Part 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AN ACROSTIC ON HIS NAME.

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

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

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

FINIS.

NARRATIVE

OF THE BATTLES

OF

DRUMCLOG,

AND

BOTHWELL BRIDGE.

GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.

THE

BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.

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

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

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