the designs formed against the
covenanters who at the time might happen to
be lurking in the neighbourhood, and especially
against his friend James Nivison.  When therefore any proposal was made to Sir Thomas to
lend assistance to the persecutors in searching the
woods and linns on his estate for persons under




THE COVENANTERS.             171
hiding, information of the circumstance was instantly communicated by means of the servant to
Nivison, and others concerned.  In this way
much mischief was prevented, and the purposes
of the enemy in many instances defeated.  When
these occasional warnings were given to Nivison,
he had one place of resort to which he generally
fled, and this was the darkly wooded sides of
Crihope linn.  Crihope linn is perhaps one of
the most striking scenes of the kind in the south
of Scotland, and the caverns in its precipitous
banks are well calculated to afford a concealment
which few who know the danger of the attempt
will care to invade.
One day, however, the dragoons came upon
James without warning, and on his first view of
their approach he saw that they were too near the
house to admit of his making an escape to the
woods.  In his perplexity he ran into the mill,
crying he was now in the power of his enemies,
as the soldiers were just at hand. " Not so fast,"
replied the miller, "4doff your coat, and here is
mine in exchange."  The miller having hastily
arrayed his master in his dusty coat, next took a
mealy sack, and powdered him all over from head
to foot, and left him busily engaged in his own occupation.  The soldiers who saw him  enter the
mill, soon followed in the pursuit.  Having entered the lower apartment, they examined every
corner with the closest scrutiny; they next ascended the upper story in quest of him, who, they
were certain, was some where within. This place
they searched with equal care, and with equal
want of success.  It never occurred to them that
the man who was working at the mill was the individual whom they were seeking, and therefore




172            TRADITIONS OF
they paid no attention to him. When they found
that all their efforts to find the fugitive were
fruitless, and probably supposing that he had left
the building by some way unknown to them, they
were about to retire, when one of the party, looking in the miller's face, exclaimed, Here he is! the
very man we have been seeking!  On hearing
this, James, who seemed to the soldiers to be entirely absorbed in his employment, turned round,
and with a dauntless countenance and apparent
surprise at the affirmation, said with a firm and
deliberate tone, " I think the devil seems to be
in these men." Such an expression, they thought,
could never proceed from  the mouth of a dolce
covenanter, and therefore they interfered no farther, believing at the same time that his habiliments
indicated the presence of an entirely different
person from him of whom  they were in quest.
What James said was true; they were actuated
by the spirit of evil in promoting the interests of
Satan, to whose service they seemed to have sold
themselves; and when these worthless men heard
any one use the name of their master in conversation, they thought they recognised in him a fellow.
servant. On the present occasion they left the
mill without having accomplished their purpose.
The expedients to which the persecuted covenanters were often obliged to resort to save themselves were various, sometimes even amusing, and
very generally successful. A story, somewhat
akin to this of James Nivison in the mill, is told
of three men at Auchengrouch. They had been
wandering among the moors, and having spied in
the distance a company of dragoons coming along
the bent, they betook themselves to Auchengrouch
house. Having made known their circumstances




THE COVENANTERS.             173
%o the family, the question was, how or wl ere they
were to conceal themselves, in case the troopers
should call. It was proposed by the mistress of
the house, that they should instantly array themselves in female apparel, to try if by this means
they could elude the observation of the soldiers.
The proposal was agreed to, and the three men
were speedily decked in women's clothes.  The
troopers came leisurely along the heath, and at
length arrived at Auchengrouch.  The men in
female guise were busily employed as if they had
been domestic servants, and the gudewife was occasionally raising her voice in a loud and impe.
rious manner, giving her orders to one in this way,
and to another in that, when the dragoons dismounted.  " You seem to be rather noisy this
morning good woman," said the commander of
the party, as he drew near to enter the dwelling.
" It may be I have reason," replied she, " my servants must obey my orders, as your soldiers must
obey yours, and when they fail they must abide
reproof." In this way she succeeded in diverting
the attention of the troopers; and the men in dis.
guise, we may suppose, like persons ashamed
when found in a fault, would naturally avert their
faces from the soldiers, and steal from their pre.
sence as quickly as possible.  It is obvious, that
the slightest scrutiny on the part of the dragoons
would have discovered the stratagem, and therefore it was their object to avoid this scrutiny. No
discovery was made, and, with grateful hearts,
they saw the soldiers again on the moor at a distance from the house.
James Nivison, notwithstanding the hints which
he occasionally received to provide for his safety,
was often surprised by the visits of the soldiers
15 -




174             TRADITIONS OF
who came in quest of him.  One day, when he
was least expecting it, a party of troopers approached his house; and he, having no other place
to- flee to, darted through a window in a back
part of his cottage, and sought refuge in the gar.
den.  The little plot of herbs was at this time in
its most luxuriant state, and the large stocks of
green kail-a vegetable indispensable in the gardens of the Scottish peasantry, meeting at the tops
in lengthened rows, formed a long vaulted cavity
so large as to admit, underneath the broad and
verdant blades, the body of a full-grown man
without being perceived. It was into one of these
deep furrows, and beneath the green arch, that
James Nivison crept, that in this earthy bed he
might lie secure from the prying eyes of the soldiers.  The dragoons arrived, and proceeded to
the search as formerly, and as formerly were unsuccessful. Having questioned his family respecting his place of concealment without obtaining
any thing satisfactory, they departed, expressing
their determination to repeat their visits till they
found him.  Had the dragoons entered the garden with the slightest suspicion of his being concealed within its precincts, there is little doubt but
that he would have been discovered. It is wonderful to think how  narrowly these good men
sometimes escaped, when almost the turning of a
straw would have revealed their retreat.  Wodrow gives a striking instance of this in the case of
Maxwell of Moncrief, who happened to be in Edinburgh at the time when Mitchell made the
attempt on the life of the Archbishop. When the
search was being made for the persons who had
committed the outrage, Maxwell, fearing lest he
should be apprehended among the crowd, sought




THE COVENANTERS.              175
refuge in the inn where he had stabled his horse.
4 He had no place in town," says the historian,
" he could flee to; but he came to Moffat, his
stabler's house, and begged his landlord to hide
him.  Moffat told him very coldly that he had no
place to put him in. and very indifferently pointed
to a large empty meal-tub standing in a public
drinking-room, adding, if he pleased he should
cover him with it. No other shift offering, it was
done, and in a few minutes the constable and his
men came in to search the house, and were soon
satisfied, expecting no prey there.  They sat
down in that very room, with the meal barrel at
the end of their table, and called for some ale.
While sitting, they fell a talking about the unsucessfulness of their search. One of them says,
I am sure there are many whigs in town; another
of them rapped violently on the head of the mealtub under which Moncrief was, swearing, it may
be, there is one under that; and so it passed as a
jest, and they were permitted to do no more.
Quickly they left the room, and fell to their work
in other houses; and the gentleman came out,
having tasted of the bitterness of death almost."
Many similar instances might be mentioned of
deliverances equally providential. A party of dragoons on the border were chasing the fugitives
of a scattered conventicle, and was pursuing a
worthy woman of some note among the covenanters, of the name of Janet Gass; they came to
the house where she had concealed herself.  She
had hid herself in a large empty chest; and when
the troopers entered the house, they asked if a
person of the name of Margaret Gass lived here;
they were told that no person of that name resided
in the house, nor was even known in the neigh



176             TRADITIONS OF
bourhood.  The evasion turned on the mistake of
the name mentioned by the dragoons, and the
poor woman eluded their seach.
In these trying times, when men were driven to
their wit's end, many expedients, consistent with
honourable principle and a good conscience, were
resorted to in order to preserve the precious life.
It is not in our power, however, to justify every
expedient, nor to applaud every plan adopted in
their extremity by the honest sufferers of that
period, for the purpose of escaping the harassings
of their restless oppressors. John Campbell of
Lochengarach, in Ayrshire, was the object of persecuting malignity to the curate of the parish in
which he resided.  John, or some one for him,
sent one day a card to the curate requesting an
interest in his prayers as a person at the point of
death. The curate concluded that John was near
his end, if not actually dead, and accordingly deleted his name from the list of those he was in the
habit of distressing. It is true that honest John
might justly be considered by himself and his
friends as being every day at the point of death,
because his life was constantly exposed to the
wanton cruelty of an unbridled soldiery, but then
this was obviously not the sense in which the mat.
ter was intended to be understood by the curate.
James Nivison now saw that there was to be
no peace nor safety for him in his own house, and
that therefore it would be necessary for him to
resort to some place of more permanent security
among the woods and lonely caves of the hills,
and to associate with other wanderers who frequented the deserts and dreary glens far from the
abodes of men.  His life hung in doubt every day
before his eyes, and therefore he deemed it better




THE COVENANTERS.             177
to retire to the solitudes than to bs teased with
incessant anxiety and uncertainty.  He communicated his intention to his wife, ana showed her
the necessity, now imposed on him, uf leaving her
and the sweet babe behind him for a season under
the more especial protection of Providence, seeing
his presence was the occasion of so much disquietude to the household. "And, my dear wife," says
he, " comfort yourself since it is stern necessity that
forces us to a temporary separation. God will be
with us both,-with me in the wilderness, and
with you in this house, in which, though solitary,
you shall not be alone. In removing for a season,
I will thereby provide both for your safety and my
own."
But the wife of James Nivison was in a moral
sense a heroine, and she was not to be deterred
from following the fortunes of her husband from
the consideration, that she must lodge in the cold
damp cavern, or in the dark forest, exposed to
unwonted hunger and fatigue. The thought that
she was to be with her husband compensated for
all, and she was resolved to follow him, and to
suffer with him in the same common cause. No
remonstrance, on the part of her husband, could in.
duce her to remain behind him. "I will accompany you," said she firmly, " I will accompany
you; and if the archers should hit you, I will be
present to stanch your wounds, and to bind up
your bleeding head; in whatever danger you may
be, I will be at your side, your affectionate wife
in life or in death."  How valuable is virtuous
love and genuine Christian attachment!  Many
waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods
drown it.  Thus James Nivison, and his wife, too
happy in each other's affection to complain of




178             TRADITIONS OF
hardship, and happier still in the love of their Saviour, left their home to wander they knew not
whither, but safe under the guidance of Him who
never leaves nor forsakes his own people, and more
especially when they are suffering for his sake.
Their first place of retreat was the woods and
caves of Crihope linn.  The mother carried the
babe, the companion of their sufferings and their
wanderings.  The tender infant, exposed to hardship in common with its parents for Christ's sake,
could ill endure the cold and other inconveniences to
which the household was now subjected. To preserve the child, however, from the keen and inclement air, James employed part of his time in
preparing a portable cradle, of pliant twigs cut from
the willow bushes that grew in the linns, and by
the sides of the mountain stream.  In this little
basket was the infant, wrapped in a warm blanket, deposited and rocked asleep, while the soft
lullaby, chanted by the affectionate mother, filled
with a sweet plaintive music the dark recesses of
the cave, the sound of which, wafted stealthily on
the fitful breeze, was carried adown the gloomy
ravine, and died away among the distant woods.
When they removed from cave to cave, the wicker
bed was carried with them, and was found to be of
great use for the accommodation of the babe, over
whom the hearts of the parents yearned with the
fondest solicitude.
This pious and devoted pair, with their offspring,
were shielded, during the years of persecution
that remained, fiom the malice of their foes. They
left their all on earth for Christ's sake, and, by the
kindness of the people in the moorlands, they were
never suffered to want, God providing for them in
the day when they could not provide for them



THE COVENANTERS.            179
selves.  What were the varied incidents which,
during their wanderings, befell them, tradition does
not say; but they outlived the reign of oppression
and at last, with glad hearts, returned to their
home, from which they had formerly departed in
sadness.  This worthy man met with his death in
the following manner.  While he was working
among some horses before his own door, one of
them struck him violently on the breast, and killed
him on the spot. Thus was he, who had weathered
many a storm, and escaped the perils of a protracted persecution, killed by accident before his own
house, in circumstances in which no danger was
apprehended. When the worthy knight of Close.
burn was informed of his death, he exclaimed, "Now
has God, who sustained this good man in all his
tribulations, taken him to heaven by a stun and gentle surprise."' Be ye also ready, for in such an
hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh.'
James Nivison died in 1704, and was buried in the
ancient church-yard of Dalgarnock, in the parish
of Closeburn.
CHAPTER XIII.
Patrick Laing.
PATrRICK Laing was born at Blagannoch in the
year 1641. He was educated by his worthy father in the principles of the Reformation, and his
mind seems to have been early imbued with religion. His father was subjected to many hardships on account of is adherence to the cause of




180             TRADITIONS OF
civil and religious liberty, being frequently spoiled
of all his goods, and otherwise exposed to the fury
of the oppressor.  Patrick lost his mother when
he was very young, and after her decease the af
fections of the father seemed to concentrate wholly
in the son. In process of time, however, his father
took another wife, by whom  he had a numerous
family; and Patrick, not finding himself very
agreeably situated, resolved to embrace the first
favourable opportunity of leaving the place of his
nativity.  lie was now in his eighteenth year,
and of a hale and vigorous constitution; and he
determined to avail himself of a more stirring occupation than that of a simple and retired shepherd.  Accordingly he directed his attention to
the army, and enlisted in the Scots Greys. In
this situation he behaved with great propriety,
and recommended himself by his dexterity in the
sword exercise to his officers, who cherished for
him a great esteem, and regarded him as one of
the best and bravest soldiers in their troop.  Patrick, though in the king's service, was still a
covenanter, for he had enlisted in the army prior
to the Restoration, and at a time when the coun.
try had not the slightest suspicion that the revocation of Charles would be attended by any of
those consequences to the church in Scotland
which actually ensued. Though he was a trooper,
therefore, he nevertheless cherished all those reforming and covenanting principles in which he
had been so sedulously educated, and he lamented
that it was his hap to appear as the opponent of a
cause which was so dear to his heart. A short time
after his connection with the army, he was sent to
Ireland, where he remained for some time, and
where, as he frequently said, he uniformly experi



THE COVENANTERS.              181
enced the greatest kindness.  It was not long,
however, till, Charles having renounced the cove.
nants and turned persecutor, the company to which
Laing belonged was recalled to England; and it
being known that many of the party were covenanters, they were detained in the south, lest, being
sent into Scotland, they should leave the ranks,
when they found they were to be employed in
warring against their brethren who conscientiously adhered to the cause of the covenants. Laing,
when he saw the real posture of affairs, continued
in the army with great reluctance, and often de.
liberated with himself how he wuuld act in case of
being despatched, with his fellow-soldiers, to harass those who were suffering for the truth's sake.
An anecdote, of rather an amusing description,
is told of him respecting an encounter which he
had with an Italian bully during the time that his
regiment lay in London.  The Italian had visited
England for the purpose of challenging the bravest of her sons to a single combat.  No one dared
to accept the challenge, till Patrick, hearing of the
circumstance, offered to enter the lists with the
vaunting foreigner. The affair, it seems, made a
great noise, and interested not a few in the higher
and more influential circles.  The Italian was said
to be invincible, and was a man of gigantic sta.
ture, and had killed or otherwise disabled all who
lnad dared to oppose him. On the day appointed
the combatants met.  The Italian appeared on
the one end of the stage vapouring and towering
in his height, decorated with the cross and with
three shining stars, and otherwise accoutred in a
manner befitting the character he had assumed.
On the other end stood Patrick, a tall, boardly
man, with a martial aspect and a dauntless breast,
16




182             TRADITIONS OF
His features were strong and coarse, and his eyes
had a remarkable and perplexing squint.  The
Italian, like the Philistine of Gath, who cursed
David by his gods, defied his antagonist in the
name of the Pope, and of all the saints. Laing,
whose blood as a reformer was stirred at the bare
mention of the fooleries and abominations of popery, advanced with a manly stride to meet his:braggart foe.  As he stept forward, the Italian,
who had not before seen him, was puzzled at his
dubious stare, and terror-struck at his whole appearance, sprang from  the stage, crying that it
was a fiend and not a man who had met him, and
left Patrick the conqueror, without having drawn
a sword in the strife. This incident acquired him
great renown.  His mere appearance had put to
flight a man, who had regularly challenged perhaps the greater part of Europe.  The Lord
Mayor of London, it is said, bestowed on him
some substantial gifts, and his officers became so
enamoured of him, that they procured his advancement in the army, at a time when he fondly expected  his discharge.  The above incident is
attributed by some to a man of the name of
Douglas, a kinsman of Patrick Laing, and from
the same place.
During his residence in England, the persecution was raging in Scotland, and the sufferers were
fleeing in every direction for their lives.  To escape the incessant harassings of the enemy, a
party of the covenanters had fled over the Border,
and sought refuge in the northern parts of England.  The report of this circumstance reached
the authorities; and Patrick Laing, whose regiment, it appears, happened at the time to be stationed in the same neighbourhood, was sent with




THE COVENANTERS.             183
a company to apprehend them.  This was precisely the trial which he had all along feared
might befall him, and now he was called to endure it. To disobey the orders of his superior was
as much as his life was worth, and to lend himself
as an instrument in persecuting the people of God
was what his conscience would not permit. He
was not prepared to desert the service, nor was he
ready to give a positive refusal to the command
of his officers. Accordingly he marched with his
little troop in search of the reputed rebels, but
contrived so to conduct matters as to allow the
party apprehended to escape with great advantage
to themselves, and the soldiers returned without
their errand.  It was whispered that the affair
was mismanaged, and that the blame rested with
Laing.  He was accordingly committed to prison,
and, being tried, was sentenced to banishment.
Every worthy person, and every brave man, lamented his fate, and none expressed for him a
warmner sympathy than his own officers.  His
friends petitioned in his behalf, and a certain English nobleman, who, an account of the affair with
the Italian, felt interested in him, exerted himself
in his favour, and used every means to accomplish
his deliverance. When the day appointed for his
transportation arrived, he was still detained in
custody, and day after day passed in dreary sucsession till the poor prisoner expected to end his
life in his cell. Through confinement and disease
he was reduced to a mere skeleton, and was at
last released from the prison-house in an apparently dying condition.  He was then permitted
to retire to his native country, and accordingly,
whenever his strength permitted, he moved slowly
northward, and, after many a tedious step, he ar.




184             TRADITIONS OF
rived among the heath-clad mountains of his
nativity.  It was long before he recovered his
full strength, having been so much wasted by
disease, and so much exhausted by his long and
fatiguing journey.  He brought with him a sum
of money, which in those days was reckoned a
little fortune, namely, about thirty pounds, which
he had received in gifts from his well-wishers
and with this money it was his intention to
settle himself in some occupation, by which to
earn an honest livelihood.  Having been brought
up among the mountains, he still loved the wild
solitudes, and hence he resolved to plant himself
in some moorland glen, as the occupant of a little
farm, to follow, as in the days of his early youth,
the bleating flocks in the peace and retirement of
the wilderness.  His heart, alienated from military
occupations, clung with fondness to the scenes of
his childhood; and finding, no doubt, that the
life of a soldier was not the most favourable to the
growth of piety, he eagerly sought a place of seclusion in the desert.  His wishes at length were
gratified, and he found a place of retreat among
the wild Glenkens of Galloway.  Here he located
himself, in the hope of finding, for a season at
least that tranquillity which his heart so much desired.  Permanent repose he knew he could not
find, for the persecution of the party to which he
was conscientiously attached was nothing abated,
and he laid his account to meet with trouble in
common with his brethren.  A man like Patrick
Laing could not remain long in obscurity; and
Grierson, of Lag, soon learned that a stranger had
settled within the district over which he exercised
a superintendence.  It was found that the stranger
did not attend the curate, and that he professed




THE COVENANTERS.              185
covenanting principles, and that consequently he
was an individual whose movements it was necessary to watch.  In those times it did not require
much to bring a man into suspicion, and very
little served as an occasion of violent proceedings.
It was not long, therefore, before our worthy began
to meet with annoyance from the adverse party,
and he soon found that no rest was to be expected
even in this retired situation.  The occasions on
which he was sought after were numerous, and
equally numerous were his escapes from the hand
of his enemies.  In order to facilitate his flight
from his pursuers, he kept a fleet pony in constant
readiness, and which, being accustomed to scour
the hills and mosses, often carried him with great
speed out of the way of the heavy troopers, who
were less calculated to traverse the ruggCed surface
of the wilderness. The circumstances connected
with one of his many escapes, have been preserved
by tradition in the line of his kindred. He was
on one occasion returning home, leading his pony,
that carried a load of meal thrown across its
yielding back, when he observed a party of dragoons approaching.  He knew the certain consequences that would ensue if he walked on till he
met them, and therefore, without a moment's hesitation, he tumbled the load on the ground, and
faulting the nimble animal, sped for safety along
the heath.  The troopers, observing the movement, instantly commenced the pursuit.  Patrick
seeing the horsemen following him, with all speed
hastened to reach the bottom of a precipice called
the Lorg Craig.  The dragoons perceiving his intention, divided into difIerent parties, pursuing
separate routes, with a view, if possible, to circumvent him, and intercept his progress to the
16 




186             TRADITIONS OF
Craig.  He reached the rock, however, before the
soldiers came up, and having scrambled to the
middle of the precipice, and standing still for a
moment to breathe, the troopers approached the
base.  He was fully aware that they would leave
their horses and climb after him, and he now regretted that he had with him no weapon of defence,
in case he should be closely attacked. There was
now no way of escape left for him, but to mount, if
possible, to the top of the rock; and the danger
with which this was attended was to be preferred
to the danger of being exposed to the firing of the
musketry.  He made the attempt, and succeeded;
and when he reached the highest part, where he
stood in security, he gave three loud cheers in
mockery of his pursuers, who, he knew, durst not
follow his dangerous track.
On account of the incessant harassings to which
he was now subjected, he saw it was in vain to
continue longer in the place. His life was in per.
petual jeopardy, his cattle were taken away, he
was spoiled of his goods, and himself declared an
outlaw.  Having left the Glenkens, he resorted,
with other wanderers, to the higher and wilder
parts of the country. He had come to his native
land for repose, but he found no rest for the sole
of his foot, for he was connected with a cause, the
maintaining of which demanded many a sacrifice.
He knew this, for he had counted the cost, and
was prepared to endure whatever the Saviour, in
whom  he trusted, called him  to suffer for the
truth's sake.  In his wanderings he chose for his
hiding-place the darkly-wooded retreats of Yochan, and found hospitable entertainment in the
houses of the pious people who here and there inhabited its banks.  The farm-house of Bar, near




THE COVENANTERS.              1, 7
the lower extremity of this romantic stream, is
particularly mentioned as having been a place of
resort to this good man; and the worthy tenant
used frequently to remark, that in worldly things
he was more than ordinarily prosperous since the
time that he opened his door to Patrick Laing, as
a sufferer in the cause of Christ; and there can be
no doubt that the Lord blesses those who protect
and assist his people for his sake.  In Cleuchfoot
also, a farm about a mile to the west of Sanquhar,
which lies on the southern slope of a lofty and
green-clad hill which stretches its base to the margin of the Nith, he found a home; and its kindly
tenant, John Hair, often contended with the gudemzan of Bar who should have him more frequently
as an inmate.  His company was courted, doubtless, for the excellency of his character, and for
his godly and edifying conversation; for, as the
word of the Lord was scarce in those days, intercourse with religious people was eagerly sought
and highly prized. Patrick could no doubt also
tell of wars and hair-breadth escapes, and striking
incidents, and strange scenes, which would excite
the wonderment and interest of the simple and secluded people among whom  he now  sojourned.
Cleuchfoot was a more public place than Bar,
lying on the line of the great thoroughfare to Ayrshire, along which parties of soldiers were constantly passing and repassing, and hence his
seclusion here may at first sight seem  less complete; but then there was in the immediate vicinity
of the house a dense thicket, into the heart of
which he could plunge at any time, on the slightest warning. There are two deep ravines, formed
by the rushing of the mountain torrents, in whose
dark and basky sides he could secrete himself




188            TRADITIONS OF
from the most prying eye, and remain in perfect
security. In this way did he dispose of himself,
wandering secretly from place to place till the
Revolution,-an event which, though it brought
relief to others, made on the whole but little alter.
ation in his circumstances, at least for a while.
It appears that at this time a goodly number of
soldiers was required for the protection of some
of our foreign settlements, and inquisition was
made for the best and most likely men to be sent
abroad on this errand.  Grierson of Lag, who
since the happy Revolution had little to do in the
way of persecuting the people of God, was appointed to enlist, or otherwise impress into the
service what men he could find in Galloway and
Nithsdale. He had his eye particularly on Patrick
Laing, whom he hated as a covenanter, but admired as a soldier; and he resolved to employ
every means to get him into his power.'This intention was known to Laing, who found it as
necessary now to keep himself in concealment, as
during the period of the persecution. Lag had
reported that Patrick was a deserter, and in this
way he obtained authority to apprehend him; and,
with all the restlessness and cruelty of the persecutor, he exerted himself to seize his person.
One of the last attempts made by Lag to get hold
of him, was when he was one day quietly angling
in the silvery stream of the Yochan. He saw at
some distance three men slowly advancing up the
river, and apparently occupied as he was.  He
began, however, to entertain suspicions of their
design, and thought it best to consult his safety in
due time.  In order, therefore, to test their purpose, while at the same time he would gain some
advantage by the movement, he withdrew from the




THE COVENANTERS.             189
stream, and ascended with all haste the brow of
the mountain.  No sooner was this perceived by
the men, than they commenced a vigorous pursuit
and by this means fairly revealed their purpose.
The tract along which he fled was a steep ridge,
having on either side a streamlet purling far below.  The three pursuers separated; one ascended the ridge behind him, and the other two took
each a parallel rivulet, so that unless he should
get out to the high lands before all the three, it
would be impossible for him  to escape.  His
strength was now fast failing, and his pursuers
were gaining ground at every step, and the hope
of getting away from them became every moment
more faint.  In his perplexity he discovered before him  a hollow space of spratty ground, in
which he resolved to hide himself, and abide the
will of Providence. When he reached the place,
he plunged to the waist in mud, and in all probability the miry slough would have become his
grave, if he had not promptly extricated himself.
As he was struggling to free himself from  the
sinking ground, he observed on one side a place
scooped out by the little brook beneath the bank,
into which he crept, from the view of the men who
were just at hand. When they came to the place,
they had no suspicion that the object of their pur.
suit was hiding below the vaulted turf, and they
passed on with all haste in quest of him.  He remained in his concealment till the day passed
away, and in the dusk of the evening he returned.
His deliverance was unexpected, but He in whom
he trusted protected him, and heard his prayer in
the day of his distress.
After this, to avoid farther annoyance, he re.
moved to the north of Scotland, where lived one




190             TRADITIONS OF
of his old officers, a pious man, whom he wished
to visit. How long he remained in this quarter is
not known, but here he was at least free from
anxiety.  Shortly after his return to the south, a
meeting of the Society people was held at Cairntable, in the neighbourhood of Muirkirk, at which
he was present.  The procedure of that convention, whatever it was, did not please him, and from
that period he withdrew from their connection.
After this he was allowed to remain undisturbed to the end of his days.  He died at the house
Cleuchfoot, at the advanced age of eighty-five
years.  His dust lies in the old church-yard of
Kirkconnel, without a stone to mark his resting.
place.  His sword was in the possession of a man
of the name of Hair, in Sanquhar, a descendant
of the family of Cleuchfoot, lately deceased.
Thus the wanderings of this good man, after a
long and honoured pilgrimage, terminated. His
name is revered by the posterity of his kindred,
and his pious example is the object of their imitation.
CHAPTER XIV.
Friarminion-James Glendinning-Cargill at Covington Mill.
THE farm  of Friarminion lies midway between
Sanquhar and Muirkirk, and in the very heart of
the dreariest solitudes in that part of the country.
It borders on the wilds of Hindbottom and Bla.
gannach and other desert places, where the weary
and oppressed people of God often met in large




THE COVENANTERS.              191
conventicles to hear the gospel.  The ancient
house of Friarminion stood on the margin of a
mossy streamlet, at the base of Mount Stewart on
the west; and many a man of God, and many a
friend of the covenant, found a shelter at its hospitable hearth. It seems indeed to have been a
central point in the wilderness for the congregating of the sufferers, when any matter of importance was under consideration.  It was in this
lonely place that, in 1686, the general meeting of
the Societies was held for the purpose of deliberating on the propriety of hearing other suffering
ministers besides Mr Renwick.  Few  localities
were better adapted, or furnished greater facilities,
for the gatherings of the persecuted.  It occupied
a midland situation, and it afforded the ready
means of escape, either to the mountains or into
mosses, when danger was near.
It was a fine summer day, and a party of the
sufferers, in their wanderings in the desert mountains, drew near Friarminion, and took refuge in
a sheep-fold, to seek repose after their fatigue.
The fold into which they entered stood on the slope
of a green hill, at a considerable distance from the
dwelling-house.  From this spot a good view is
obtained of the dale land beneath; and the weary
outcasts within could easily ascertain, by peering
over the turfen wall, if any of their enemies were
in the immediate neighbourhood.  Entertaining
no suspicion, therefore, and being much in need
of rest, they laid themselves down to sleep, under
the watchful care of Him who never fails to be the
guardian of those who put their trust in him. As
they lay in this situation, they were roused from
their slumbers by the loud and pitiful bleating of
a sheep at the door of the fold. The bleating of




192             TRADITIONS OF
a sheep was no uncommon occurrence, and in
other circumstances could never have excited the
least attention; but by persons in their situation,
the most apparently trifling incident was seldom
disregarded, as they lived under the incessant apprehension of approaching danger, and could not
tell how suddenly, nor from  what quarter, their
vigilant enemies might come upon them.  On
hearing the sound, some of the party rose to their
feet, and looking over the wall of their dormitory,
found that the bleating of the ewe was to them as
much a voice of warning, as a similar occurrence
was to Mr Peden and his friends in Gilchristland
Shiel, for a company of dragoons were actually
approaching.  They appeared to have come from
the Wellwood heights, in the bosom of which lies
the delightful vale, alluded to in the " Cameronian's Dream."
"And Wellwood's sweet valley breathed music and gladness,
The fresh meadow blooms hung in beauty aud redness,
Its daughters were happy to hail the returning,
And drunk the delights of July's sweet morning."
The party within the fold gathered to their feet
and prepared for flight, well-knowing that if the
dragoons came upon them  where they lay, the
place of their retreat would speedily be converted
into a slaughter-house.  They were fully aware
that their flight would be observed; but they
thought it better to risk pursuit on the hills, than
to venture a concealment in the fold, where, if
they should be found, their fate would be inevitable.
Having, therefore, determined on making their escape, they issued from the fold, and fled towards
the hill.  The  mountain, though  steep, could
easily be traversed by the cavalry, but beyond




THE COVENANTERS.             193
this there stretched a track of dark moss, into
which the horsemen could not penetrate.  To
this they directed their course, as being a sure retreat from the troopers, if they should happen to
pursue them.  In their company were two men
of the name of Clark, probably from Auchen.
grouch, who, being notorious nonconformists, were
particularly obnoxious to the prelatic faction.
One of these men, when the party were toiling ur
the ascent, was seized with sickness, and could
not continue his flight. It was now dreaded that
the dragoons, if they chanced to perceive them,
and chose to follow, would easily make them their
prey, as they could not abandon their sickly com,
panion.  Two of the stoutest men in the company,
however, took hold of him, and helped him forward with all the haste they could make.  At
length they reached the moss where they con
cealed themselves among its deep hags and tall
heather, and in this way escaped the hands of
their enemies. It is not said whether the dra.
goons pursued them, nor is any mention made of
the hair-breadth escapes of the fugitives, from the
firing of the troopers.  The anecdote is not cha.
racterized by any striking incident, and is pro.
duced simply as introductory to a story of a
somewhat more stirring nature, the scene of whose
incident is nearly conterminous to the locality described.
James Glendinning rented a sheep-farm in the
vicinity of Cairntable, a high mountain to the east
of Muirkirk. He was a young man of great bodily
strength, of a powerful and reflective mind, and of
a generous disposition. He married an amiable
young woman, the daughter of a small proprietor
somewhere in the neighbourhood.  They were
17




194            TRADITIONS OF
Episcopalians, and attended the ministry of the cu.
rate of Muirkirk.  His wife, who seems to have
been a woman of considerable shrewdness, often
conversed with him on the position of affairs in the
trying times of persecution; and it was frequently
observed by them, that there must certainly be
something more than common in the case of the
covenanters, who took joyfully the spoiling of their
goods, and who submitted to death itself, rather
than renounce their principles. Their godly and
inoffensive lives, and the great privations to which
they were subjected, called forth the sympathy of
Glendinning and his wife in their behalf, and they
frequently opened their door with an hospitable
welcome to those whom they deemed worthy but
injured men.  It happened on one occasion, that
Glendinning, having gone to the metropolis with a
flock of sheep for sale, witnessed the death of one
of the martyrs in the Grassmarket.  The scene
was novel and striking, and his attention was powerfully arrested. He heard the martyr's dying
cornfession,-not of any crime of which he had
been guilty, and for which he was now called to
suffer, but of his faith in that Redeemer who on
earth had shed his precious blood for the remission
of sins,-and in that short confession he probably
heard more of the gospel than he had heard during
his whole lifetime before. He heard the martyr's
dying testimony,-emitted against the prevailing
errors of the time, and in favour of that truth in
behalf of which a standard had been lifted up;
and from this he must have learned more of the
nature of that cause in which the covenanters were
embarked, than had ever entered into his mind to
conceive. That maligned cause he now perceived
to be the cause of God, and a cause worthy of all




THE COVENANTERS.               195
the contendings and sufferings of the dishonoured
remnant that walked with God, and was " faithful
with the saints."  He heard the martyr's last
prayer,-a prayer which breathed of heaven, and
which was expressive of the deepest penitence,
and yet full of confidence and delight in God,-a
prayer which uttered good-will to all men, and in
which forgiveness was sought, even for those who
were about to imbrue their hands in his blood.
He witnessed " the martyr's heroic grappling with
death," and the serenity and joy with which he
surveyed the appalling apparatus of a public execution, and noticed the mysterious exultation which
he seemed to feel the moment before he was launched into eternity. All this he witnessed with an
absorption of mind, the effect of which was overwhelming and decisive.  A  new light shone into
his mind; he felt himself the subject of emotions
and determinations to which he had formerly been
a total stranger; and he left the spot to which,
while he witnessed this solemn and affecting spectacle, he was unconsciously riveted, with a heart
which God had touched, and into which the ele.
mentary principles of saving truth had entered.
"' The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the
church,"-a seed sown in many hearts, and which
has been abundantly productive.  The enemies of
the truth were greatly outwitted by means of the
public executions of the covenanters; for instead
of deterring men from embracing their views, these
exhibitions were an effective means of disserinating their principles, and of leading to inquiry respecting the reason of their sufferings, the uniform
result of which, in every honest mind, was fivourable to the cause of the oppressed. Their enemies
Indeed seemed ultimately to be aware of this fact:




196            TRADITIONS OF
and hence, to prevent the effect which the speech.
es and the prayers of the sufferers on the scaffold
had a tendency to produce on the multitude, recourse was had to the beating of drums to drown
the voice of the speaker.  The shootings which
took place on the mountains and in the moors no
doubt attracted sympathy in the different localities where they occurred; but the executions,
which were witnessed in the crowded streets of a
populous city, produced an effect on hundreds
at once, and left impressions which were never effaced.
On Glendinning's return to his home, he detailed to his wife the various occurrences that he had
witnessed in his journey, and especially the scene
of martyrdom in Edinburgh. He made known
the change that had taken place in his sentiments
and feelings, and his determination to follow, for
the future, the cause of the persecuted. He de.
parted from his house with a heart inclined to pity
those who were subjected to unrighteous suffer.
ings, though he did not understand the principles
on which they acted and endured hardship; but he
returned a new man, and with a heart not only
well-disposed to the persecuted, but one with them,
-and with a soul in unison with theirs, not simply on public grounds, but in the faith of Christ
the common Saviour, to whom it was now his in.
tention to devote himself, and his household, and
his all. To all this he found a ready response in
the breast of his wife, whose soul was knit to his,
and who was always prepared to bow to his superior judgment; at the same time, she failed not
to warn him of the difficulties which, on taking
this step, he was likely to meet with, and the distress which in all probability would be brought on




THE COVENANTERS.             197
his household.  They were fully aware of the
spirit with which the party to which they hitherto
belonged was actuated, and they had no reason to
count on a dispensation in their favour, or that in
their case the rigour of persecution would in any
degree be abated; on the contrary, they had ground
to suspect that their treatment would be even more
severe than that of others.  " Let us, my dear
wife," said Glendinning, " commit the matter
wholly to the God in whom  we trust, and with
whose cause we are now identified; the Saviour
in whom we believe will not forsake us in the day
of trial." He then brought a Bible from the shelf,
and, placing it on the table, said, " There is one
duty which among many others we have heretofore
neglected, I mean family worship; it is my intention therefore to perform that duty this evening."
This service, by which a formal acknowledgment
of God is made by a household, is now-a-days
fallen into lamentable disuse among professing
Christians.  It is a duty, however, which no one
who has any regard for the divine honour, and regard for personal responsibility, or any concern
for the spiritual welfare of a family, can possibly
omit.  The religion of that household in which
God is not worshipped, is either extinct or greatly
on the wane.  They who refuse to engage in this
simple and pleasantexercise, dishonour the Christian profession, and give no evidence that they
have any part in Christ. Who can tell how much
of the disorder, and unhappiness, and poverty
which prevail in many a household, may be owing
to the neglect of this duty? while, on the other
hand, the harmony and prosperity with which
other families are blessed, may, through the di.




198            TRADITIONS OF
vine favour, be mainly attributed to the conscientious and Christian performance of this duty.
Glendinning, having with his household engaged in the worship of God, rose from his knees,
and, walking across the floor, uncovered the cradle in which lay their infant child, and, lifting the
babe in his arms, placed him gently on his mother's knee, and, in a firm and solemn tone, said,
" I commit you, my dear wife, and this sweet
babe, to the fatherly care of the great Shepherd
of Israel, whom we have this evening avouched to
be our God.  As for me, I am resolved to live
and to die adhering to that cause which we have
now espoused; and if my days shall be cut short
by the violence of persecution, God, the God under
whose shadow we have taken shelter, will be to
you a husband and to this child a father."  It is
easy to conceive the feelings of the loving husband
and the tender wife on this occasion; but God
comforted them by his grace, and fortified their
hearts by his promise, under the forebodings of
evil to come.' Fear not, for I am with thee; be
not dismayed, for I am thy God: I will strengthen
thee, yea, I will help thee, yea, I will uphold thee
with the right hand of my righteousness.'
James Glendinning having now taken this decided step, made no secret of his change of principles, but on every occasion, when duty called,
prudently and honestly avowed his sentiments.
The rumour that Glendinning had now become
a covenanter soon spread abroad.  The report
reached the ears of the authorities, and it was decided that he should forthwith be treated as a
malcontent; and Claverhouse, who was at that
time harassing the west, despatched one Morton
with a small troop to apprehend him. Informa




THE COVENANTERS.             199
tion of the circumstance having been communicated to Glendinning, he, at the earnest entreaty of
his wife, reluctantly withdrew from  his house on
the night in which they had reason seriously to
expect a visit from the dragoons. Accordingly,
as was anticipated, Morton with his party arrived
under the cloud of night at the house, and, entering in a body, expected to pounce at once upon
their prey.  The object of their search, however,
was not within, and therefore in their rage and
disappointment they vowed all manner of vengeance on the defenceless and terror-stricken woman.  Morton observing the cradle on the floor,
turned down the clothes and rudely seized the
sleeping babe by the tiny arm, and held him up
naked and screaming before his mother's face,
while in his right hand he grasped the keen and
glittering blade, fiercely swearing that in one instant he would hew the sprawling brat in pieces,
unless she revealed her husband's hiding-place.
By this time Glendinning, who had removed to
no great distance, had cautiously approached the
house with all the yearning solicitude of a husband and a parent, to ascertain if possible what
the ruthless foe was doing within; and looking
through a small window in the back part of the
house, he witnessed the appalling scene described.
All his manhood was roused in a moment, and
without the calculation or the fear of consequences,
he turned round to the entrance and rushed into the
interior with his drawn sword. " Hold, ye mur.
derers," vociferated he, as he sprang to the rescue
of his child; " hold, ye savage murderers! back,
back, or I will sever your heads from your bodies."
He tore his darling child from Morton's grasp, and
aimed a furious blow at his head. The stroke fell




200            TRADITIONS OF
upon a dragoon who had interfered, and by it he
was stunned and driven backwards, and a second
blow laid another trooper bleeding on the floor.
Morton retreated to the entry, overawed by the
terrific aspect of Glendinning, who was like a
towering giant armed with the might of twenty
men; and suspecting that others were at hand to
aid him in the conflict, as he did not think it cre.
dible that one man durst venture alone, and without immediate support, into the midst of an armed
band of troopers, he withdrew, and recalling his
men, speedily left the place. After the departure
of the soldiers, Glendinning soothed his wife and
child the best way he could. They had met with
a hard beginning, but it was not unexpected.
The God in whom they trusted had preserved
their lives, and for this their hearts swelled with
gratitude; and the trying incident, instead of
causing them to swerve from their purpose, confirened them  the more in their good resolutions,
and led them to a firmer trust in the Saviour, and
to a closer dependence on the God of their life.
c Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore
will I deliver him; I will set him on high, because
he hath known my name.' Glendinning and his
wife now plainly saw that there was no rest nor
safety for them in their native land, and they resolved to emigrate to Holland, which was an asylum to the persecuted people of God in Scotland.
He was, it is said, a well-educated man, had a
good address, and was endued with great martial
heroism; an-d, through the kindness of some
friends and gentlemen, he was introduced to the
Prince of Orange, who promoted him to an honourable post in his army. His behaviour amply
justified the good opinion which the Prince and




THE COVENANTERS.            201
others had been led to form  of him.  He returned at the Revolution an officer in the Prince's
army, and fought at the battle of Killicrankie
where Claverhouse fell, and where he witnessed
the death of his former antagonist, Morton. Thus
did God preserve and prosper this worthy man,
who, for the sake of the truth, was willing to abandon all he possessed on earth, and even his own
life.' Them that honour me, I will honour.'
The locality in which these incidents occurred
calls to mind the good Cargill, who, at Hindbottom in the neighbouring wilds, preached the gospel to the children of the desert. He was a man
remarkable for the holiness of his life. He was
unwearied in his Master's service, preaching in
season and out of season, and was favoured with
much success in his ministry.  He lived very
near God, and in the blessed enjoyment of the assurance of his salvation for thirty years, and ended
his course by an honourable martyrdom.  He
frequently resided at Covington mill, the place
where, after much searching for him, he was
finally seized by Irvine of Bonshaw, who, when
he apprehended him, exclaimed in ecstacy:," O
blessed Bonshaw, and blessed be the day that ever
I was born, that has found such a prize,-a prize
of 5000 merks, for apprehending of him this
morning."  Andrew Fisher of Covington mill, it
would appear, was one of those who opened his
door to the suffering servants of Christ in the day
when their enemies forbade, on the penalty of
death, or the confiscation of property, any to re.
ceive them into their houses, or to minister to their
necessities. On one occasion, during his stay at
the house of this good man, his enemies visited
the place in quest of him. On his perceiving their




202            TRADITIONS OF
approach he retired from the dwelling-house, and
Andrew Fisher concealed him in the under part
of the adjacent kiln. The place into which he
crept was deeply covered with the ashes of the
material which had been burnt for the purpose of
drying the corn spread on the floor above. The
walls and the roof were thickly coated with a
dusty and sooty substance, which was easily shaken off by the gentlest touch, or blown into a
cloud by the slightest breath.  The height of the
apartment might allow a man to stand upright, if
his feet were buried so deep in the ashes as to
reach the floor below. In this seclusion he placed
himself exactly under one of the broad beams,
which, in those simple times when modern improvements were unknown, supported the crossspars on which was spread the straw, which prevented the grain from falling through into the cavity beneath. When the search in the house was
completed, the soldiers proceeded to the kiln to
make investigation there.  When they came to
the place, instead of entering the kiln logie or fireplace below, a pit of darkness and dust, they, went
to the kilnhead or upper apartment, where the corn
is spread out for drying. Having examined every
corner, and tossed about the straw which lay on
the floor, they thrust their long sharp swords down
between the narrow  spars on each side of the
broad beam under which Mr Cargill was crouching, with a view to ascertain what was beneath.
He saw the clear blade of the deadly weapon close
at his shoulder or at his breast, as he happened to
turn himself under the beam; and he could easily
have grasped it and snapped it in two; but then,
such an incident would have revealed the secret
which he had no desire to disclose. In this un



THE COVENANTERb.              203
comfortable situation he continued praying in his
heart, and looking up to God for protection, till
the soldiers, having abandoned the search, left the
place.  When the risk of detection was over, he
emerged from his sooty cell, having sustained no
injury farther than the inconvenience of a disagreeable posture and soiled garments. Better it
is, however, to have one's raiment sullied in such
circumstances, than to have the character sullied
by foul compliances, as was too frequently the
case in those days of trial, when many took
offence at the cross of Christ, and went back and
walked no more with him.
" Though ye have lien among the pots,
Like doves ye shall appear,
Whose wings with silver, and with gold
Whose feathers covered are.'
Mr. Cargill along with his friend escaped on this
occasion, and was preserved for a greater length
of time for the work which he had yet to perform.
He delighted to frequent the desert, both because
there he had an opportunity of preaching the gospel with less interruption, and because there in the
wilds was many a hallowed spot that was very
dear to him as the scene of Christian martyrdom.
The recollections of the sufferings of their brethren in the solitudes, bound the covenanters as with
a charm to the wilderness; and the Saviour, near
his people in affliction, seems to have retired with
them.  " Surely," said Mr. Renwick, " if God
could be tied to a spot, it would, methinks, be to
the moors of Scotland; the mosses and the mountains of the west are flowered with martyrs."




204             TRADITIONS OF
CHAPTER XV.
William Cochrane-Wanderings.
IN the county of Fife there lived a family of the
name of Cochrane, in humble life, but a family of
great worth, and warmly devoted to the covenant.
ing interest. It seems to have been in some of
the more remote parts of the district that this
household had its quiet abode, and where meetings
of religious persons were frequently held with less
annoyance than in other places. It was indeed
no easy matter for a covenanter to live unobserved
in this part of the kingdom in the days of prelatic
usurpation, considering that the Archbishop's seat
was here, the vigilance of whose supervision it
was difficult to elude. Notwithstanding the seclusion of this family, however, their enemies often
found their way to the dwelling, and, humble as
it was, it was plundered by the ruthless banditti
that traversed the country at large for the purpose
of rapine and slaughter. An idle and unprinci.
pled soldiery, led on by men whose hearts were
indurated against all pity, committed in their lawless raids a havoc which, in point of extent and of
atrocity, it is impossible to describe.  The rich
and the poor, who complied not with the measures
of the times, were indiscriminately attacked and
maltreated as if they had been the basest mis.
creants on the face of the earth. The families
and individuals that constituted the worth of the
land, were the chief objects of the persecuting




THE COVENANTERS.             205
malignity of those who ruled in high places, and
who felt not themselves at ease so long as a renm
nant of such worth was found lingering among
them.
At this distance of time, nothing is retained of
any of the branches of this pious family, except
William, the subject of this sketch.  This family
was often kept in a state of great alarm on account of the frequent and hasty visits of the sol.
diers. It happened that the venerable father of
the household was taken very ill, and was obviously on his death-bed.  This occasioned a
more than ordinary coming and going among
friends and neighbours, who wished to show all
respect and attention to the dying saint.  The
bustle which, on this account, was created was
noticed by those who were ever ready to give information to the enemy when any thing apparently suspicious was going on. The concourse
of religious persons to the house of the dying
man was regarded in the light of a conventicle,
and the news speedily reached the ears of those
whose work was to suppress such meetings. Accordingly, a troop of horsemen was sent to surprise the lowly dwelling, and to disperse the assembly.  It was in the night that the meetings
were said to be held, and this was consequently
the season adopted by the military for the purpose of investing the hut. One evening, when
the shades of night were beginning to close in, a
messenger in breathless haste arrived at the
house, with the intelligence that a company of
troopers were just at hand.  He had no sooner
made the announcement than the soldiers were at
the door, and hearing the sound of the singing of
psalms, they exultingly concluded that they had
18




206            TRADITIONS OF
found an illegal meeting.  Without ceremony
they entered the dwelling, and in their usually
uproarious manner, rushed into the midst of the
apartment.  To their surprise, however, they met
with only three women, waiting by the couch of
the sick man, and who were, at the time that the
troopers invaded the place, employed in those religious exercises, which were suitable to the condition of a dying believer.  What a credit does
this reflect on those pious females, those mothers
in Israel, who were neither ashamed nor unable
to engage in such spiritual duties. They were
ministering to one of Christ's people in affliction,
and labouring to smooth his pillow in the hour of
his affliction, and endeavouring, by their united
supplications, to help him in his passage through
the Jordan to the land of rest.
The manner of the troopers formed a striking
contrast to the religious demeanour of the inmates
of the hut. Their entrance was like the rushing
of the wrathful tempest that sweeps suddenly over
the placid bosom of the glassy lake. Their disappointment in not meeting with a well-packed
conventicle, as they expected, filled them with
rage, and they gave vent to their angry feelings
in blasphemous and abusive language, declaring
that the old man was not sick, but only acting
under a pretence.  His deathlike aspect was no
reason to them why he should claim exemption
from their rude treatment, and, like persons in
whose breasts the last lingering sympathies of humanity were extinguished, they dragged him with
brutal violence fiom his bed into the midst of the
floor. In this situation they began to torture
him, for the purpose of obtaining information respecting his associates who were in concealment




THE COVENANTERS.             207
but all they could extort were groans from  the
man, who was past speaking, and on the verge of
eternity.
The good old man died in the morning; and his
emancipated spirit got beyond the reach of persecuting insult, and his lifeless body was insensible
to the contumelious treatment to which his heartless enemies might be disposed to subject it. The
night immediately prior to the death of Cochrane's
father was one of great distress to the inhabitants
of the secluded cottage, not only on account of the
affliction of the head of the family, whose end was
fast approaching, but also on account of the companions with whom they were doomed that night
to lodge.  The dragoons, either because they
thought the night too murky to venture home, or
because they expected that some of the male connections, of whom they were in quest, would in all
likelihood call at the house, when all was quiet, to
visit the afflicted man, determined to remain till
the morning.  It is easy to conceive how unpleasant the presence of such unmannerly and profane
persons must have been, in the circumstances of
the household. The company of rough, swearing
men must have been very unsuitable in the chamber of death, and hlirassing to the feelings of those
who wished to minister spiritual consolation to
him whose soul was about to pass into the unseen
state. The scene which the soldiers witnessed,
however, was certainly calculated to make a deep
impression on them; the Christian behaviour of
the women, and the dying struggles of the patient,
in a lonely hut, during the dreary hours of midnight, had all a tendency to bring before their
minds the realities of that eternity into which they
themselves were shortly to pass.




208            TRADITIONS OF
In the morning the troopers retired, leaving the
women with the dead body.  They were in all
probability glad to escape from the scene, which
must have excited feelings by no means agreeable
to them.  Notwithstanding the distress of this
household, however, the party to whom the troopers returned, determined to send another detachrnent to the same place on the following evening,
as they thought it likely that William, the individual whom  they chiefly wanted, would, on
hearing of the death of his father, without fail visit
the house. Accordingly, about the dusk, a company of soldiers came unexpectedly to Cochrane's
dwelling, and entered it in the confidence of finding the young man within.  To their disappointment, nevertheless, they met with none but females, who were watching in the house by the
corpse that lay in its shroud on the bed. There
was a hallowed stillness in the apartment, and a
deep solemnity on the countenances of the attendants, that had a tendency to repress the levity
of the troopers, and to overawe their spirits. But
whatever might be the impressions they at first
felt, these were soon effaced, and they asked abruptly for William Cochrane and his associates.
The women, timid and helpless as they were, refused to give any information that might lead
to a discovery.  The dragoons vaunted  and
threatened, but could elicit nothing; for the party
interrogated were determined to endure anything
rather than inform on their friends.  When they
saw  that they could not prevail in this way,
they had recourse to stratagem.
Among the females who were assembled on this
occasion in the house of mourning, was the wife




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~~~`~~~~`~~~~`~~~~~`~~~~` ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 1 i    NV'~~~~~~~~~~~IN
-j!!
~Tle infant scieamed, and the mother ian to rescue him fioni the i ide
grasp of the diagoon, but neithei teais nor entieaties prevailed.
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THE COVENANTERS.              209
of William Cochrane, who, with pious care, had
tended the last moments of her venerated fatherin-law.  Sitting in the circle with an infant child
on her knee, she was particularly noticed by the
troopers, who, it seems, understood that she was
the wife of him whom  they had come to apprehend.  One of the soldiers, when he saw  that
nothing could be extorted respecting her husband,
snatched the child fiom  his mother's arms, and
bounded to the door. The infant screamed, and
the mother ran to rescue him from the rude grasp
of the dragoon; but neither tears nor entreaties
prevailed. The powerful soldier retained his prize,
but used no means to repress the crying of the
child, judging that either the mother, to save the
babe's life, would reveal the hiding-place of her
husband, or that the father, on hearing the cries
of the mother and child, would instantly hasten
to their assistance. In this the soldiers were not
disappointed; for Cochrane, whose secret retreat
was not far from the spot, hearing the noise, and
perceiving what had taken place, darted from his
concealment, and sprang forward to recover his
child.  Cochrane was not alone; there was with
him in his hiding-place a companion in suffering,
who for his nonconformist principles was obliged
to keep himself in secret from those who sought
his life.  This man assisted his friend in delivering his family from  the ruffian hands of the
troopers.
One of the dragoons fired on Cochrane, but the
shot only grazed his clothes. -The other then
threw the child on the ground, and took his aim,
but the musket missed fire, and the attempt was
rendered harmless.  Cochrane then prepared his
fire-arms, and aimed at his opponent; but, being
18*




210             TRADITIONS OF
unwilling to kill him, sent the whizzing ball
through the fleshy part of one of his legs, and by
this means disabled him. Cochrane's companion
rushed on the other trooper with a club, which he
held in his hand, and inflicted on his person a
stroke so potent as to stun him, and to lay him
powerless on the ground. It is said that the blow
with the club proved fatal, and that the unhappy
man expired on the spot.  This soldier, whose
name is not given, is said to have been a particular
favourite of Clavers, and that it was the intention
of this cavalier to promote him in the king's service.
This would say that the man was characterized
for deeds of daring  and  cruelty beyond  his
fellows, on account of which he had especially recommended himself to the favour of his masters.
The party with which the two troopers were
connected, but who had not approached the house,
had hid themselves near the place where they
thought Cochrane was likely to be concealed, that
they might more easily apprehend him when he
should first issue from his retreat. The place
where they lay in ambush was near a marshy
piece of ground, which was between them and the
cottage; so that, when they heard the firing in the
dusk, they were not fully aware of the impediment which lay in the way of their approach to
their companions. Cochrane, who by this time
understood that a party was in waiting beyond
the marsh, and knowing that it would be a good
while before they could come round to the ground
where the skirmish had taken place, was the more
deliberate in adjusting matters before he left the
spot.  He approached the wounded man, who
begged him to spare his life. " I have no intention to take your life," said Cochrane, " for had 1




THE COVENANTERS.             211
designed that, I could easily have aimed at a more
vital part of the body, and as a proof that it is necessity and not inclination that leads us to employ
our arms, I will bind up your wound to prevent
the loss of blood. I have spared your life, and
now do you all that you can to mitigate the fury
of your companions when they arrive, and show
them the bandage about your leg as a witness of
my clemency."  The soldier promised, but added,
"the death of that other man will be amply revenged, and therefore escape without a moment's
delay."
Cochrane, with his wife and child, removed
fiom the spot, and sought concealment from the
face of the vengeful men who were fast approaching.  As this worthy man and his were obliged
to flee for their lives, and to abandon the place
where they had so long lived together, they arranged matters respecting their property in the
best manner they could; and, having committed
the child to the care of a female relation, who
cherished it with all the tenderness of a mother's
affection, they took their departure.
It was now a matter of deliberation with them
to what part of the country they should direct
their course. The more plain and exposed districts of the land afforded less security to the wanderers than the mountainous localities, and they
agreed to seek a place of refuge in the higher
parts of the south-west.  The upland tracts of
Lanarkshire or Nithsdale were the frequent resort
of the oppressed people, who sought in the heart
of their dreariest wilds an asylum from the wrath
of the  persecutor.  A  considerable sum  was
offered for Cochrane's apprehension, which obliged
him and his wife to travel by night, and to hide




212             TRADITIONS OF
by day.  Tt happened, however, when they were
on their journey, that the hour of Mrs. Cochrane's
maternal solicitude came unexpectedly upon her.
and an untimely birth was the consequence.  Fatigue, fear, and anxiety, no doubt contributed to
this result.  In this painful situation, application
for admittance was made at the door of a hut, in
the immediate neighbourhood of which they happened to be; but the woman of the house manifested no small reluctance to receive under her
roof persons of the description which she understood them  to be.  A  sum  of money, however,
from the hand of the husband, settled the matter,
and a temporary resting-place was secured for his
afflicted wife. As soon as circumstances permitted,
Cochrane, for whom  a vigilant search was now
being made, left his wife in the charge of the wo.
man, and set out on his wanderings habited in female apparel to avoid detection.  In travelling
southward, he shunned as much as posssible the
public thoroughfares, and, traversing the bypaths
that lay in his route, he at length crossed the
heights of Douglas, and arrived at Crawfordjohn.
Crawfordjohn is a parish on the southern border of the upper ward of Lanarkshire, and must,
in the days of our persecuted forefathers, have
been of a peculiarly wild description, and exactly such a locality as could afford a retreat to the
oppressed worthies of the covenant.  It forms a
part of the middle district between Nithsdale and
Douglasdale, and was near the point to which
fugitives from  each of these places would natlrally resort.  The seclusion of this place must
have been uninterrupted by roads, and the marshy levels, along which flows the dark and sluggish Duneaton, would bid defiance to the intrusion




THE COVENANTERS.              213
of the troopers.  The heights stretching  from
Crawfordjohn, in the direction of Leadhills, present a frowning and solitary aspect, having on
the east the majestic Lowther hills, which exhibit the boldest point of scenery in the southwest, and are the boast of the wide district in the
midst of which they stand.  Among these hills
is to be found many a dreary glen, in the solitudes
of which the wanderers selected a place of retirement.  There is a cleuch in Midden-coats-hill, in
this parish, which is said to have been a place
where conventicles were held, and where the
words of eternal life were published in the audience of many an eager listener. Besides the seclusion of this spot, there is an extensive view
towards the east, so that no intruders from  this
quarter could approach without being seen in the
distance; and the moors of Blackburn and Netherton were a barrier to the horsemen, who might
attempt to venture into their morasses. For these
reasons, it appears to have been selected as a
place of comparative security for the occasional
gatherings of the wanderers, and others, to hear
the gospel.
The farm-house of Glendowring, in Crawfordjohn, was the spot where Cochrane first found a
resting-place. At this place he was employed in
the capacity of a farm-servant; and it being the
time of harvest, he made himself very useful both
in the field, and in the barn.  Whether the family that lived in Glendowring were covenanters
or not, tradition does not say; but it is every way
likely that they  were, and  that they received
Cochrane into their house with good will, as a
sufferer in the common cause.  It was the wish
of our w )rthy during his residence here, to make




214             TRADITIONS OF
himself as little known as possible, lest even il
this seclusion his enemies might discover him;
and some say, that he acted for some time in the
mysterious character of a Brownie, one of a race
of which the people of Scotland, at that period,
indulged a superstitious dread, but a harmless
name, under the covert of which many a hapless
covenanter was sheltered. While at Glendowring,
Cochrane embraced every opportunity of stealing
to the conventicles, which happened to be held in
the neighbouring solitudes. Of those conventicles,
one is particularly mentioned as having been kept
by Alexander Shiels, near the head of the farfamed Enterkin in the high lands, where escape
was easy in case of an attack by the dragoons.
On this conventicle Cochrane was an attendant;
and on the way home he got acquainted with
some Christian friends, one of whom was a woman
of the name of M'Naughton, from Evandale, who
had resorted to the meeting with others who had
come from afar. To this worthy person he revealed his situation, and expressed his concern on
account of his wife, whom he was obliged to leave
at a distance in a very precarious condition. Mrs
M'Naughton, who seems to have been a woman
of great sagacity and goodness, proposed a plan of
conveying intelligence to his wife, and of bringing her with secrecy and safety to the south.  A
trusty individual, probably Mrs. M'Naughton's
own daughter, as we find her concerned in the
scheme, was sent to seek Mrs. Cochrane, and to
bring her to her husband. The person despatched
on this mission of kindness was successful, and
found her so much recovered, that she was able
to prosecute the journey.  In a short time she
was restored to her husband; and we may easily




THE COX ENANTERS.             215
conceive their mutual congratulations, when, in
providence, they were permitted once more to
meet in life and health, notwithstanding the snares
which were on all sides laid for them.'I will
bring the blind by a way that they know not;
I will lead them  in paths that they have not
known; I will make dairkness light before them,
and crooked things straight: these will I do unto
them, and not forsake them.'
It appears that Cochrane left Glendowring immediately on the arrival of his wife, and probably
went to Evandale for a few days, to consult on
what was best to be done.  Danger was threatening on all sides, for every part of the country
was infested with troopers and spies, who were
constantly searching for wanderers. No place
was safe, neither on the trackless moor nor on the
king's highway; and to reside more than a few
weeks, or even a few days in one place, was attended with the greatest risk.  Cochrane therefore saw it prudent to change his abode, and more
especially as his wife was now with him.
After having maturely considered the matter,
they resolved to retire to Ireland till the storm
should in some measure abate; and knowing that
their beloved child was in good keeping, their
minds were more at rest.  It was in Ireland that
many of our Scottish worthies sought refuge from
the face of their oppressors, though even there
they were not without molestation.  Cochrane
and his wife, it would appear, remained in Emerald
Isle till the red sword of persecution in Scotland
was thrust into its scabbard.  It was near the
termination of the suffering period when they fled
across the sea, so that the time of their exile
could not be of long duration.  It is said that our




216             TRADITIONS OF
worthy fought in the patriot army in Ireland, and
that he behaved with very great bravery.  It is
probable that he visited Scotland immediately
after the reign of oppression ended, and that he
returned to Ireland to assist in the army of king
William.
The time and the place of the death of this
worthy couple are not given, but their ashes repose in hope, and the principles for which they
contended live after them.
CHAPTER  XVI.
Lady Greenhill-the Confession-the Charter-chest-the
Door-the Plaid.
THE barbarity of those whose work it was to op.
press and destroy  our worthy forefathers, for
their attachment to the cause of truth, seems to
have increased as the persecuting period advanced
towards its termination.  The wicked men who
were engaged in deeds of cruelty, became more
hardened, and more dexterous in the perpetration
of crime; and Satan, knowing that his time was
but short, exerted himself with greater energy and
fury, and excited in the breasts of his agents, a
spirit of uncommon ferocity.  Individuals who,
during the earlier part of the persecution, were
allowed to remain in comparative quiet, were,
during the latter years, subjected to the same
treatment as others.  Neither the bloom of maiden
innocence and beauty, nor the wailings of helpless
childhood, nor the entreaties of the widowed mo.




THE COVENANTERS.             217
ther, could prevail with those whose hearts were
dead to every soft emotion and every generous
feeling. The delicacy of sex yielded no protection
to the pious maiden, and the domestic privacy
afforded no shelter to the worthy matron in those
days of tribulation and misrule.
Mrs. Renton, the subject of the following traditionary notices, was born in the parish of Doug.
las, and descended of a worthy family of the name
of Summerville, in the same place. She was, at
the time tradition brings her into view, a widow.
She had been married to the proprietor of a small
estate called Greenhill, in the parish of Wiston.
The mansion house of the manor was situated at
a short distance from the base of Tinto, the vicinity of which was the scene of much persecuting
violence.
Respecting the religious character of Mrs.Renton's husband, tradition has said nothing. She
herself, however, was a woman of real piety, and
her abode was the ready asylum of the houseless
wanderer, who had voluntarily left all for Christ's
sake.  Lady Greenhill as she was familiarly denominated, according to the custom of the times,
was regarded as an influential person in the dis.
trict where she resided, and her example was
therefore considered as the more pernicious.  It
was known that she was guilty of reset and har.
bour, as well as of being attached in principle to
the cause of the covenanters, and hence the ruling party determined, if possible, to bring her to
another way of thinking. In the district in which
she lived, the lady was not solitary in her nonconformist practices. The parts about Tinto were
often visited by the oueted ministers, and especially
by the good Cargill, whose ministrations in that
19




218             TRADITIONS OF
neighbourhood were attended  with  uncommor
success; and consequently many, in these places,
were reared up to bear witness to the truth in the
day of defection.  Patrick Walker says, that Mr.
Cargill had great delight in coming to Clydesdale,
because here he had the greatest liberty in preaching and praying; and several other ministers, he
adds, at that time, did the same.  There were
many " solid and serious Christians" in the places
round Tinto, whose houses afforded a retreat to
the sufferers, and Greenhill was one of them.
On this account says the same writer, the persecution raged very hotly in the upper ward of La.
narkshire, and particularly in the vicinity of
Tinto, during what he terms the "two slaughter
years of 1684 and'85."  It was very probably
about this time that Greenhill was so often the
scene of danger.
One day in the busy season of harvest, Claverhouse and his troopers suddenly made their appearance before Greenhill.  The labours of the
field at this period require the assistance of every
hand, and few refuse to lend their aid in securing
the yellow treasures which the ripening autumn
has presented to the husbandman. Harvest is the
most hilarious time of the year.  It is the season
which crowns the hopes of the agriculturist, and
fills his heart with gladness.  It is the season
when the swains pour forth from the cottages, in
joyous mood, to assail with the gleaming sickle
the spacious corn-fields, waving their golden produce in the rustling breeze.  In that more homely age to which this sketch refers, the household
of the laird, and the family of the cottar, took
their places side by side on the harvest rig, and
plied with buoyant spirits and willing hands the




THE COVENANTERS.               219
labours of the field.  When Clavers arrived at
Greenhill, he found none of the domestics within,
and the reapers had just finished their mid-day repast, and were again in the field"Swelling the lusty sheaves,
While through their cheerful band the rural talk,
The rural scandal, and the rural jest,
Flew harmless."
Lady Greenhill that day occupied the place of
a servant within doors, preparing the meals for
the reapers at the stated hours, while all the inmates were sent to assist in the pleasant toil of
shearing.  The lady belonged to a class of house.
wives, of which there is now, in the same rank of
life, scarcely a remnant to be found. No portion
of her time was spent in trifling, useless pursuits,.
and idle visits. By her the harpsichord was not
struck for the purpose of killing a vacant hour,
nor was the toilet made an altar on which to offer
sacrifice to her personal vanity. The object of
this truly virtuous lady was to imitate the apostolic injunction to women professing godliness,' Whose adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or
of putting on of apparel; but let it be in the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corrup.
tible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit,
which in the sight of God is of great price'; for in
this manner, in the old time, the holy women also
who trusted in God adorned themselves.'  There
is a gaiety, and a frivolity, and a worldly affectalion among some religious professors, which plainly
indicates what manner of spirit they are of; and
hence, as an excellent writer remarks, " were
Christ and his apostles now  on earth, in their




220             TRADITIONS OF
plain and lowly form, it is much to be feared that
they would be thought hardly good company
enough for many of the present race of genteel
and modish professors of religion."
The lady of Greenhill was a grave and prudent
woman, and did not think it beneath her to engage,
when necessity required, in menial occupations;
she had too much good sense, and true moral dignity, to be ashamed of this. In this respect she
resembled the virtuous woman, whose character
is finely drawn by the pen of inspiration. " She
seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with
her hands; she girdeth her loins with strength,
and strengtheneth her arms.  She layeth her
hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff; she stretcheth out her hand to the poor, yea,
she reaches forth her hands to the needy.  She
openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in hex
tongue is the law of kindness; she looketh well
to the ways of her household, and eateth not the
bread of idleness."
The troopers, as has been stated, arrived at
Greenhill immediately after the departure of the
reapers to the harvest-field; and nobody was left
within but the lady, who was busily employed in
her domestic duties. The trampling of the feet of
the horses, and then a loud knocking at the door,
announced the arrival of a party of visitors, by
no means welcome.  Being taken by surprise, she
was for a moment in perplexity whether to seek
a place of concealment, or to open the door to the
intruders. Finding, however, that it would be
in vain to attempt to secrete herself within the
house, she resolved, as the only alternative, to
meet them  at the door.  Accordingly, having
roused herself to resolution, and having put up a




THE COVENANTERS.            221
mental prayer to the Preserver of her life, she
unbarred the door, and admitted the bustling
troopers. " Is Lady Greenhill within?" vociferated the commander of the party. " I am Lady
Greenhill," was her cool and ready answer.  "If,"
replied Clavers, " you were the lady, you would
not so readily acknowledge it." Claverhouse had
never seen her before, and consequently could not
recognise her; and the servile dress with which
she was then habited tended to lull suspicion, and
not one of the party ever dreamed that she was
any other than one of the lady's female servants.
Claverhouse thinking that the supposed servant
wished to amuse herself by attempting to practice
a harmless deception on the gallant troopers, in
passing herself off as the lady of the mansion,
pushed his way into the interior, and entered the
parlour, expecting to find Mrs. Renton seated at
her ease, and without more ado to make her his
prisoner on the spot. The commander not having
found her, as he anticipated, asked again, in a
firmer and more impatient tone, where the lady
was.  The lady, observing that she was not recognised, began to think that under this disguise
she might probably escape detection, if she could
act her part so as not to weaklen the impression
that she was really a household servant.  Accordingly, when the question was again asked by
the cavalier, she replied, " I am all that you will
get for Lady Greenhill to-day."  On this the
troopers were enraged, and with deep oaths declared that the lady was certainly within, and
that they would not leave the place till they found
her.  They proceeded instantly to the search,
and the house was ransacked from cellar to garret. The lady all the while preserved her incog19 *




222            TRADITIONS OF
nito, acted well her part, and sustained the cha.
racter of an active and industrious Scottish maiden.
The noisy and mischievous dragoons were racing
about, and rambling through every apartment ol
the dwelling-house; and the lady, safe in the disguise of a servant, and apparently entirely at her
ease, was occupied in the toils of the kitchen, and
intent only on her work.  The soldiers having
accomplished their eager search without success,
were greatly chagrined at their disappointment,
and vented their rage in blasphemous language.
Finding it in vain to pursue their object any further, they began to make preparations for their
departure. Having regaled themselves with what
food and liquor they could find, and having in revenge destroyed what they could not consume,
they despatched the supposed servant to fetch a
man from the field, to conduct them through the
pass of Howgate Mouth, on their way to Lanark.
Howgate Mouth is a deep and rugged defile,
which intersects the western declivity of Tinto.
In the days of our forefathers it was rather a dangerous pass, especially to those on horseback; and
hence the necessity of a guide for the safe conduct
of travellers. That necessity happily does not
now exist, as a good thoroughfare has been made
through it. The dragoons moved along the defile,
following the track of their cautious guide, who
led them down with all the precision he could.
As they were passing onward, they began to in.
terrogate the man concerning the lady, and endeavoured to obtain some information respecting
her retreat.  i Yon," said he, " was the lady that
cried me frae the craft, everybody is on the rig
the day but hersel." On this the commander of
the party imagined that the man was wishing to




THE COVENANTERS.             223
impose on him in the same way as the supposed
female servant in the house; and not being dis.
posed to receive any farther jests on the subject,
he drew his sword, and demanded a distinct reply
to his questions, respecting the hiding-place of' his
mistress.  The man could give no other answer
than he had already given; and he continued
firmly to assert, that the female they met in the
house was the identical person of whom they were
in quest. His asseverations, however, were not
credited by the soldiers; and they proceeded to
belabour him with the broad side of their drawn
swords, declaring that if he persisted in conceal.
ing the truth, he should do so at the expense of
aching bones.  On every repetition of the blows,
which the dragoons, by way of amusement to
themselves, so liberally applied to his back and
shoulders, his reply was uniformly  the same,
" yon was just the lady, though." At last, having sufficiently chastised his obstinacy, as they
thought, and having got beyond the dangers of
the pass, they dismissed him to tell his tale of wo
to the merry reapers; and whether the cudgelling
he had received rendered him unable to wield the
sickle for the remainder of the day, tradition does
not say.
On this occasion, the worthy lady escaped in a
way she did not expect. She could not tell a lie
when interrogated by her enemies; and He who
desires truth in the inward parts, was pleased to
shield her from discovery.
After the incident which has just now been
narrated, the lady saw the necessity of adopting
precautionary means, in case of a subsequent attack; and accordingly she prepared a hiding-place
to which in the hour of danger she might retreat




224             TRADITIONS OF
The dragoons, as was anticipated, were not long
an paying Greenhill another visit, for the purpose
of apprehending its mistress. Notice of their ap.
proach was intimated to the lady, who instantly
fled to her concealment.  The soldiers, in their
usually disorderly and unmannerly way, entered
the house and commenced a strict search. They
continued in their work of mischief and impertinence, till an incident occurred, which put a stop
to their proceedings for that day.  The lady's
little daughter, a girl of ten years of age, happened
to follow the soldiers to a room, which was sub.
jected to a very minute search.  In this apartment there happened to be a certain piece of fur.
niture, in the form of a handsome little chest.
One of the dragoons, on observing it, exclaimed,
Here is the lady's charter-chest; let us examine
its contents, and we may perchance find some.
thing that will reward our morning's toil. On his
opening the lid of this chest, the little girl, who
stood immediately behind the plundering dragoon,
pushed him forward and pressed the lid upon his
hand.  The dishonoured trooper finding his mis.
take, raised himself from his position, and, red
with rage and disappointment, turned round upon
the girl, who rushed impetuously from the cham.
ber.  The soldier stormed, and swore, and drew
his sword to pursue.  " Hold, sirrah," exclaimed
the officer in command, amused at the mortification of his gallant trooper, " hold, and at your
peril venture to touch a hair of her head; I like
the spunk of the girl, and for the present I will
permit the old fox to abide in her concealment,
for the sport which the young one has afforded
us."  No further search was made, and the party
instantly left the.lace.




THE COVENANTERS.            225
Some time after this, the worthy matron of
Greenhill was again assailed in her castle, by
her old enemies the troopers. One evening, when
the rays of the setting sun were gilding the
summit of the lofty Tinto, and when the shadows of the mountains were stretching far into
the valleys, a messenger, in breathless haste,
announced to the household of Greenhill, that a
company of troopers were rapidly approaching.
There was not a moment for deliberation; the lady
fled from the house, and concealed herself in an
adjoining building. The house of Greenhill was
an erection of feudal times, and was sufficiently
strong to afford protection against the roving
bands of rival Barons. Connected with the man.
sion-house was a large court, formed by ranges of
office-houses; and it was here that, in the olden
times, the cattle were driven for security, when
there was any apprehension of the Anandale and
other border thieves being abroad. Claverhouse
sent his troopers into every apartment of the
dwelling-house, and they failed not to accomplish
a most unsparing search; but, after all their pains,
they were unsuccessful, the lady was not to be
found. This additional disappointment enraged
Claverhouse excessively.  The extent of devastation committed within the house on this occasion
is not mentioned; but we are informed that, on
their departure, they conceived the scheme of
barricading the building in such a way, as that
neither Ingress nor egress might be effected.  He
commanded his powerful and vengeful dragoons to
secure every window and door, in the firmest
manner, exclaiming, that since it was the lady's
pleasure to go out, it was his that she should not
go in. The injunction was instantly obeyed, and




226            TRADITIONS OF
every door and aperture were closed and fastened,
and the keys carried off by the doughty troopers.
By this means it was believed that no small degree of annoyance and trouble would be given to
the good lady and her domestics, while the soldiers
departed pleased with the thought, that they had
at least wrought some mischief in keeping with
their lawless occupation.
On the withdrawment of the soldiers, the lady
issued from her concealment, and, in company with
the servants, who had now assembled in the court,
found the house in the situation described. An
attempt to gain admittance at doors and windows
was made, but without success. At last, the lady,
when trial had been made at the different doors
without being able to effect an entrance, observing
one that had not been attempted, laid her fingers
on the handle, and immediately the door swung
back upon its hinges, to the astonishment of the
domestics, some of whom asserted that it was as
firmly locked and barred as the others, and insinuated that a special providence had interposed and
removed the obstacles which their united efforts
could not otherwise have been able to accomplish.
The lady, however, entertained no such notions;
she saw at once that the leaving of the door
unlocked was an oversight on the part of the
dragoons, and that Providence had no doubt or.
dered it so; but she had no belief of anything
miraculous in the case. The gratitude of this
good woman, on account of this seasonable deliverance, may easily be conceived; and, in reference to the event of that evening, as being a
token of the divine kindness to herself and her
household, she could lay her head on her pillow,
and say,




THE COVENANTERS.               227
"Our soul's escaped as a bird
Out of the fowler's snare;
The snare asunder broken is,
And we escaped are."
And in the morning, after the protection and sweet
repose of the night, she could unite with the Psalmist again, and sing with a glad heart,
"I laid me down and slept, I waked,
For God sustained me;
I will not fear though thousands ten
Set round against me be."
There is in the life of this good woman another
incident worthy of recording, which veritable tradition has preserved. One day when she happened to be in the field among the cattle, that were
grazing peacefully on the flowery lea, she observed
a company of troopers sweeping along the base of
Tinto, and advancing in the direction of Greenhill.
She was irresolute for a moment; to return to the
house without attracting their notice was impossible, and the open fields afforded no hiding-place.
On the descent of the troopers, however, into a
hollow, which for a little concealed her from their
view, she hastily snatched the plaid from the
shoulders of the girl that tended the cows, and
having wrapped it round herself, as if she was the
person whose employment was to watch the cattle,
she sat down on the grass to wait the result. The
cavalcade came on apace, and, without seeming to
take notice of her, rode hastily past at a short distance from the place where she was sitting. She
turned her head warily round, and, with a palpitating heart, saw the party dismount at Greenhill
During their stay in the house her anxiety was
intense, but her solicitude was even greater when




228             TRADITIONS OF
she saw them preparing to depart. "Am I discover.
ed?" said she to herself, " has any of my household been compelled to point me out to the enemy? and is my time now come when I shall be
captured sitting here defenceless in the field?  To
thee, O thou Preserver of my life, thou  God
of my salvation, I resign myself; help me to
glorify thee, whether it be by life or by death."
While these busy cogitations occupied her mind,
she observed, to her inexpressible relief, the troopers, with their commander in advance, wheel round
and ride off in an opposite direction. They soon
disappeared, and she returned to the house with
a heart swelling with grateful emotions, to Him
who had so wonderfully shielded her in the hour
of peril; and this was the last time she was disturbed by the marauding persecutors.  We are
not however to suppose, that these few incidents
were all that befell this pious woman, from first
to last; there were doubtless many other trials to
which she was subjected by the enemy, which
tradition has not retained.
Lady Greenhill lived many years after the per.
secution.  She maintained a godly and useful and
consistent life, and at last closed her eyes in peace,
in hope of eternal life, through that Saviour in
whose cause she had been honoured to suffer not
a little. Her ashes repose in the ancient churchyard of St. Bride's, of Douglas.
Lady Greenhill preserved an unshaken attachment to her principles, in those troublous times
in which her lot was cast; and this is more than
can be affirmed of some of her immediate neighbours, in the same rank of life   The lady of St.
John's Kirk was what is termed a i' high professor," and seemed to be inalienably attached to the




THE COVENANTERS.             229
principles of the covenanters, and to the truths of
the gospel.  She frequently entertained the persecuted servants of Christ in the day of their distress, and followed the gospel to the fields at her
own peril. And yet this individual, notwithstanding all her high and imposing pretensions, was
guilty of foul defection, and even went the length
of persecuting those with whom she formerly associated; so faithless is the human heart, and so
deceitful sometimes are the fairest appearances,
and the most promising  professions.  Walker
mentions this woman's abandonment of her prin.
ciples, and says, that " she turned so far out of
the way, that she became a persecutor, and would
not suffer any to dwell on her lands that would
not hear the curates, and take the oath of abjuration."  The example of this woman, who lived
only a few  miles from  the residence of Lady
Greenhill, had no influence on her in causing her
to swerve from  her constancy.  We have need
of grace to enable us to cleave to the Lord with
full purpose of heart, for, without his upholding
arm, we would soon give way, and make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience.
These traditionary facts, relative to the lady of
Greenhill, have been communicated by Mrs. Wilson of Douglas, a great-grand-daughter to the lady,
and grand-daughter to the little girl who defeated
the dragoon so magnanimously, in the affair of
the charter-chest. The grandmother lived to the
great age of ninety-two, and Mrs. Wilson has herself attained the honourable age of eighty-one.
When she speaks of her persecuted ancestors, her
age seems to be forgotten, and she appears to be
carried back to the days of her youth, when with
intense interest she used to listen to the incidents
20




30             TRADITIONS OF
recited by her grandmother, who witnessed wha.
she so feelingly narrated.'The righteous shal
be had in everlasting remembrance.'
CHAPTER XVII.
James Gourlay, of Cambusnethan-John Mathison, of
Closeburn.
JAMES Gourlay belonged originally to the Carse
of Gowrie, from which place he removed to Cambusnethan, and occupied the farm of Overtown,
situated on the southern boundary of that parish.
Nothing farther is known of him till the battle of
Bothwell-bridge, at which he was present, and
rendered to the covenanting party what assistance
was in his power. On the disastrous issue of that
conflict, Gourlay with the rest sought safety in
flight. He directed his steps towards a wood in
the neighbourhood, in which he hoped to find concealment.  As he ran to the thicket he found in
his way many of the bodies of his associates who
had fallen in battle, and over which he stepped
with caution as he scoured the slippery field that
was dyed with the blood of many of the best and
bravest of Scotland's sons. In his flight he was
intercepted by a lofty wall that crossed his path,
and over which it was his intention to spring.
This, however, he found to be impracticable; and
as his enemies were  in eager pursuit, death
or capture seemed inevitable. In the urgency
of the moment, however, and when time for de.
liberation there was none, he pulled from his




THE COVENANTERS.              231
pocket a large clasp-knife, the blade of which he
thrust into a chink of the wall, and then placing
his foot on the projecting haft, he reached the coping, and lighted without injury on the other side.
When he was in the act of passing over the wall,
and was for a moment resting on its summit, the
bullets, it is said, from the muskets of his pursuers rattled against the stones, and went whizzing
past his ears. In an instant, however, he was out
of danger, and was concealed among the thickets
of the wood.
In the history of an ancient battle, which was
fought in a forest, it is recorded that "' the wood
devoured more people that day than the sword
devoured;" but on this day the woods afforded a
shelter to many from the fierce fury and vengeful
sword of their enemies.  James Gourlay, however, halted not till he reached the banks of the
Clyde, and observing a deep and smooth flowing
part of the majestic river, which was over-shadowed by the pliant branches of the trees and shrubs
that grew so thickly on its margin, the thought
occurred to him, that the best mode of concealment would be to plunge into the stream, and
there to stand to the neck in the water under the
mantling of the bushes. Accordingly he waded
into the pool, and sought an asylum in the deep
waters, where he continued till the darkness of
the night afforded an opportunity of escape.
It is not said in what place he found refuge for
the night; but if he ventured home he could not
long remain in obscurity, for parties of dragoons,
as history informs us, were scouring that part of
the country in search of the Bothwell fugitives on
the day after the battle, when Arthur Inglis of
Nethertown, his neighbour, fell the victim of their




232             TRADITIONS OF
wanton and reckless cruelty.  He escaped, however, on the present occasion, with his life; but
the affair of Bothwell left him a memento, for his
station, during so many hours, in the cold river
after the heat of battle, induced a pulmonary affection, which, though it did not shorten his days,
afflicted him through life.
There is, in the immediate vicinity of Overtown,
a romantic ravine, of nearly two miles in length.
This ravine, called the Garrion-gill, is deep and
bosky, with a sweet rivulet flowing along its rocky
bed in the bottom. It forms the southern limit
of Cambusnethan, bounding on the parish of Carluke. It is generally believed that this was a
retreat of the worthies of Clydesdale during the
times of persecution. There is towards the middle of the dell, a precipitous and towering projection, with an ancient ruin on the summit. It
bears the name of Castlehill, and was evidently a,
place of security in feudal times. On both sides
of this glen are huge masses of rock, that have obviously undergone the action of fire. The burnt
appearance of the rocks is, in the popular opinion,
the effect of some powerful conflagration from the
kindling of the brushwood, and of the protruding
seams of coal, for the purpose of scorching the
covenanters from their hiding-places in the dark
sides of the ravine. Geologists, however, might
probably find another cause for these appearances;
but, be it as it may, it is certain that James Gour.
lay, and others, often hid themselves in this place,
in the gloomy hollows of the rocks, that were
thickly shaded with the leafy branches of the
mantling trees.
The house of James Gourlay was at different
times beset with his enemies. On one occasion




THE COVENANTERS.             233
they made an assault at midnight, and, thundering
at the door, they demanded instant admission.
Gourlay sprang from his bed, and having hastily
donned his garments, answered his assailants from
within, that being fully in their power, he would
instantly open the door. Having committed him.
self to the care of the God in whom he trusted,
and summoning all his courage according to the
emergency, he quietly unbolted the door on the
back part of the dwelling.  He was aware that
every door and window  was guarded by the
troopers, but he was determined to make one bold
effort for his life.  Accordingly, having opened
the door with as little noise as possible, he darted
in the darkness through the midst of the guards,
overthrowing one and pushing aside another, till
he found his way to the edge of the ravine, adown
which he glided in safety, and escaped their hands.
On another occasion he was seized by the troopers, and conveyed as their prisoner toward Hamilton.  When the party had forded the Clyde,
which in those days had no bridge at the place,
they halted at a house by the wayside, and hav.
ing locked up their horses and their prisoner in
the same place, they went either to regale themselves in a small ale-house, or in pursuit of some
other person.  During their absence, which was
rather long continued, it occurred to Gourlay that
now was the time to attempt his escape.  With
this idea he mounted one of the horses, and having
placed his feet on the animal's back, he reached
the joists above, and, with all the expedition possible, he tore an opening in the thatch, through
which he made his way to the roof, from which
he descended unnoticed, and hasted to the river,
20 -*




234            TRADITIONS OF
which he forded, and hid himself among the
bushes, and thus eluded the grasp of his foes.
From the defeat of Bothwell till the Revolution,
a period of about nine years, James Gourlay sustained many hardships and was exposed to much
danger.  He had a place in the Garrion-gill, at a
short distance from  his own house, to which he
retired in more hazardous times. His wife, Mary
Weir, a virtuous woman, and a crown to her husband, prepared a thick woollen covering for him,
when, by day or night, he had occasion to " lodge
solitary in the woods."  It is said, that this good
woman, in the absence of her husband, occasionally laboured in the field for the support of her
household, with a sucking infant bound in a plaid
on her back.
The days of persecution, however, ceased at
length, and James Gourlay was permitted to return to his house in peace.  There lived in Garrion-hough, a person, who, in order to save himself, had taken the test, and who, for his officiousness in informing against the friends of the covenant had acquired the nickname of Beadle. This
individual, a low, sneaking, and time-serving character, came to Gourlay when times were changed,
and professed a great deal of kindness.  He held
out his hand in token of friendship, but honest
James Gourlay thrust it away with indignation,
and, seizing him by the collar, pushed him out of
the apartment where they had happened to meet;
after which occurrence, he was no more troubled
with the hollow pretensions of friendship from so
worthless a man.
James Gourlay lived many years after the persecution, and, having approached the age of
threescore and ten, he was brought to his grave




THE COVENANTERS.             235
in peace, and his ashes, with those of his honoured spouse, repose in the old church-yard of
Cambusnethan.  The hallowed spot is marked by
an antiquated grave-stone, the inscription on which
is partially obliterated; it retains the names of
the deceased, and the date 1714.
The descendants of this worthy man are numerous in the neighbourhood of Cambusnethan,
especially two families of Gourlay and Gibb.
The preceding account of James Gourlay was
communicated by his great-grandson, a member
of the Secession congregation in Cambusnethan,
who in his youth resided with his grandfather
William Gourlay, eldest son of James Gourlay,
the covenanter.  He is now on the borders of
fourscore years, but he remembers with the freshness of youthful impression the events and inci.
dents narrated to him by his ancestor.
James Gourlay is mentioned by Wodrow.  " 1
find," says the historian, "March 14th, James
Forrest, younger, John Collin, James Gourlay, &c.
were before the committee for public affairs; and,
as they say in their joint testimony before me, the
chancellor, after a long speech aggravating their
rebellious principles, reset, &c. declared to them
that they were banished to West Flanders, never
to return on pain of death."
That James Gourlay, here mentioned, is the
same with the subject of the foregoing sketch, is
more than probable, when we consider that his
name is coupled with that of James Forrest, who
belonged to Cumbusnethan; for we find, in another
part of the historian, the following statement:
" James Forrest, in Oldyards, in the parish of
Cumbusnethan, and his son, with his nephew
Robert Gourlay, were seized by a party of so"




236             TRADITIONS OF
diers. After sometime imprisonment, they were
banished to West Flanders."  Robert Gourlay
was, in all likelihood, a relation of James Gourlay,
unless we suppose that Robert has been written
by mistake for James; but this supposition is not
likely, as tradition says nothing about the banishment of James,-an  incident which would not
readily have been forgotten.
As a sequel to this brief account of James Gour.
lay, we may here give the story of John Mathison.
John Mathison rented the farm of Rosehill in
Closeburn, in Nithsdale: but his adherence to the
cause of the covenant exposed him to many hardships and much suffering in woods and caves, to
which he was obliged to resort for safety. He is
expressly mentioned by Wodrow in connection
with other three covenanting brethren, who in
1684 were sentenced to be transported to the
plantations.  He is probably the same person
mentioned by Patrick Walker, under the title of
Captain John Mathison, the frequent companion
of the venerable Peden in his wanderings in Niths.
dale.
Rosehill in Closeburn was a farm on the estate
of Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick, a gentleman who manifested no small degree of sympathy with the oppressed peasantry of Scotland. In the farm of
Baraby, in the neighbourhood, lived an individual
who unblushingly followed the occupation of an
informer: and this person having learned that John
Mathison, and a few of his companions, were concealed in a cave on the farm of Kirkpatrick, in the
same parish, called on Sir Thomas, and requested
him to send a messenger to the commander of a
company of dragoons who were at this time locat.
ed at the house of Ballagan in Marburn.  Sir




THE COVENANTERS.            237
Thomas despised both the character and the occupation of the man who addressed him, refused
to comply with his request, and desired him to become his own messenger and to execute his own
behests.  The informer, seeing it needless to persist, set out with all expedition to Ballagan to fetch
the soldiers necessary to assist him in apprehending the wanderers.
Sir Thomas, on perceiving that the traitor had
executed his purpose, and brought the dragoons
from the distance of several miles, instantly des.
patched a servant to give warning to the persons
concealed in the cave. This act of kindness, however, was too tardy to render any effective assistance to those in concealment; for the dragoons
came in sight of the cave just as the covenanters
were in the act of making their escape. As the
troopers were now very near, and as the ground
over which the men were attempting to flee was
marshy, they made but little speed.  When the
informer saw that they were entangled in the boggy field, he advised the dragoons to dismount and
pursue on foot, while he held the horses. They
did so, and soon caught the fugitives, who perceived that it was needless to flee as they were now
fully within the musket shot of their enemies.
They were taken to Edinburgh, where they
received the sentence of banishment, and were
forthwith transported to New  Jersey.  When
they reached their place of destination  they
were committed to the oversight of a hard taskmaster, who treated them with great inhumanity,
so that the ill usage to which they were subjected
caused the death of some of them.  From  this
place, however, they were removed, and put to the
service of another master, whose wife showed




238             TRADITIONS OF
them  no small sympathy.  This woman was a
heathen, and for the kindness she manifested to the
sufferers they laboured to impart to her the know
ledge of the gospel. For this purpose they embraced every opportunity, and improved every
incident that befell, one of which tradition has
retained. It was the custom of the exiles to con.
vene every Lord's day for prayer and fellowship,
and their meeting-place was for the most part in
the woods.  It happened one Sabbath during a
great thunder storm, that the lightning fell on a
neighbouring building and destroyed it. When the
few worshippers came home from their place in the
woods, they found their mistress in considerable
concern respecting the occurrence. Mathison endeavoured to impress her mind with the fear of God,'and showed that the same accident might have befallen her, and more especially, as she had been
busily employed about her worldly affairs on the
day of hallowed rest.  The exhortation to which
the incident gave rise was not lost on the poor
woman, for she expressed her determination to
abstain henceforth from all secular labour on that
sacred day; and there is every reason to believe that her mind eventually became savingly in.
fluenced by the truth of God.
When the news of their release arrived, Mathi.
son and his friends met to thank their mistress for
the kindness she had shown them in the land of
their banishment. They prayed with her, and besought that every blessing, temporal and spiritual,
might be bestowed on her, and that all the kindness they had received from her might be amply
rewarded.  On this occasion she appeared to be
suitably affected, and expressed herself in a Chris.
tian manner. She said that the reward she looked




THE COVENANTERS.              239
for was the blessing of that God and Saviour, the
knowledge of whom they had taught her. It was
a consolation to them to think, that their afflictions in banishment were compensated by the
bringing of one soul to that Saviour, in whose
cause they suffered the loss of all things.
When John Mathison came home from his banishment, he was accompanied by one Thomas
Smith, belonging to the village of Penpont, who
had been apprehended with him  by the soldiers
at the time they fled from the cave.
The circumstances connected with his return to
his family are somewhat interesting.  It was in
the time of harvest, when Mathison, after several
years' exile, visited once more his beloved home.
The peaceful fields were waving with their yellow
produce, and the merry bands of reapers were
busy gathering in the golden stores of autumn.
No strolling parties of dragoons were interrupting
the labours of the husbandman, nor scattering the
helpless peasantry over the face of the country;
the wayfaring man was no longer intercepted on
his journey, nor teazed with ensnaring questions
on the part of an insolent soldiery. All was peace,
for the arm of the oppressor was broken, and the
blood-stained sword of persecution was returned to
its scabbard.  Men, conscious of liberty, seemed
to tread the earth with a firmer step, and to breathe
a freer air.  John Mathison drew near his dwelling with a throbbing heart, not knowing what
might have befallen his family in his absence.
When he entered the house he found his beloved
wife busily preparing dinner for the reapers in the
field. He did not at first make himself known,
being desirous that his wife should herself make
the discovery. She did not, however, recognise




240             TRADITIONS OF
him; for the climate, and the hardships to which
he had been subjected, had made a considerable
alteration on his countenance. The mistress of
Rosehill imagined that he was a wayfaring man,
who had turned aside to rest for a moment under
her roof, and she proceeded to exercise that hospitality for which the peasantry of Scotland have
been so much distinguished.  A  table was instantly set before him, on which were placed refreshments suitable to a person in his situation;
and this probably she did the more promptly, as
she might be considering at the moment how her
poor husband was faring in a foreign land. Having discharged this duty, she proceeded to carry
to the harvest-field a portion for the reapers; and
when she rose to depart, the stranger rose too, and
followed her. His heart was full; he had seen
his wife in life and in good health, and he now felt
a pressing solicitude to see his children, and to
know how it fared with them.  She observed him
tracing her steps at a respectful distance, and was
somewhat offended at the pertinacity of the stranger, remarking that she believed he wanted a second dinner, not appearing to be satisfied with
what he had received in the house. This drew
the notice of the reapers to the intruder, and every
one stared at the man who had thus unceremo,
niously presented himself on the rigg. One of
his sons, a young man, on whose memory the lineaments of his father's visage were deeply imprint.
ed, stared with surprise, and hastily whispered to
his mother, " If my father be alive, this is certainly
he."  She turned round, and, gazing wistfully for
a moment in the stranger's face, exclaimed, " My
husband!" and ran to his embrace. The delight.
ful recognition of the long-lost husband and father




THE COVENANTERS.             241
put an end, for the time being, to the labours of
the field, and the whole party returned with gratulations and gladness to the house.  The remainder of the day was spent in listening to the tale
of John Mathison, and in rendering grateful acknowledgments to the Preserver of his life.
John Mathison lived several years after his return from banishment, and maintained to his death
the same honoured character of a devoted Chris.
tian. His ashes lie in the church-yard of Closeburn.  A stone was erected by his children, on
which were engraven the names of the persons
who were banished with him, and also the name
of the individual at whose instance they were apprehended.  This monument, however, was one
night demolished by the informer, whose infamy
he considered it was designed to perpetuate, in
connection with the honourable mention of the
worthies.  The traitor, however, was obliged to
replace the stone by another, but he omitted the
original inscription.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Newton-Stewart-Escape ftom the Conventicle-Mr. Kenwick-Incident at the Cottage in the Ravine.
THERE are comparatively few of the more prominent characters who suffered in the persecuting
times, whose history has excited greater sympathy
in the breasts of posterity, than that of the youthful and gentle Renwick.  His character during
21




242             TRADITIONS OF
his public life was greatly maligned, not only by
his persecutors, who daily thirsted for his blood
but also by a numerous party among those who
professed to abet the common cause he so strenuously laboured to support. It was his lot to fall
on evil times, and evil tongues and reproach had
well nigh broken his heart.  His labours in maintaining the standard of Zion, and, as Mr. Peden
expresses it, " in holding up his fainting mother's
head" in the day when few of her sons durst venture openly to render her assistance, were almost
incredible. He was incessant in his preaching on
the wild morasses or desert mountains, and in remote and lowly cottages, where he was attended
sometimes by few, and at other times by great
multitudes. And sweet and solemn were the
seasons of divine refreshment, which, like a dew
from the Lord, came upon the hearts of those who
had met by the fountains of salvation that were
opened in the wilderness.
His life, written by Alexander Shiels, is excellent, but then it is chiefly a defence of his public
character. The great desideratum, which we nowa-days would like to see supplied, is a minute account of his private history, of his wanderings,
his escapes, the effects of his ministry, and the
providential incidents which befell him. This,
however, at this distance of time, it is impossible
to supply. In the days of his biographer there
existed ample materials for such a history, which
to posterity would now be invaluable. There is
scarcely an anecdote given by the writer of his
life, of the description we would now like to see,
though there are general statements made which
show that his history was an eventful one, and




THE COVENANTERS.             243
fraught with unrecorded incidents of a very stirring nature.
In prosecuting his Master's work with that ardour and devotedness with which he was so much
distinguished, the compiler of his brief, but chequered life, tells us, that he found no rest " but in
the remotest recesses in the wilderness, exposed to
the cold blasts of winter storms, in the open fields,
or in some shepherd's summer-shiel in the mountain, used in summer, but lying waste in winter,
which yet were the best chambers he could find,
where he made some fire of sticks or heath, and
got meat with great difficulty out of places at a
great distance, mostly from  children, who durst
not let their parents know of it. Here he, and
they that were with him, did sometimes remain
several days and nights not daring to look out,
both for hazard of being seen, and for the boisterousness of the storm." In another place his biographer remarks, that he and his companions
"were made to lie many nights and days in
crowding  numbers in caves and holes under
ground, without room to sit or stand, without air,
without refreshment or hope of relief, save what
was had from  Heaven; the murdering pursuers
sometimes coming over and by the mouth of the
hole, while they were at their duty praying or
praising, undiscovered; and when forced from
thence, he hath often been compelled, wet and cold,
hungry and weary, in great hazard, to run barefooted many miles together for another subterraneous shelter."
The private life of such a man as Mr. Renwick
must have been full of interest, and would there
fore be highly instructive could it now be re
covered.




244             TRADITIONS OF
The following traditional incident is said to
have befallen, when he was on one occasion
preaching in the wilder parts of Galloway. It was
known that a conventicle was to be held by him
among the desert mountains, in a place the name
of which is not given; and to this place the leader
of a party of dragoons repaired with his men, for
the purpose of surprising the meeting, and of seizing the preacher. Mr. Renwick, and his friends,
by certain precautionary measures, were made
aware of their danger, and fled. In the eager
pursuit, the commander of the troopers shot far
ahead of his party, in the hope of capturing by his
single arm the helpless minister, on whose head
a price had been set.  Mr. Renwick, however,
succeeded in eluding the pursuit, in wending his
way through the broken mosses and bosky glens,
and came in the dusk of the evening to Newton
Stewart, and found lodgings in an inn, in which
on former occasions he had found a resting-place.
After a tedious and fruitless chase through moor
and wild, the leader of the troopers arrived at the
same place, and sought a retreat for the night in
the same inn.  It appears to have been in the
winter season when this occurrence took place;
for the commander of the party, feeling the dark
and lonely hours of the evening hanging heavy on
his hand, called the landlord, and asked if he could
introduce to him any intelligent acquaintance of
his with whom he might spend an hour agreeably
in his apartment. The landlord retired, and comn
municated the request to Mr. Renwick; and whatever might have been his reasons for the part
which on this occasion he acted, Mr. Renwick, it
is asserted, agreed to spend the evening in the
company of the trooper.  His habiliments would,




THE COVENANTERS,            245
no doubt, be of a description that would induce no
suspicion of his character as a nonconformist minister; for in those days of peril and necessity
there would be little distinction between the plain
peasant and the preacher, in regard to clothing.
It is highly probable that the soldier was a man
of no great discernment, and hence Mr. Renwick
succeeded in managing the interview  without
being discovered by the person in whose presence
he was, and without his being suspected by others
who might happen to frequent the inn. The evening passed agreeably and without incident, and
they parted with many expressions of high satis.
faction and good will on the part of the officer,
who retired to sleep with the intention of resuming
his search in the morning.
When all was quiet in the inn, however, and
when sleep had closed the eyes of its inmates, Mr.
Renwick took leave of the landlord, and withdrew
in the darkness and stillness of the night to the
upland solitudes, in which to seek a cave, in whose
cold and damp retreat he might hide himself from
the vigilance of his pursuers.
When the morning came, and the soldiers were
preparing to march, the commander asked for the
intelligent stranger who had afforded him so much
gratification on the preceding evening. The landlord said that he had left the house long before
the dawn, and was now far off among the hills to
seek a hiding-place. " A hiding-place!" exclaim.
ed the leader.,' Yes, a hiding-place," replied the
innkeeper, c" this gentle youth, and inoffensive as
you have witnessed him to be, is no other than the
identical James Renwick, after whom you have
been pursuing."  " James Renwick! impossible I
a man so harmless, so discreet, and so well-in21 *




246            TRADITIONS OF
formed; if he is James Renwick, I for one at least
will pursue his track no longer."
The officer accordingly marched away with his
dragoons, and searched the wilderness no further
for one of whom he had now formed so favourable
an opinion. It was, probably, with the full concurrence of Mr. Renwick that the master of the
inn divulged the secret when danger was no longer
to be apprehended, and done in all likelihood
with a view to show the troopers that the covenanters were not the men that their enemies
affirmed they were,-wild and fanatical, and ferocious; and by this means, if possible, to leave a
good impression on the minds of those who, without cause, were seeking their destruction.
The following tradition is akin to this, if not
another version of the same anecdote. The report having spread of a meeting to be held somewhere in the deserts, a party of troopers was sent
to disperse the conventiclers. On the night prior
to the day of the meeting, the soldiers took up
their lodgings in a house not far from the appointed place. It happened that the minister, who was
to officiate, was in the house at the time when the
dragoons arrived.  The commander of the party
not being aware of the circumstance, asked the
master of the house if there was any person within with whom he might beguile the evening in
conversation. He replied that perhaps he might
be able to find an individual of the description he
wished, and that at least he would do his endeavour to entertain him in the best way he could.
The circumstance having been made known to the
preacher, he, on reflection, agreed to become the
companion of the dragoon for the evening, and
having disguised himself in such a way as to pre



TIE COVENANTERS.            247
elude all likelihood of a discovery, was ushered
into the apartment. The soldier was highly entertained with the conversation of his new associate, and mentioned that his design in coming to
the place was, if possible, to apprehend the preacher who was to hold the conventicle on the morrow.
--  I think," said the stranger, giving a significant nod with his head, " I can possibly help you
in that pinch."  "Indeed!" replied the officer,
" that will be good service."  ^ Keep yourself
easy," answered the minister, " and do not whisper the matter to any one, and I here plight my
honest word, that I will put his hands in yours b)
to-morrow at such an hour."
The morrow came, but the stranger, with whom
the officer wished again to confer on the chiet
point of the preceding evening's discourse, was
nowhere to be found.  Not knowing how  the
thing might turn out, the commander with his troop.
ers marched toward the place of the conventicle.
When they came near the assembly, the preacher
was proceeding with his discourse; and as the
soldiers advanced on the outskirts of the congregation, he commanded the party to stand still and
hear the word of the Lord.  His manner struck
the dragoons with awe, and they halted.  In a
brief space the leader recognised his evening companion, and remembered his promise; and being
astounded at the peculiarity of the circumstances,
waited the event. During the progress of the discourse, the great and solemn truths of the gospel
made a deep and evident impression on the mind
of the officer, and he stood listening with absorbing interest till the services were closed, and then
the preacher descended from his station, and went
straight to the place where the dragoons stood




248             TRADITIONS OF
and, according to his promise, put his hand in the
hand of their commander. This he did, it is said,
with perfect impunity; for the soldier, whose mind
was now changed, refused to seize his person, and
having drawn off his party, allowed the congreation to withdraw in peace.
This anecdote may appear to some to be destit te of probability, considering the hazard of the
attempt on the part of the minister, and the folly
of persisting in holding the conventicle when
the troopers were so near. But there is every
likelihood that the dragoons were on this occasion
very few in number, perhaps not exceeding half a
dozen; and the preacher, whoever he was, being
aware that the numbers who would meet with the
conventicle, fully prepared to defend both themselves and him, might be six times that number,
saw but little risk in pursuing the method he chose
to adopt. Tradition says that the officer, whose
name has not been preserved, renounced his former connection, and cast in his lot with the suffering people of God, having undergone a decided
change by grace.
The following anecdote of Mr. Renwick, will be
read perhaps with some degree of interest,  In his
wanderings in the wilder parts of Galloway, to
elude the vigilance of his enemies, he came to
Balmaclellan, and agreed with some of the serious
people there to hold a conventicle in a solitary
place among the mountains.  The news of the
projected meeting was circulated with all possible
secrecy, and on the day appointed a great assem.
bly convened from all parts of the surrounding
district. The morning was lowering, and heavy
showers were falling on the distant heights, swell.
ing the mountain streamlets, as they descended




THE COVENANTERS.             249
with impetuosity into the valleys. Notwithstanding the caution, however, with which the intelligence had been communicated, the enemy received
information, and came upon the congregation just
as they were going to commence worship. On the
approach of the troopers the people fled in all directions, and Mr. Renwick, accompanied by John
M'Millan and David Ferguson, fled towards the
winding Ken. It was the design of Mr. Renwick
to escape to the house of a friend, in the parish of
Penningham, and there to conceal himself for a
season. The place where they attempted to ford
the stream was at a considerable distance above
the village of Dalry. The river was greatly swollen by the heavy rains that had fallen among the
hills during the morning; and before they entered
into its turbid waters, they agreed to engage in
prayer among the thick bushes that grew on its
margin.  When they rose from their knees, and
were about to step into the dark rolling tide, they
observed, to their amazement, a party of dragoons
landing on the opposite bank. They had reached
the place in pursuit during the time the three men
were at prayer, and without noticing them, or hearing their voice, they rushed into the ford in haste
to cross before the waters became deeper. This
occurrence seemed to the party to be a providen.
tial interference in their favour, for it was at the
moment they were employed in devotion that their
enemies arrived and missed them; and there is
every likelihood, had they not lingered for a space
to implore the Divine protection, that they would
have been toiling in the midst of the stream at the
very time the horsemen reached the place. John
AM'Millan, from whose lips this tradition has been
transmitted to posterity, used to say that he was




250             TRADITIONS OF
never so much impressed, either before or after,
with anything he ever heard, as by the remarks
made by Mr. Renwick on this occasion, and that,
moreover, they were the means of directing his
attention more particularly to providential occurrences during the after period of his life.
As his two friends were to accompany Mr. Renwick no farther than the ford, they resolved not to
leave him till they should see him in safety on
the other side. As the current was powerful,
they resorted to the following means to assist him
in crossing:-they provided themselves with the
long branches of the mountain ash, which were
grasped by the three at equal distances, so that if
one should be carried off his feet by the strength
of the current, the others, standing firm, should
accomplish his rescue. Mr. Renwick entered the
stream first, and the three proceeded in a line as
steadily as they could, till he reached the bank in
safety; the other two then returned to the place
they left. No sooner, however, had they stepped
from the channel of the river, than the flood descended with great violence, covering the banks
on both sides, and sweeping every obstacle before
it. Such an occurrence is not unfrequent in the
upland districts, where the thunder clouds discharge themselves wilh great impetuosity among
the hills.
Mr. Renwick, now alone on the south side of
the stream, began to seek a place of shelter in
which to pass the night, which was now fast approaching.  He entered the mouth of a narrow
glen, along which he proceeded in quest of a resting-place, and having found a hollow under a
projecting rock, he crept into it and fell fast asleep.
After a short repose he awoke, and, ruminating on




THE COVENANTERS.             251
his uncomfortable couch, he heard distinctly the
sound of singing at no great distance. The idea
naturally occurred to him, that there might be
other fugitives in the ravine besides himself, who,
seeking refuge from their foes, were engaged in
the midnight hour, like Paul and Silas, in singing
praises to God in their hiding-place. He rose to
search them out, and, following the sound through
the thickets of the underwood, he discovered a light
proceeding from a hut at a short distance before
him. He advanced with cautious step, and in the
full expectation of finding a company of friends,
with whom he should spend the remaining hours
of the night in security and comfort. The night
was very dark, and his footing along the narrow
pass precarious, at the bottom of which the foaming streamlet, which leapt from linn to linn as it
dashed over its rugged bed, was the only object
which was visible, and by which he attempted
to guide his way. At length he reached the
house, and stood still to listen, but, to his disappointment, the sounds which he heard were those
of mirth and revelry. It was a shepherd's cot,
and a party had convened within for the purpose
of jollity and drinking.
Mr. Renwick hesitated for a moment whether
to seek admission, or to retreat to his hidingplace; but being drenched in rain, and shivering with cold, he resolved to attempt an entrance.
He knocked at the door, which was immediately
opened, and he was forthwith conducted into the
midst of the apartment.  The master of the cottage, whose name was James M'Culloch, a rude
blustering person, and no friend to the covenanters, received the stranger graciously on this hilarious evening. He advanced him to a seat near




252             TRADITIONS OF
to a rousing fire of peats, and ordered a repast to
be immediately set before him. The demeanour
of Mr. Renwick formed a complete contrast to
that of the party among whom he was now placed,
and seemed to excite some suspicion on the part
of M'Culloch, who now and then muttered something about rebels and conventicles, and so forth.
M'Culloch's wife, however, was a woman of a
different description; she was humane, seriously
disposed, and a friend to the suffei rs.  She had
some guess of the party to whom the stranger
belonged, and, dreading a disclosure in the progress of the evening, she hurried Mr. Renwick
to bed in an adjoining apartment.
As she conducted him  to his dormitory, she
requested him to be on his guard before her husband, who had no warm  side to the persecuted
people, informing him at the same time, that he
was in perfect safety under her roof during the
night. She made a comfortable fire in the little
chamber, before which she suspended his dripping
clothes, that they might be ready for him in the
morning.  Mr. Renwick having committed himself to the guardianship of him who watches over
all, crept under the soft and warm bed-clothes,
and slept soundly till the early morning. Awaking about the break of day, and groping about the
obscure apartment for his clothes, he could not find
them.  Uneasy suspicions began to arise in his
mind, and he dreaded some mishap, when the mistress of the cottage entered, and informed him that
his garments having been so very wet, she had not
succeeded in getting them sufficiently dried; but
that she had brought part of her husband's apparel,
which she requested him to put on for a few hours.
Mr. Renwick complied, and the circumstance was




THE COVENANTERS.              253
the means of saving his life.  M'Culloch had gone
out before Mr. Renwick rose, to drive his sheep
from the low grounds, which were flooded with the
rain that had descended so copiously during the
night. After the devotions of the morning, in
which M'Culloch's wife cordially joined, he walk.
ed out to the fields to breathe the refreshing air of
the morning. Previously to his leaving the house
he had thrown over his shoulders a shepherd's
plaid, which action being observed by one of the
dogs that lay near the fire, the sagacious animal
rose and followed him. Mr. Renwick ascended a
gentle eminence near the dwelling, and, as he stood
on its summit, his attention was directed by the
barking of the dog, to a company of dragoons that
were newly come in sight, and were very near.
Mr. Renwick, forgetting that he was now attired
in a shepherd's dress, expected to be instantly
seized. The troopers rode up to him, and asked
if he was the master of the cottage; he replied
he was not, and informed them where he was to
be found. After some farther conversation about
rebels and fugitives, they concluded that there
would be none on this side of the river, as the
stream had been so greatly swollen since the dis.
persion of the conventicle; and accordingly they
departed without further inquiry.
When the soldiers were gone, Mr. Renwick returned with all speed to the house; and having
put on his own clothes, and breakfasted, he set
out without delay for Penningham.  Thus Providence delivered, within a few hours, this helpless
man, twice from imminent danger by the simplest
means, and preserved him for further service in
the cause of Christ.
John M'Millan and David Ferguson, who re.




254             TRADITIONS OF
turned to the north bank of the Ken, after they
parted with Mr. Renwick, were hastening along
the margin of the river, when they were met by a
company of horsemen.  They turned to flee;
David Ferguson concealed himself under a brow
by the water's edge, and John M'Millan retreated
to a thicket at a short distance from the place.
The soldiers observing the flight of M'Millan, pursued him, but he escaped. Ferguson, however,
was never more heard of; it is supposed that he
was swept away by the strength of the stream,
and found a watery grave, and thus he died a
martyr, though not by the immediate hand of his
persecutors.
CHAPTER XIX.
Andrew Hamilton, of Drumclog-George Henry-John
Henry-James Lamie-Graham, of Galston.
ANDREW  Hamilton, of Drumclog, was a noted
covenanter, and took a prominent part in the memorable transactions that preceded the Revolution. The descendants of this worthy man retain
the following traditions respecting him.
After the disastrous conflict at Bothwell Bridge,
the severities of the persecution were greatly
heightened.  The infamous Claverhouse, with his
troopers, scoured the country in all directions,
for the purpose of apprehending the insurgents,
and of bereaving them of their life. This cruel



THE COVENANTERS.                255
hearted cavalier rioted in the murder of the helpless people of God, who were crushed to the dust
under the  mad despotism  of vindictive  rulers.
He was their legalized slaughter-man, the ready
executor of their will, and he delighted in acts
of savageness from which common humanity recoils.
"Then, worthy of his master, came,
The despot's champion, bloody Graham;
He stained for aye a warrior's sword,
And led a fierce though fawning horde.
The human bloodhound of the earth,
To hunt the peasant from his hearth.
Tyiants! could not misfortune teach
That man has rights beyond your reach?
Thought ye the torture and the stake
Could that intrepid spirit break,
Which even in woman's breast withstood
The terrors of the fire and flood?"
The troopers were frequently sent out to apprehend the laird of Drumclog, where they might perchance find him.  On one occasion the soldiers,
who had been sent in quest of him, were so near
the house before he was aware of their approach,
that he found it impossible to flee from the place
without being discovered. In his perplexity he
ran into the adjoining cowhouse, and crept underneath a heap of straw, which lay in a corner.
This mode of concealment was frequently adopted
by the sufferers in similar circumstances, and in
many instances with unexpected success.  On the
arrival of the dragoons, two of them dismounted
to search the buildings, and the rest guarded the
various outlets.  One proceeded to the dwelling.
house, and the other to the office-houses, and commenced an unsparing search.  The trooper who
entered the place where Hamilton was concealed,
began to turn over the straw that lay on the floor,




256             TRADITIONS OF
and was gradually nearing the corner where the
object of his search nestled.  When Hamilton
heard the trooper tossing about the rustling straw,
he concluded that all was over, and every moment
expected when the soldier should stumble upon
him.  In this situation we may easily conceive
his fielings, and something of the intense mental
anxiety to which he must have been a prey.  His
ruthless enemies, with the instruments of death in
their hands, were within a few feet of him, and the
next thrust of the deadly sword among the loose
litter might pierce his heart. In a few minutes his
suspense was at an end, for the dragoon discovered
him buried beneath the straw. The worthy man,
now in the power of the foe, resigned himself to
the divine will, expecting either to be shot before
his own door, or to be carried away a prisoner.
But, to his astonishment, the dragoon, instead of
seizing him, or of giving the least intimation of
the discovery he had made, said to him in a kindiy whisper, " Lie still, hide yourself better under
the straw, I will not discover you." This unlook.
ed for incident was justly regarded by this good
man as a special interposition of Providence in his
behalf, at the very instant when he was entirely
in the hands of his enemies.  He afterwards often
expressed to the family the grateful sense which
he entertained of the goodness of God to him on
that emergency.  And it was perhaps in answer
to his prayer, made in his lowly hiding-place, that
the God who has the hearts of all men in his
hand, gave him favour in the presence of one who
had come with the avowed purpose of seeking his
life, and from whose grasp it was impossible to
escape.
When the generous dragoon was leaving the




THE COVENANTERS.             257
apartment, he met the other trooper, who had accomplished an unsuccessful search in the dwelling.
house, exactly in the door-way.  In order to prevent his entrance, and the consequences that nnght
ensue, he exclaimed, " The rebel has escaped us,
he must be somewhere in the immediate neighbourhood; haste, let no time be lost lest he get
beyond our reach."  On this the party instantly
rode off in the eager pursuit, and the laird remained unscathed. The conduct of the dragoon in this
case, furnishes an instance, among others, either
that there were friends occasionally to be met with
among the troopers, or, at least, men in whose
breasts the kindly sympathies of humanity were
not wholly extinguished.
But though the worthy laird of Drumclog was
preserved during the persecuting period, and got
his life for a prey, he was nevertheless despoiled
of much of his worldly property. The times of
persecution were not only times of murder, they
were also times of plunder. The robbing of men
of their lives, and the enriching of themselves with
their property, was a principal work of the lawless men who ruled in the councils of that dark
and bloody period. Claverhouse carried off all
the cattle that were on his farm, with the exception of a few sheep, which were grazing on the
moor of Hawburn.  The laird of Hawburn was
inimical to the covenanters, and did many things
in the way of lodging information against them,
for the purpose of ingratiating himself with the ruling party.  There are some men so despicably
mean that they will submit to any thing, however
debasing, for the purpose of promoting their own
interests at the expense of their neighbours. Such
men, however, generally overshoot themselves,
22 




258            TRADITIONS OF
and Providence sometimes rewards them with the
reverse of that on which they calculated.
Hawburn gave notice to the dragoons that Ha.
milton had a number of sheep on the moor, which
at any convenient time they might make their
booty. He had a flock of his own on the same
moor; and lest the troopers should be inclined to
be somewhat indiscriminate in their levy, he accompanied them to the place, and pointed out
those that belonged to his neighbour, and saved
his own. In this way did the laird of Hawburn
treat his virtuous acquaintance, who sought not
his hurt, but lived peaceably by him.
Some time after the persecution was ended, hon.
est Andrew Hamilton, meeting Hawburn incidentally, took the liberty, now when men could speak
with safety, to address him in the following style;
" It was a very unfriendly and unjust action on
your part, knowing, as you did, that the dragoons
had robbed me of all my cattle, to inform them of
the few sheep which were left me on the moor.
You thought to promote your own interests by taking part with the enemies of religion and liberty,
against those who are the friends of both; and no
doubt, in consequence of this, you are in better
worldly circumstances than I am. You have lost
nothing, I have lost all my property except the
land. Yet it is not unlikely, reasoning from the
principles of the Divine government, though I am
no prophet who say so, that the means you have
taken to preserve your property may, in the end,
prove your destruction.  The Drumclog may remain in my family, while the Hawburn may go
from yours."
What impression these statements made at the
time is not said, but the fact has turned out, that




TIE COVENANTERS.             259
the Drumclog is still in the family of Hamilton,
while the Hawburn has long since passed to other
hands. It is also worthy of notice, that the present
proprietor of Drumclog has lately purchased the
moor from which his ancestor's sheep were, at the
instigation of Hawburn, driven away by Claverhouse, so that it now forms a portion of the lands
of Drumclog.  This certainly shows something
like a divine retribution even in the present life;
and though it may be dangerous for short-sighted
and partial judging creatures like us to draw in
every case our own conclusions from providential
incidents, lest we do so with an incautious and
erring conjecture, yet there are some events from
which the deduction is so plain, that we cannot
avoid the conclusion, " behold the righteous shall
be recompensed in the earth, much more the wicked and the sinner."
In addition to the preceding, the following anecdotes are worthy of notice.
George Henry, and his wife Agnes Campbell,
lived in Markland, in the parish of Sorn, not far
from the resting-place of the worthies who fell at
Airds-moss.  This worthy couple were covenanters, and befiiended the sufferers who occasionally resorted to their dwelling for shelter. On one
occasion, a company of wanderers, who happened
to arrive at Markland, were hospitably entertained
in an apartment called the " chamber," a place
attached to the dwelling-house. During the time
the party were convened in the chamber, a company of dragoons arrived unexpectedly before the
house. Agnes ran to meet them, requested them
to dismount, led them into the kitchen, and speedily engaged them in eating and drinking. When
they were busy regaling themselves in the kitchen




260             TRADITIONS OF
of Markland, George Henry, solicitous about the
safety of his friends in the chamber, conveyed thenm
unobserved from the place, and aided their escape
from the presence of their enemies.
Agnes Campbell had two brothers of the name
of Cook, who, with her husband, were engaged in
the skirmish at Airds-moss. During the time of
the conflict, Agnes was in great distress respecting the issue.  When she observed the victorious
enemy moving from the field, she hastened to the
scene to seek her relations, and to administer what
assistance she could to the wounded.  When she
approached the battle-field, the chief objects of her
solicitude were not to be found,-neither her hus.
band, nor her brothers were anywhere to be seen;
and whether they had secured their safety by
flight, or were captured by the foe, she was utterly
uncertain. In recounting the slain, however, she
found the body of Richard Cameron, of whom it
is said, that " he lived praying and preaching, and
died praying and fighting." She spread her cloak
over the bleeding corpse of the martyr, more honoured by her than his fellows who lay slaughtered
around him; and having surveyed with a heavy
heart the gory field, on which so many of the
worthies had fallen in their contendings for the
truth, she returned solitary to her home.  Her
husband, of whose fate she was entirely ignorant,
had fled into the heart of the dark moss, which
was impassable to the heavy horses of the dragoons, and hid himself till the enemy were out of
sight; and, when the danger was over, he returned
to his own house, and relieved by his presence the
anxiety of his wife.
The place where the skirmish was fought is a
green spot close by the edge of the moss. The




THE COVENANTERS.              261
covenanters had posted themselves as near the
moss as possible, that into it they might effect a
retreat in case of a discomfiture. The fatal scene
was on the east end of Airds-moss, and not far
from the farm-house of Boghead, from which some
of the covenanters, it is said, issued on the morning of the conflict. A tolerably handsome monument is now erected on the field, to perpetuate
the memory of the nine brave men who fell there
in the support of their country's liberties.  It is a
conspicuous object in the desolate moorland, not
far from the road between Cumnock and Muirkirk.
In that lonely wilderness repose the ashes of the
", martyr warriors," whose principles of religious
and civil freedom will yet prevail, and will ere
long arise in giant might, and crush the power of
the oppressor and the bigot.
Auchencloich, in the parish of Sorn, was the residence of John Henry, who, at an early period of
the persecution, allied himself to the covenanters.
He, in company with a neighbour of his, proceeded eastward to assist their brethren on occasion of
the rising at Pentland.  When they came within
sight of the place the battle was ended, and the
covenanters were fleeing before the enemy. On
seeing the confusion, they turned the heads of
their powerful steeds and endeavoured to escape.
When they found themselves hardly pressed by
their pursuers, they dismounted and sought a retreat in the more inaccessible places in the neighbourhood.  In their flight they were intercepted
by the steep brow of a deep moss hag, and were
caught by a trooper. This individual happened to
be a person who was formerly in the service of
John Henry, and on his recognising his old master,
instead of making him his prisoner, he assisted in




262             TRADITIONS OF
facilitating his escape. Providence in this instance rewarded the kindness he formerly showed
to the man, when he lived under his roof.
James Lambie, the covenanter, lived in a place
called Ladybrow, in the parish of Galston. He
was warmly attached to the cause of the persecuted. He was a good man, and was prepared to
make any sacrifice to promote what he deemed to
be the interests of truth and righteousness.  He
was present at the battle of Bothwell Bridge, the
issue of which was so disastrous to the covenanters.
He fell on the field, overpowered by the enemy,
who inflicted no less than nineteen wounds on his
head, and one stab in his breast. In this condition
he lay among the dead and dying, till the plundering soldiery stript him of all his clothing except
the shirt, which a Highlandman in passing tore
from his body, and left him naked and exposed.
In this distressful plight he lay a number of hours
in the battle-field, and in order to protect his body
the best way he could, he reached out his feeble
arm and drew to him a large broad hat belonging
to a dragoon who had fallen in the fight, and
placed it close to his naked person-a poor substitute for clothing to one in his situation.  The
favour of being permitted to convey the wounded
to a place of safety was requested, it is said, by
certain influential ladies; which being granted,
James Lambie, by good management, recovered
from his wounds, and was ultimately restored to
perfect soundness.  His descendants are to this
day known in the west; and the family of Lambie,
in Cumnock, in Ayrshire, have the honour to claim
him as their ancestor.
A worthy man of the u-ame of Graham, a farmer in the parish of Galston in Ayrshire, was often




THE COVENANTERS.            263
sought for by the troopers. He was regarded as
a disaffected person; and, on account of his nonconformity, his enemies determined to accomplish
his ruin. On one occasion his house was suddenly surrounded by a company of horsemen, who
had come to apprehend him.  He made his escape
by a window in the back part of the house, and
hid himself among the straw in the barn. The
dwelling-house having undergone a strict search,
the party then proceeded to the outhouses.  In the
barn they thrust their swords into the heaps of
straw that lay on the floor, and one of them having, in his search, discovered the hiding-place of
the fugitive, intimated the circumstance to him by
a gentle kick on the leg, which admonished him
to creep farther beneath the straw, and, to prevent
observation, he heaped it in greater quantities in
the corner where the risk of detection lay. In a
short time they left the barn, to join the others
who were standing without, to proceed in company to continue the search in another place.
Graham left his concealment, thinking the danger
was over; but having incautiously exposed himself
to view, he was noticed by some of the party, who
instantly returned to make him their prisoner.
He fled from the barn, to hide himself more securely elsewhere. To endeavour to escape from
the place was in vain, as he knew the horsemen
must soon overtake him, and there was no place
within the building which could now afford shelter.
In his perplexity he betook himself to a small thicket behind the house, in which grew a number of
trees. It now occurred to him, that his only remaining chance of escape was to ascend one of
the trees. Accordingly, having selected one of
the most umbrageous, he speedily climbed its trunk,




284            TRADITIONS OF
and having placed himself among the leafy branches, waited the event. The soldiers, on their return, searched the premises with greater eagerness
than before, every nook and corner was examined,
in the full hope of ultimate success. Being dis.
appointed, however, as to the result of their search
within, they issued into the thicket, and, like dogs
that have lost their scent, they ran backwards and
forwards in painful perplexity.  Graham, perched
aloft on the tree, observed their motions beneath,
and heard and saw enough to convince him of the
fate which awaited him, if he should be so unhappy
as to fall into their hands. He remained, however,
undiscovered; for though the soldiers looked down
among the bushes, they never once looked up into
the trees.  When they had satisfied themselves
that he was not there, though they could not account for his mysterious disappearance, they left
the place, and Graham came down from the tree.
At another time, when the troopers came in
quest of him, he fled before them to the edge of a
deep glen. He then with great precipitancy slid
down a steep scar to the bottom. The horsemen
rode round to enter the mouth of the ravine, with
a view to seize him as he issued from it; but having observed their intention, he ascended the scar,
and made his escape.




THE COVENANTERS,            265
CHAPTER XX.
Muirhead, of Monkton-Cottars of Carmacoup.
THE Rev. Mr. Muirhead, the subject of the following sketch, is said to have lived in Monkton,
in Ayrshire.  Robert Maxwell was minister of
Monkton at the Restoration, when he was ejected
for his nonconformity, and confined to his parish.
If Mr. Muirhead was minister of this place, as it is
said he was, it must have been at a period considerably later, and he must have been introduced
under the wing of the indulgence. This good man,
as tradition says, was deprived of his charge, be.
cause he harboured for a week in his house a pious
outlawed preacher. But though he was forbidden
by the law to preach, he kept conventicles in his
own house, which were frequented by the serious
people in the neighbourhood.  His practice, in this
respect, however, was peculiarly offensive to the
ruling party, who forthwith proceeded to apprehend him.  There was, in the vicinity of his residence, a secluded spot in the corner of a field, to
which he was in the habit of retiring for secret
devotion.  This place was encircled with tall
broom, and densely guarded by the prickly whins.
In the heart of these bushes he found a sanctuary
and a place of retreat, in which he spent many a
hallowed hour. It happened one evening, when a
party of soldiers came to his house, for the purpose of apprehending him, that he had retired to
23




206              TRADITIONS OF
his asylum among the bushes to conclude the day
with prayer, and continued longer in the exercise
than usual.  Little did the worthy man suspect
that, during the brief space of his retirement, his
enemies were actually within his house in quest of
him.  They had arrived almost at the moment he
disappeared  among the broom, and  continued
searching with the utmost eagerness till within
a few minutes of his return, when, having been
unsuccessful, they  left the place.  When M-.
Muirhead entered, he found all within in a state
of confusion, and was anxious to know the cause.
Of this he was not long ignorant, and was both
astonished and delighted to find that Providence
had shielded him in a manner so unforeseen.
It was now obvious to this worthy servant of
Christ, that his ruin was plotted by his enemies,
and that he must instantly provide for his safety.
His own house could afford him no security, as his
foes might invade it at any hour, either by day or
night, and therefore another place of refuge was
immediately sought for. It was considered that,
as his retreat among the bushes in the field was
known to none but to his household, it might be
adopted as a suitable hiding-place, to which he
might for a season resort.  Accordingly preparations were made with all due celerity and secrecy,
to render the place as comfortable as possibie.
Blankets were furnished in abundance, and spread
on the grassy floor, as a couch on which to repose
by night, and on which to sit by day, in the concealment of the bushes.  There was, however,
among the few friends who were attached to Mr.
Muirhead, and who regularly attended the meetings held for prayer and conference, one like Judas among the little family of the disciples, who




THE COVENANTERS.             267
was determined to betray the venerable man to
his enemies on the first opportunity.  Mr. Muir.
head continued to meet with the little conventicle
on every fitting occasion. On a certain day on
which the meeting was to take place, the saintly
man having crept from his hiding-place, was walking in a retired corner of the field, to avoid observation, when he was noticed by a man at some
distance. This individual was one of his warmest
fiiends, who had at the same time a near relation
in great affliction, and at the point of death.  He
accordingly walked up to Mr. Muirhead, and requested him to accompany him to the sick chamber of his kinsman.  With this invitation  he
promptly complied, and proceeded with all speed
to the house of the dying man.  As they were
passing on, they observed a company of horsemen
advancing in the direction of the village, of the design of whose visit Mr. Muirhead had no doubt.
Having reached the house where his assistance
was required, he spent the evening with the afflicted person, knowing that it was in vain to return to the meeting, as it must have been dispersed
by the soldiers.
During the absence of Mr. Muirhead, the friends
met according to appointment, and as they were
waiting the arrival of the minister to conduct their
devotions, a party of horsemen rode up to the
door.  The troopers dismounted and burst into
the apartment, expecting to seize Mr. Muirhead
without much trouble in the midst of the company.
The little conventicle was thrown into confusion
and dismay, expecting to be severely handled by
the rude and unmannerly dragoons.  They de.
manded Mr. Muirhead as their prisoner in the
king's name, but every one was ready to affirm




268            TRADITIONS OF
that he was not present.  This assertion, however,
was not so easily to be credited by the soldiers,
who, on seeing a venerable-looking old man in the
assembly, instantly concluded that he was the individual sought for, and him  they seized and
bound on the spot; having thus, as they opined,
secured their prey, they dispersed the meeting, and
marched away with their captive. They had not
gone far, however, when, having discovered their
mistake, they dismissed the poor man with what
they considered suitable admonitions.
In the meantime Mrs. Muirhead was in great
distress about her husband. He had not appeared
at the meeting at the time appointed; he was not
to be found in his hiding-place; no person had
seen him, and she concluded that he had fallen into the hands of the enemy. She spent a perplexed and wakeful night, bewailing the fate of her
honoured husband, and her own helpless condition,
but, to her delight and surprise, her affectionate
husband having returned from the cottage, presented himself in the apartment.  Her heart
swelled with gratitude to the Preserver of their
lives. Mr. Muirhead explained the reason of his
absence; and she informed him of the visit and
behaviour of the dragoons, and at the same time
expressed her suspicions of treachery on the part
of an individual belonging to the meeting. Mr.
Muirhead was unwilling to admit the idea, that
any one of their professed friends could be so base
as to act in such a manner.  " I am nevertheless
of the opinion," said she, " that there is a traitor
among us, who, for the sake of worldly advantage,
has engaged to work our ruin; and that traitor I
believe to be John Guthrie.' I observed him yes.
terday smiling to the leader of the troopers, and




THE COVENANTERS.              269
talking to him in a very familiar way; the which,
if he had been a true-hearted friend, I do not think
he would have lone."
In a short time this same individual called on
Mr. Muirhead, and congratulated  him  on his
happy escape from  the dragoons, and requested
him to call another meeting of the friends that
night, as it was not likely that they would be disturbed by a visit from the soldiers so soon after
the occurrence of the preceding evening. Mr.
Muirhead, who was unwilling to entertain suspicions of John Guthrie, said that he was engaged
to spend the evening with Thomas M'Murtrie, the
sick man, and that therefore he would defer the
meeting till another time.
Accordingly, Mr. Muirhead met in the evening
with a few friends in M'Murtrie's house, where he
engaged in religious exercises by the bed of the
dying Christian.  The devotions of the party,
however, were unexpectedly interrupted by the
sudden intrusion of John Guthrie, attended by
Captain  Grierson, and a company of soldiers.
Mr. Muirhead was at the moment of their entrance
on his knees at prayer, and Grierson without ceremony made him  his prisoner on the spot  The
scene was truly affecting; the venerable saint was
forcibly raised from his kneeling posture, the house
was filled with weeping and consternation, and the
afflicted man, now very near the end of his pilgrimage, gave signs in the midst of the tumult that
all within his breast was peace.
Grierson committed the prisoner to the care of
two of his troopers, with special charges to prevent his escape.  It was the intention of the
commander, it is said, to carry his captive to
Dumfries, to which place he was bound on mat
23*




270             TRADITIONS OF
ters doubtless of importance. On their way they
had occasion to pass through a wood, where the
following incident occurred. It was clear moonlight, and the soldiers were able to march with
nearly as much precision as in the open day. As
they were threading their way among the trees, a
number of persons were seen running to and fro, in
apparent confusion and flight.  Grierson instantly
concluded that they were a company of covenanters, whom the soldiers passing through the wood
had incidentally disturbed in their concealment.
The command was given to pursue, and fire on
the fugitives.  The two men who guarded Mr.
Muirhead hastily tied him to a tree, and speedily
followed their comrades in the pursuit. The loud
report of fire-arms was heard at frequent intervals
in the gloomy retreats of the forest, and Mr. Muirhead, reflecting for a moment on the possibility of
extricating himself, found that he was but loosely
attached to the tree, and he easily succeeded in untying the cords.  Having disengaged himself from
his bonds, he darted away among the thickets, in
the direction of his home. As he was wending
his way through the underwood he was observed
by one of the soldiers, who, taking his aim in the
glimmering moonlight, fired and wounded him on
the knee, which instantly stayed his flight.  He
was seized the second time; and when Grierson
had routed the party in the wood, he commanded
two of his strongest men to carry him on their
shoulders to the place where the horses were stationed.  In passing through the wood, Grierson
observed some persons skulking among the trees;
and, fearing lest a shot should reach him from
among the bushes, he ordered his men to march
at full speed.  The two dragoons who were




THE COVENANTERS.             271
carrying the prisoner, being impeded with their
burden, were unable to proceed with the requisite
celerity, and Grierson became impatient. It happened, that in passing through the wood they had
to cross a stream, and when they arrived at the
ford, it occurred to the leader of the party that the
most expeditious way of disposing of their incumbrance would be to throw the worthy man into the
water.  Accordingly when the two men were in
the midst of the torrent, and scarcely able to keep
their footing under the weight of their burden, he
commanded them to cast the rebel into the pool,
and leave him to his fate. To this command the
soldiers, hardened as they were, hesitated to yield
obedience; the which, when Grierson observed,
he came behind, and, with one forcible and remorseless push, plunged him into the deepest part
of the river, where he sank to the bottom, and was
no more heard of. In this way was a godly and
inoffensive man treated by a base and truculent
persecutor, in whose breast a feeling of compassion had no place.  Mr. Muirhead owed his death
to the cowardice, as well as to the cruelty of his
enemies.  He died a martyr, and has a name
among the worthies " who loved not their lives unto the death," and his memorial deserves to be
rescued from oblivion, and to be kept in perpetual
remembrance.
Carmacoup, the scene of the following traditionary notice, is situated in the beautiful vale of
Douglasdale, a few miles to the westward of the
ancient town of Douglas. Soon after the Saxons
and Flemings found their way into the upper
ward of Lanarkshire, a stronghold was reared on
the site on which the mansion house of Carma.
coup now stands. This place received its name,




272              TRADITIONS OF
in all probability, from Cormac, an ancient pro.
prietor of the lands, and was called Cormac's
Hope, and in latter times pronounced Carmacoup.
A few fiagments of the original stronghold remain,
and are attached'to the present modern building.
Some of the aged people in the locality still speak
of the ruins of the massive walls and vaults of th
olden structure, which they had seen in their
younger days.  A  few  years ago an earthen
mound, of considerable magnitude, which was encircled at its base by a low stone-wall, stood on
the east side of the dwelling. This remnant of
antiquity furnished ample evidence that, in the
earlier Saxon times, the lairds of Carmacoup possessed baronial power in its full extent. On this
moat the Baron sat in judgment, and gave sentence either according to the nature of the case,
or his own caprice.  The feudal stronghold at
Carmacoup, however, is now  superseded by a
Duilding more in accordance with the peaceful
times in which we live. Early mention is made
of the place; and, in Home's History of the House
of Douglas, it is recorded that " the lands of Car.
mackhope, with Glaspen, Hartwood, Lennox, and
Leholm," were in 1259 " disposed by William, the
fifth Earl of Douglas, to Hugh Douglas, his son
and heir, on his marriage to Marjory Abernethy,
sister to Hugh Lord Abernethy."  In after times,
however, the lands of Carmacoup ceased to belong
to the House of Douglas, having been bestowed
on some faithful and intrepid follower of the chief
of Douglasdale. The Douglases were princely in
their acknowledgment of valuable services; and
of this the munificent gift of Hazleside, with other
lands to the trusty aud heroic Dickson, is a proof.
The lands of Carmacoup, after having passed, in




THE COVENANTERS.              273
the lapse of a few ages, from one family to another, are now inherited in entail by the present
proprietor.
In the heavy times of persecution, a despotic
act was passed by the Privy Council, by which
every heritor and landholder was made responsible for those who lived on their grounds, and
were subjected to heavy fines and imprisonment,
if they failed to lodge due information against all
who entertained covenanting principles. The laird
of Carmacoup, after the passing of this act, became solicitous about his own safety, on account
of the number of cottars who resided on his lands,
and whose religious principles he had good reason
to believe were more in accordance with those of
the covenanters, than with the mind of those who
issued this intolerant and unrighteous edict.  Not
a few of the cottars had imbibed the opinions of
the persecuted party; for the hills of Carmacoup,
and the retreats of its woods and streams, were
frequented by the wanderers, and the ravines and
caves around Cairntable afforded shelter to many
a helpless covenanter in the dark and troubled day.
In this way the cottars had frequent opportunities of intercourse with the sufferers, and this had
led them to examine and to adopt their principles.
At this time there was a goodly number of cottages on the lands of Carmacoup, and the greater
part of them was not far from the base of Cairntable, a dark height, which rears its frowning head
in the midst of the desert moorlands. In ancient
times the house of Douglas had a stronghold in the
vicinity of this mountain, and at that period the
population in this wild and bleak district was surprisingly great.  The hamlets and clusters of cottages in this locality, had their origin from the




274             TRADITIONS OF
castle or stronghold, on the skirts of the mountain
to which the Douglases occasionally resorted in
time of danger, and there set their enemies at defiance.  " Little knows King Henry the skirts of
Cairntable," said the Earl of Angus, "I can keep
myself there from all his English host."
The tale of the poor cottars is touching.  All
of them, with a few exceptions, had received notice to quit their habitations, and remove from the
lands at the first term.  Tradition says that
" thirty chimneys ceased to smoke on Whitsunday
at noon, on the fair lands of Carmacoup."  At a
meeting which had been held a few days prior to
their removal, the cottagers agreed to convene on
the morning of the day of their departure, at a
place called the Bottoms, near the foot of Cairntable, where they purposed to engage in devotional
exercises before they separated to seek other residences.  The eventful morning came; it was
clear and beautiful, the sun rose in a cloudless
sky.  The lark was caroling his song high in the
air; the lambs were gamboling on the grassy
knolls; and the curlew, with his loudest scream,
was sweeping over their heads in rapid gyrations,
as they moved slowly and mournfully to the place
of meeting.  It was a solemn assembly; sorrow
was depicted on every countenance, a sleepless
night was passed by all, the eyes of some were
red with weeping, and the warm  tears bedewed
many a fair cheek.  The father contemplated
with a yearning heart his helpless family, and
the mother stood sobbing with her smiling babe
cradled on her arm.
When all were convened, they formed themselves into a circle on the bent, and a venerable
father being placed, by universal consent, in the




THE COVENANTERS.             275
middle of the ring began the devotional exercises
by singing a Psalm.  He then read a portion of
Scripture adapted to their circumstances, and,
kneeling down on the brown heath, he poured forth
a prayer full of holy fervour and childlike confidence in God, and committed the helpless and destitute company of worshippers to the particular
care of that Saviour-for attachment to whose
cause they were now called to suffer hardships,
and to submit to banishment from their native
place. It was interesting to see a company of
honest peasants, who had not now a place in the
world which they could call their home, invoking
Him  who, when on earth, had not where to lay
his head.  The spirits of the party were refreshed
by means of this heavenly communion, and by
means of the Christian converse they had together; and having girded up the loins of their
minds, they were prepared to follow the leadings
of Providence, and to submit in all things to the
disposal of their heavenly Father. And sweet
was the inward peace they enjoyed, when, for
conscience sake, they were called to forsake their
earthly all.  When they arose to separate, it is
said that the aged saint stood up in the midst of
the company, and, with a loud and firm voice,
pronounced the following prayer: " May He who
was with the patriarchs in their wanderings, even
the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, go
with us. Amen."
The attachment which the inhabitants of the
hilly districts, and of the deserts, cherish for the
homes of their fathers, is remarkable; and we may
easily conceive with what reluctance this little
band of witnesses would leave their native moorlands.  They  would, no doubt, cast " many a




276            TRADITIONS, ETC.
longing, lingering look behind" to the lowly cot.
tages in which they had been reared, to the rugged mountains and the dark heath which they had
traversed from their infancy, and to the kindly
neighbours with whom they had lived in friendly
intercourse, and whose faces, in all likelihood,
they would never more see on earth.
Tradition has retained no farther notice of
these simple hearted occupants of the wilderness.
Not even a single name has been transmitted to
posterity, and the history of their after-wanderings
cannot now be ascertained; but it is not at all im.
probable that the blood of some of them stained
the purple heath, or streamed on the scaffold.
Such, then, is the story of the flitting of the covenanters, the cottars of Carmacoup.




GLOSSARY
OF THE
CELTIC NAMES OF PLACES, MOUNTAINS,
AND RIVERS,
THAT OCCUR IN THE "TRADITIONS."
Aird, high.
At. water.
Alven, or Alwenfoot, Alwen, the bright stream. (See Elven,)
Avon, a river.
Auchengrouch or grouth, the field of curds.
Auchentagart, the field of the priest.
Auchlochan, the field of the little lake.
Auchengree, or grian, the sunny field.
Auchencloich, the field of the stone,, or stones.
Ayr, the clear or the shallow stream.
Ballachin, the head of the pass.
Ballagan, Bal, a hamlet, and lagan. a hollow.
Balmaclellan, M'Lellan's town.
Bar, a bush, a summit, a rapid stream.
Bellopath, Bel, outrage, and aw, water, the pass of the raging
stream.
Beith, a birch tree.
Blairfoot, the foot of the plain.
Benbeach, Ben, a hill, and beach, a bee, the bee-hill.
Blagannach, probably Bleagannach, the milking-field
Biggar, probably beg, little, and aire, clear stream, the little clear
stream.
Cairn, a heap of stones.
24                277




278                    GLOSSARY.
Carco, the winding hollow.
Caron, the winding stream.
Carsfairn, carse, swampy ground, and fearn, alder bushes.
Carbusnethan, cambus, the curve or bend of a river; and
Netlhan, an ancient saint. " The old church was situated
near a fine bending of the Clyde."
Crawick, the habitation or resort of crows. Saxon.
Craigdarrach, the rock of the oak tree.
Cruffel, or Crofell, a hill frequented by crows. Saxon.
Cumnock, cum, a hollow, and cnock, a hill.
Closeburn, cill Osburn, the cell of Osburn.
Clyde, sheltered.
Cogshead, cog, a cuckoo, the head of the cuckoo stream.
Carmacoup, Cormac's hope or vale.
Craigturach, the towering rock.
Dair or Dar, an oak.
Dalblair, Dal, a valley, and blair, a plain or battle-field.
Dalveen. the hilly dale.
Daljig, the plain of the ditch.
Dalgarnock, the field abounding in underwood.
Dalzien, the plain of the daisy, or ion, John's field.
Dalhanna, the good field.
Dalmellington, dal, a field, and milan, a mill, with the Saxon
termination, ton,-the town of the valley of the mill,according to others, " Dame Helen's town."
Doon the dark stream.
Douglas, the dark blue water.
Durisdeer. the door of the forest.
Daleccles, the field of the church.
Dairy, the king's field or the red plain.
Dalwick, the habitation in the plain. Saxon.
Dumfries, dln, a mound, and freas, brushwood; or dun, a fortress, the castle among the shrubs.
Drummelier, drum, a ridge, and meiliaur, a dwelling, the
dwelling on or at the ridge.
Eliock, either ailoc, the little rock, ar alec, beautiful, pleasant;
the latter is the popular pronunciation.
Enterkin, intradh, entrance, and ken, the head; the head of the
pass.
Earnsallach burn, earon, the bright or foaming stream, and
sallach, a willow.
Elven, or Elwenfoot, the clear stream.
Etterick, ed, water, and teric, muddy.
Feuchaw, either the wooded water, or the cold stream.
Finglan,fionn, white, and gleann, a glen.




GLOSSARY.                      279
Glenglas, the grey valley.
Glendyne, doine, deep, the deep valley, remarkably descriptive.
Glencairn, the valley of the heap of stones.
Glenim, the butter glen.
Glenshillach, the willow glen.
Glengonar, geail, sand, and or, gold, the glen of the gold sand.
~40, 000 of gold were collected, about three centuries
ago, by Bulmer the German, in Glengonar, and the
neighbouring streams, near Leadhills.
Greenock-mains, probably grialach, a sunny spot, or grean,
gravel, and cnock, a hill.
Hartfell, a hill frequented by harts. Saxon.
Hope, a little vale without a thoroughfare. Norman French
Irvine, a green margin.
Ken, the head, also white, clear,
Kello, the wooded stream.
Knockenhair, the watch-hill.
Kyle, a wood, a forest.
Kirkmahoe, the kirk, on the plain near the river (Nith.)
Lag,    )
Lagan,      a hollow.
Logan, 
Lagminnean, the hollow of the kids.
Lanerk, a green, a bare place in a wood, a little yard.
Locherben, locher, a place of pools, and ben, a hill.
Lurgfoot, lrng, the leg or shank.
Lugar, the bursting stream.
Lochbruin, the loch of the boar, or rushes.
Lesmahago, lis, an inclosure or habitation, and Machude, a
saint who settled here in the sixth century.
Mauchline. mag-h, a field, and lin, a pool of water, the plain by
the water, the Ayr.
Meaul, a hill.
Mennock, mein, ore, a vein of metal, and cnock, a hill. The
ancient Celtic people, it would appear, were acquainted
with the metallic treasures imbedded in these mountains,
as well as the moderns. Tradition says, that the Romans smelted lead on the Clyde.
Nith or Neth, the whirling or circling stream.
Nethan, diminutive of Neth, the little circling stream.
Pen, a head, an end, a height.
Penbreck, the speckled height.
Penycuick, pen-y-cog, the cuckoo height, a summit.




280                  GLOSSARY.
Penpont, pent or pant, in British, signifies a valley, the head
of the valley.
Peebles, shielings, huts.
Sanquhar, sean, old, and caer, a fort.
Sorn, a corner.
Shaw, copsewood. Saxon.
Spank, or spango, the sparkling stream.
Stobo, the stub-howe, or hollow.
Scar, the dividing stream, from sgar, to divide. This stream
was, in all likelihood, the march between the ancient
Selgovae, in the upper part of Nithsdale, and the Novantes of Galloway.
Tinto, the hill of fire.
Tweed, the dividing river, the border stream,
Wardlaw, the watch-hill. Saxon.
Wanlockhead, wen, white, and loc, a hollow, the head of the
gray hollow.
Yochan or euchan, the fair stream.
The preceding names are chiefly from the sister
dialects of the British and Scoto-Irish speech.
Some of these names, perhaps, may not now appear so significant as when first employed eighteen
or twenty centuries ago, because the face of the
country has, since that period, undergone a variety of changes. It may also be remarked, that,
in some instances, a whole district is now called
by a name which in remote times was first given
to an individual spot within a wide locality; and
therefore, in such cases, the propriety of the general appellation may not be so plainly discernible. In every instance, however, the name was
strikingly appropriate and descriptive, when originally imposed by the Celtic people.
The ancient Celtic, though not now deemed
worthy  of general attention by the learned, is
nevertheless  a language  of great interest.  Its




GLOSSARY.                281
affinity to the Latin is remarkable.  It is clearly
of an oriental origin,-a circumstance which seems
to be, in a great measure, overlooked by biblical
scholars, when probably a knowledge of the speech
of the Celts, which in a forgotten age was current
throughout the ample limits of Europe, might cast
no small degree of light on their researches.
THE END,